The Queen's Secret (The Queen's Secret #2) - Melissa de la Cruz Page 0,87
hours. Even the promise of Rhema to guard us both with her life wasn’t enough.
For those important moments in my apartments, Hansen and I were on the same side. He was the one who thrust the bow into my hands. He was the one who lit the arrow in the fire. But he can’t really change. None of us can. We are who we are.
Pieces of the puzzle are starting to click into place. Father Juniper was killed, we think, because a crow entered the high chapel window and he witnessed it transforming into an Aphrasian monk. Varya told me that the method of killing was probably an obsidian poison, force-fed to a victim, which is why we saw the black chalkiness around my poor priest’s mouth.
Martyn, the Chief Physician, had worked this out—in consultation with Varya and Jander. He’d also detected traces of a seed, Varya told me, and now we realize that was linseed. He must have shared this information with Jander, but Daffran didn’t know that. So Martyn was killed to keep him quiet. No one could be permitted to suspect Daffran of acting as a portal for the Aphrasians.
Lady Cecilia, we think, was poisoned in order to point the finger of blame at me, and encourage a Montrician rebellion against me, perhaps even an assassination attempt. And poor Lady Marguerite—when she ran down to the yard to help Daffran back to his chamber, she was possessed by Duchess Girt, who’d been smuggled into the castle as one of the crows, of course. The duchess, now Lady Marguerite, was given the enchanted draft of tea for me to drink. The real Lady Marguerite was no Aphrasian sympathizer, I know. She was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time, used by Duchess Girt and Daffran—in his possessed form, at least—to further the Aphrasian cause.
Ridding our world of the Dellafiores.
At midnight the chants begin, and the Guild members prepare to light the fire. Jander is among them: He’s been embraced, it seems, since he has proven himself so accomplished. He was the one who forced the demon to reveal himself in the castle; he was the one who solved the puzzle, and destroyed dozens upon dozens of Aphrasian killers. All by using his mind rather than wielding a sword.
Now his slight form moves with the others, pacing around the pyre. He’s the one handed the torch to light the fire. My aunts would be proud, I think, if they were here. They taught him well.
I stand outside the circle, but close enough to feel the heat of the rising flames on my cold face. Rhema stands to my left, a step behind me. To my right is Cal. We’ve said very little to each other tonight, but that’s all right. We’re all nervous, I suppose, about the fire of Deia working this time, of ridding Avantine of centuries of evil and conflict.
Just knowing Cal is there gives me a feeling of peace. I could reach out for his hand if I wanted to. I really want to. Things will have to change now in the castle, in the joint kingdoms, in our lives. I can’t go on living half a life, separated from Cal. I can’t go on being some kind of captive.
The flames lick the sky, darting and shooting into the darkness. It’s hot now, stinging my eyes, but I don’t back away, and neither does the Guild. They move in measured paces in their circle of incantation. Jander, such a slight figure, a waif, walks with them. The fire lights his pale face so it looks as bright as the moon. He’s the real captive, of course—held captive for centuries by the king’s curse.
When the fire leaps high, burning bright and hot, Jander lets out an oh! as though he’d felt some pain or a sharp discomfort. He stumbles, clutching his stomach, and instinctively I step forward to help him. But there’s a hand on my left arm—Rhema’s—and a hand on my right.
Cal’s.
“Leave him,” Cal says in a low voice, his breath warm against my neck. “It’s time.”
Of course. The body burns in the fire of Deia, and the curse on Jander is lifted. He straightens and glances toward us with the most serene smile I’ve ever seen. Cal is right: It’s time. Before our eyes, Jander’s form melts away into the darkness. The circle of Guild members keeps moving, keeps chanting, but Jander is gone.
The curse is broken. Tears prick my eyes, and it’s