The Queen of All that Dies
Page 21

King Lazuli sticks his hands in his pockets and leans in conspiratorially. “You know the thing about strategy? It takes knowing when to act and when to be patient.”
I take a good look at him. King Lazuli’s been waging this war for almost thirty years, yet he looks to be little older than thirty himself. I’ve seen footage of him shot, blown-up, and stabbed, yet he hasn’t died. He’s unnatural in more ways than one.
“If you try to force me into this plan of yours, I will find out your secrets,” I say, “and once I do, I will kill you.” I stare at him long enough for him to see the vehemence behind my words. And then I turn and walk away from the king and the sick tapestry that hangs along the walls of the room.
I’m almost to the door when he speaks. “I plan on making you love me before that happens.”
Chapter 8
Serenity
Three years ago I saw combat for the first time.
I was allowed to fight despite being underage. Many of us were. The war had raged on long enough that the military would take almost all willing and able-bodied soldiers—even underage ones, so long as they were over the age of fourteen and their guardian agreed to it. My father had consented—albeit, reluctantly—and so had Will’s.
Will and I, members of the same platoon, had been stationed in New York, near where New York City once stood. The two of us hunkered down outside the skeletons of former buildings, our breaths clouding in the chilly night air. Our battalion had reappropriated the ruins and turned them into makeshift barracks.
“We’re missing all the action,” Will complained, picking up a pebble and chucking it at an abandoned car across the street.
Because we were younger. Our military might recruit minors, but they tended to shelter them from action if they could.
Several minutes later one of the other members of our company whistled from a block away. “The king’s men are dropping out of the sky!”
I glanced above me and sure enough, the dim outline of parachutes obscured the patches of the sky. There looked to be dozens of them.
“Oh shit,” Will said.
My heart slammed inside my ribcage. We were being ambushed. I grabbed my mother’s necklace and kissed it for good luck. I’d killed before, but never under such treacherous circumstances.
Shots pinged in the distance—likely other soldiers from our company trying to shoot the king’s men out of the air. From what I could tell, it had no effect.
Will raised his weapon.
“Don’t shoot,” I said, staring up at the sky.
“Why not?” He lined up his gun’s sights.
“We don’t have enough bullets to waste.” Not when our targets were too far away to aim with accuracy.
“So you think we should wait?” He sounded incredulous.
“Mmhm.” My hands trembled.
Will shook his head but lowered his gun. “This better be a good idea, ’cause I feel like we’re missing a perfect opportunity.”
“Just wait for them to get within range.”
He huffed, his way of agreeing without conceding his point.
It took an agonizing five minutes for the enemy to get close enough to shoot. When a man managed to land on our block, Will and I jogged over to him as the soldier extricated himself from his harness.
“I got this one,” Will said, aiming his weapon.
I nodded next to him, my gun also trained on the enemy soldier.
Will hesitated, readjusted his grip, then hesitated some more.
“What are you waiting for?” I whispered.
“Nothing.”
I cast a look over at Will. His hands fidgeted, his eyes were wild.
He’d never killed a man. I’d assumed he had. We lived in the kind of world where violence was inevitable.
The soldier was now glancing up at us as he frantically fiddled with the straps of his parachute. In several more seconds we’d lose the advantage we now had.
Next to me Will shifted his weight, his hands adjusting and readjusting their grip on his weapon. He wasn’t going to finish the enemy in time.
Steadying my breath, I aimed my weapon and fired.
The bullet took the soldier right between the eyes—a quick, painless death. That was as compassionate as I was going to get out here, given the circumstances.
For ten long seconds neither of us moved.
Will finally lowered his gun. “I froze up.” I could hear the embarrassment in his voice.
“Nothing to be ashamed of.”
I pushed down my nausea. By now I’d learned that it wasn’t physical. It was more of a soul-sickness. Another piece of my humanity chipped away.
“You were able to kill him,” Will said.
You, a girl. That’s what he meant. Like owning a vagina made me inferior in some fundamental way.
I gave Will a long look, then shook my head and began walking towards the body. I expected most of the teen boys in my platoon to be sexist, but not Will.
“I’m sorry,” he said to my back.
I waved him off. “You’ll get another chance to kill tonight. I’m sure it’ll help your wounded ego recover.”
Will did in fact kill for the first time that evening. And when he saw the woman’s lifeless eyes, he vomited all over my shoes. The machismo act fell away after that. It didn’t stop either of us from continuing to slaughter enemy soldiers, but by the end of the night, Will was no longer so eager to take lives.
Once upon a time, we were innocent. And then we were not.
The next few days at the king’s estate are strangely quiet. Our time here is almost up. Not much progress has been made between my father and the king as far as negotiations go. My father enters our suite each day weary and beaten down. The WUN is not in a position to make an advantageous agreement, and the king is making that clearer now more than ever.
If we can’t reach an agreement in the next two days, when our flight is scheduled to leave, the king will continue to wage war on us until we’re forced to surrender, and then the WUN will have to agree with whatever demands he asks.
The twisted king hasn’t tried to see me since our brief interaction in his map room, yet our last visit managed to spook me. I can’t tell how much of what he said was true and how much of it was a lie. The king is a tactical mastermind, that much I know. So I can trust that whatever he decides will be solely in his best interest. I’ll get used, and so will the WUN.