The Reluctant Queen (The Queens of Renthia #2)(90)

She stood still for a moment, trying to put herself in Erian's shoes. Erian must have realized something was wrong and gotten her brother to the wardrobe, but maybe there hadn't been time for her to hide too. Maybe the spirits were too close. Maybe she wanted to distract them from Llor. She must have run-she could have tried the door, but if the spirits had come in through there . . . the only other way out was the balcony.



       
         
       
        

Erian had never liked climbing, but if it was the only way, she'd do it. My brave girl. Naelin ran onto the balcony. "Erian? Erian!" Leaning over the railing, she looked down.

Clinging to the vines about fifteen feet below the edge was Erian.

Her eyes were squeezed shut, and she was shaking. Naelin saw blood on her arm, a smear of brilliant red against her white dress. "Hold on, Erian! We're coming! Ven! Ven, she's out there!"

Erian screamed.

The vines were retracting from the palace, as if being withdrawn.

"Don't let go!" Naelin called.

"Mama!"

The sound of her cry pierced Naelin. Before she could even call for him, Ven was at the balcony and vaulting over the side. He stabbed his knife into the wood of the tree, using it as a handhold. "I'm coming, Erian," he told her. "Hang on."

Naelin felt a solid weight thump into her thigh. Llor gripped her waist and buried his face in her stomach. "Mama!" She cradled his head but didn't move her eyes off the scene below.

She's too far down, Naelin thought. The vines were shrinking back into the palace. Gripping the balcony, she concentrated. She reached into the tree and touched the wood spirits who were unraveling the vines and disentangling the mess. Stop, she told them. Grow.

She guided them toward the vines that held her daughter from plummeting.

They resisted.

The queen had given them another command-she could feel it within them, an echo that reverberated: Restore. They were fixing the palace. They had to fix it. The queen was making them, and her strength was like iron around their brains.

Naelin chipped at that iron. She pushed, she shoved, she sawed. Grow. Now. Grow. And she felt them shatter inside as her command penetrated. They forced the wood out, jutting a new balcony beneath Erian's feet. As the vines vanished into the bark, she collapsed onto the new balcony.

Ven climbed down, sticking knives into the wood, until he reached her. "Grab onto me," he said gently to Erian.

Sobbing, she clung to him, and he began the climb back up, using his knives again. The process was slow, and Naelin squeezed Llor as she watched them climb up. When they were close enough, she reached over, helping pull Erian onto the balcony. She bundled Erian into her arms and held her. Erian wrapped her arms around Naelin's neck, tight.

Ven jumped onto the balcony beside them. "Is everyone all right?"

Naelin peeled away from her children to look at them. "There's blood. Who's bleeding? What hurts?" Erian and Llor dove toward her, hugging her tight again. She rocked backward but steadied herself.

Eventually, she got them calmed down, bandaged up, and tucked into bed, where they clung to each other as if they were each the other's teddy bear. She sat across the room from them and watched them as they whispered to each other and then fell asleep. Dropping her head in her hands, Naelin wished she could sleep. 

She felt Ven's hand on her shoulder. "You did well," he said.

"She could have died. Both of them. I could have lost them."

"You saved them. You saved a lot of people." He crouched beside her and took her hand. She felt the warmth of his hand, the strength of his fingers, comforting her. "I knew you could. Now do you understand why you're needed?"

"No. I don't understand at all. Why did that happen? We're in the palace!" She lowered her voice. "We should be safe here, with the queen."

Ven was silent.

He still held her hand.

As the silence stretched, Naelin looked up at him. His eyes were fixed out the window but not as if he were looking at anything, as if he were thinking, and his mouth was twisted into a grimace. "What is it?"

"The queen has been poisoned. She's been given the False Death. All of the champions were in the chamber when she experienced her latest blackout-I believe the spirits were watching as well, waiting for their opportunity. Her commands have no effect while she is dead."

Naelin stared at him. She had a dozen questions: How was it possible? Who would do such a thing? Why? She settled on the most important one. "If it's a poison, is there an antidote?"

"Maybe. We don't know yet."