Where had she come from, this warrior queen of Flumeer? Her father had been king before her, but he had not shown any inclination towards war—had overseen years of peace for Flumeer, in fact. Little was known of her mother, only that she had succumbed to a wasting fever when Amina was yet a child at the breast.
Somehow, the pair had born a conqueror.
Light bathed Erika’s face as the queen reached out with the gauntlet and pressed a finger to Erika’s chest.
“Why do you still fight, little Archivist?” Amina whispered. “You know you cannot resist. Eventually, you will give me what I want, you must know this. So why suffer? Why put yourself through this agony? In the end, the result will be the same.”
Fire lit in Erika’s belly at the queen’s words, at her arrogance, to think that Erika could not stand against her, that she would surrender so meekly. Staring into the queen’s eyes, she found a spark of courage and bared her teeth.
“Because I am a princess of Calafe,” she snarled, “because I will never surrender to the murderer of my people.”
“Calafe?” The queen seemed surprised by that as she rose. “Since when? Did your people not chase you from your lands, steal the rightful crown from your head? Did you not come to me yourself and kneel as a citizen of Flumeer, swear yourself to my cause as Archivist?”
“That was before I knew the truth,” Erika snarled. “Before your assassin revealed himself, before he told me about my father.”
“Ah…” the queen sighed. “So Yasin found you in the end. I take it he is dead? A shame, men of his quality are difficult to find. Though he always did have a loose tongue.”
“He killed my father on your orders!” Erika screamed, her rage coming alight at the queen’s casual tone.
“A means to an end, my dear,” the queen dismissed Erika’s anger with a flick of her hand. Turning away, she clasped her arms behind her back. “While other leaders have fought and squabbled amongst themselves, I alone knew of the danger that was to come.” She spun suddenly, golden eyes seemingly aglow in the dim light beneath the ship. “Tell me, Archivist, what did you discover in those mountains? What did you learn of their kind, of the Anahera?”
Erika’s retort caught in her throat at the queen’s words. “How…how do you know that name?” she whispered.
That was a name known only to the Anahera themselves. Surely Cara had not told her? No…looking into the queen’s eyes, at the anger simmering those golden irises, Erika sensed there was more to this woman than she had realised.
“They were the ones who betrayed us, Archivist,” the queen murmured, crouching before Erika. “The Gods we have worshiped, who my father so loved—it was they who cast down humanity, who schemed to destroy our ancient ancestors,” she paused, eying Erika a long moment, before nodding. “Yes, I can see it in your eyes, you found them, discovered the truth.”
“How can you know?” Erika whispered, barely able to manage the words. The queen’s words…they spoke a truth Erika had only learned from the Old One when she had invaded the city of the Anahera. How could Amina possibly…
“I have always known,” the queen murmured, looking away. “My father…discovered the truth. He knew they would come one day, that humanity’s growing power would threaten them, and they would seek to destroy us again. He raised me to prepare for that threat, for the coming of the false Gods.” She smiled bitterly. “When I heard your Goddess had revealed herself above the waters of the Illmoor, I knew that day was upon us. Alas, if you live, it means Yasin and his assassins failed. Time is short, Archivist. I will need every power at my disposal to defeat them. Come.”
The last word was an order and Erika flinched, her beleaguered mind unable to process the command. How did the queen know all this? Cara would not have told her such secrets, no matter the pain Amina gifted with the gauntlet. Only the Anahera and the Old One had known the truth.
“Come,” the queen said again, and this time Erika managed to stagger to her feet.
The queen went first up the stairs. When she disappeared into the light above, Erika might have slunk back to her shelter, might have tried to hide again in her corner, but then the queen would only send her soldiers to drag Erika out. And besides, she had a yearning to see the world again, to discover what had become of Gemaho and its people, now Amina had conquered them.
Emerging onto the deck, Erika squinted against the brilliance of the day. The sun shone high overhead, announcing the noon meal—not that Erika would be offered anything. Her head swam as she looked around, finding massive cliffs stretching above the river on which they sailed.
Erika recognised their surroundings immediately—there was only one place like it in all the kingdoms of humanity. They were sailing down the Illmoor through the pass that connected Gemaho and Flumeer.
“Come and look upon the fate of those who defy me, Archivist,” the queen called to her from the bow.
Erika swallowed at the power in the woman’s voice. Her back was turned and the crew on the ship did not seem to be paying Erika much attention. She might have fled to the railings and hurled herself into the racing waters. But Erika was weak in mind and body, and instead she found herself staggering across to where the queen waited, her spirit crushed, defeated.
Amina gestured to the shore as Erika joined her. A dozen ships sailed around them, each flying the scarlet sails of
