The Impostor Queen - Sarah Fine Page 0,36

I’ll find a way to wield the magic inside me, and then I’ll return to the temple victorious. Kauko said I would be the most powerful Valtia who ever lived. He said I was the one.

“Never doubt,” I murmur.

Stars, who am I kidding? I am made of doubt right now.

I lean against the rough stone wall and have to bite back an agonized cry as my flayed back touches the unforgiving surface. Mim did a good job with my bandages, and she must have smeared a numbing cream on them, because the pain has been manageable. But she’ll need to dress them again tonight. I’m not sure I want to know what my skin looks like. It used to be smooth, and now . . . now it is probably forever scarred. Perhaps when I find my magic, I’ll be able to heal myself. It’s a comforting thought.

The sky gets lighter, and my stomach burbles, first happily, and then hungrily. That bread and cheese was the only thing I’d eaten since before the ruined harvest ceremony. I pray for the sun to rise a little faster, because it will signal Mim’s arrival with breakfast. She never fails me. I bet she’ll bring something special, just to make me feel better.

Finally, the sun tears itself loose from the horizon and begins its arcing ascent. Orange and pink fingers of light stretch across the sky, and the city wakes. The plodding of horses’ hooves and shouts of peddlers hawking their wares begin to fill the air, first only a few, and then dozens. Bells clang as the fishermen enter the harbor. The blacksmith’s strikes on his forge are shrill stabs of sound. The breeze brings me the scent of meat pies and baking bread and garlicky, spicy sausages. I think I could eat one as big as my own arm.

I watch the space between two stout buildings at the northern end of the square, the road leading north to the gates of the temple grounds. The sun has risen above the city council’s meeting hall now, and my heart beats faster. She said she’d be with me before I started to miss her, so she needs to come soon.

And then there she is. Her hooded figure strides down the road, a covered basket in her hands. I push myself to my feet but remain against the wall. I don’t want to be seen. Mim emerges from between the two buildings, and I stare greedily at her basket, wondering what she’s packed. I also wonder what her family will think of me when we arrive. Will they understand what’s happening and sympathize? Surely she wouldn’t take me to them if she thought they’d alert the elders.

Instead of coming toward me, Mim turns left and walks across the square. She must not have seen me—even though I’m waiting right where she told me to. Pulling my hood low to make sure it covers my face, I step onto the road and cross the square, weaving my way around peddlers’ carts and maids and houseboys out to make morning purchases for their households. Mim disappears into the bakery, and I chuckle. If there was nothing special in the temple kitchens, then she’s probably getting something for me there. I’m almost skipping as I near the bakery. The scent of lard and yeast is making me dizzy.

She comes out of the bakery, her basket now laden with buns, her hood thrown back.

Which is when I realize: she’s not Mim. That’s Irina, one of the scullery maids who mops the corridors and minds the fireplaces. I turn away quickly as she strides down the main road to the east, probably going home to her family for a few days off.

My hand covers my stomach as that hollow feeling inside me grows. It’s midmorning now. She said she’d come for me at sunrise. Where is she?

I return to my little spot next to the blacksmith’s shop. To keep myself from squinting endlessly down the road to the temple, I watch the people in the square. They’re wearing their light fall cloaks, which is the heaviest garb they ever have to don within the city walls, because the Valtia keeps us warm even in the depths of winter. Their cheeks are full and their limbs are strong, because the Valtia ensures the gardens and farmland are protected from too much heat in the summer. They wear adornments, bangles and tunics of all colors, because the Kupari are wealthy and

readonlinefreenovel.com Copyright 2016 - 2024