Shadow Heir

“If you’re able to reach that far, were you able to get any sense if you could undo the magic?”



“Not just then, no. It seemed like the magic was entrapping the land, and there was nothing I could do to break through.” I saw Roland frown but didn’t know if that was in disappointment or because of his inability to fully comprehend gentry magic. “Maybe in time, I could find a way.”



I wasn’t so sure, however. I had to imagine the other monarchs had experienced the same sensations I had, and if they hadn’t been able to find a way to crack the enchantment after all this time, it seemed unlikely I’d be able to either.



After a little traveling on the road, the land shifted, and we found ourselves in a different kingdom. I knew instantly that it wasn’t mine and was almost relieved to be free of the Rowan Land’s pleading. Without that innate connection, though, I couldn’t readily identify where we were. It took the sight of some massive oaks in the distance, their leafless branches burdened by snow, to tip me off.



“The Oak Land,” I murmured. Dorian’s kingdom. Even though I knew he’d been affected, it was still incredible to see the reality. Many of the other kingdoms around here had changed since I became a frequent visitor, but the red-hued, perpetual autumn of his realm had remained constant. It was unreal to see a land that had once flourished in vivid color, now so barren and stark.



“Do you want to see Dorian?” asked Roland.



“No,” I said, even though I kind of did. “We’ll stick to the original plan and check in with the Thorn Land first. I need to see my own people.”



Another shifting of the road took us back to the Rowan Land, and still another took us into the Willow Land. I cringed, expecting an ambush, but the world around us remained frozen and silent. The only change was that in addition to the wind that had been constantly blowing, snow now began falling as well. It stung our faces and eyes and continued when we made our next crossing, into the Thorn Land.



Although the land had its own unique feel, its cry for freedom matched that of my other kingdom. I stared around, watching the snow fall, unable to believe that this landscape had once been a mirror of Tucson.



“We’ve got to go off the road now to reach the castle,” I said. “Usually there’s a smaller road or at least a path that splits away, but if there’s anything like that ...” I shook my head at the drifts, unable to differentiate one from another. “Well. It’s buried.”



Roland eyed the snow, which was as high as three feet in some places, depending on how the wind had blown it. The visible parts of his face were red, and I knew he was as cold as me. “This is going to be fun to walk through. You’re sure you know where you’re going?”



“Yeah. I can feel where everything is around here, and the castle’s that way.” I hesitated before continuing. “You probably won’t like this, but I can make things a little easier.”



The blight’s enchantment was too powerful and all-encompassing for me to break or affect on a large scale with my weather magic, but I still had some control over the individual elements. The blight’s greater spell had been to simply lay wintry weather on the land. Once in place, that weather behaved like any other. I summoned my magic to me, gathering the air and already gusting wind. Directing it forward, I made the air blast into the snow ahead of us, serving as a magical snow blower to create a more accessible path. Roland scowled but didn’t protest. He knew as well as I did that we’d be out here all day if we had to trudge through this mess unaided.



Still, it took us a few hours to reach our destination, and by that point, I could barely feel my limbs. I kept telling my legs to move forward and took it on faith that they’d obey. I was also just exhausted. Even with magical help, we still had to walk through some snow, and I was a long way from being in my former physical shape. Roland, judging from his heavy breathing beside me, was fighting hard too.



The Thorn Land’s blocky fortress of a castle came into sight when we were still a good distance from it. The terrain’s basic features had remained under the blight, and the land was relatively flat here, making the black stone building show up in high contrast against the snow. We were close enough to be in range of patrolling guards, and one of them soon rode up to us, demanding to know who we were.



“Me,” I said, braving the cold to remove my hat and scarf.



It took several moments of staring before his face registered recognition. Even then, it was easy to tell he didn’t believe what he saw. “Y-Your Majesty? Is it really you?”



“The same,” I said, bundling back up. “Just a little colder.”



The guard turned and yelled something. Moments later, another scout rode up and shared his colleague’s shock and amazement. “Ride back and tell them she’s here,” said the first guard. He dismounted and offered his horse to Roland and me. “Go on and get warm. I’ll follow on foot.”



I started to protest, but the guard was dressed warmly and had probably become more used to this weather than we were. I thanked him and mounted the horse with Roland. My body remembered how to do it without difficulty, and I was again pleased to be regaining my former agility. The horse moved slower with two, but our speed was much better than if we’d been on foot. The guard who’d ridden ahead had long since beaten us, so we found a crowd waiting for us at the castle’s entrance.



I climbed down from the horse ungracefully—reminding me I shouldn’t be quite so cocky yet about my improved athleticism. The clumsy move made me look like an undignified queen, but it was clear none of that mattered once the people caught sight of my face. I heard awed gasps, and one by one, they began falling to their knees in the snow with murmurs of “Your Majesty.” I’d never been entirely comfortable with these shows of loyalty in the best conditions, let alone snowy and frigid ones. I was about to urge them to get up when I noticed one person still standing.



“Jasmine!” I exclaimed, rushing forward.



My sister stood wrapped in a fur-lined cloak, her face pale. It flooded with relief when I caught her in a big hug. She returned it with more fierceness than I would’ve expected, considering we weren’t usually so touchy-feely. “Thank God you’re back,” she said into my shoulder. “Now we can fix all this.”



I wasn’t ready to tell her yet that I wasn’t sure I could fix it. Yet, as I finally managed to get everyone to return inside, I could see from the servants’ faces that they too thought everything would improve now that I was back. That faith made me uneasy. I also noted that, aside from the guards who’d been on patrol, Jasmine was the only one in any sort of suitable gentry-style winter attire. The others who had rushed out to see me had been wearing clothing that had clearly been patched together to protect against the cold, with mismatched layers haphazardly arranged. Better than nothing, I supposed.



After a few greetings and nondescript assurances, Roland and I were able to leave the crowd and meet Jasmine in a cozy sitting room. When Aeson, this kingdom’s former ruler, had been in charge, the land had undergone seasons, and the castle had been built to accommodate winter. That had made for miserable conditions once I turned the land into a desert, often making this keep feel like a kiln. Now, that design paid off. The sitting room was small, with no windows, and held the heat coming from a blazing fire. I was pretty sure it was the first time I’d ever seen one of the fireplaces in use here.



Jasmine told me she’d sent word “to the others,” whatever that meant. She then gave orders for food and drink to the servants before finally settling into a chair. There was a maturity to her that hadn’t been there before, likely the result of being forced to take charge of so much so quickly. She kept her cloak on, but I was ready to remove my layers. I was still cold but felt heavy and encumbered. Roland must have felt the same way because he too stripped off his winter wear. We both found chairs and dragged them as close to the fire as possible. Jasmine sighed.



“I don’t know if it’s because I grew up in the desert or if it’s just because this weather’s such a bitch, but I swear—” Her jaw dropped as she did a double take at me. “You ... you’re not pregnant!”



I thought it had been obvious right away, but I suppose the coat might have been deceptive. “Nope, not anymore.”



“But you ...” Her words died again, and I could see her mentally crunching numbers in her head. “You shouldn’t be due for a few more weeks. Did you��”



“Everything’s fine,” I said quickly, seeing panic start to overtake her. “They just came early. About a month ago. They needed lots of medical help, but everything looks great for them.”



She relaxed, but her blue-gray eyes were still wide. “Then you’re ... wow. You’re a mom. And I’m an aunt.”



I smiled. “Yup. Their names are Isaac and Ivy.” I wasn’t going to say a word, not even to her, about their location, but their names were safe enough. That revelation got an even bigger reaction. Jasmine filled with delight.



“You named her after me!”



I frowned, not entirely sure where that leap of logic had come from. Because of shared botanical names? “Well, I—”



“Oh, Eugenie!” She jumped up from her chair and hugged me again, leaving the cloak behind. “You’re so awesome. Thanks so much!”



She seemed so happy that I figured it wasn’t worth mentioning the plant names were coincidental. Just as my un-layered state had surprised her, I was astonished to look at her now and see how skinny she was. I could feel her ribs when she hugged me.



“What happened to you?” I exclaimed, once she’d sat down again. “You’re skin and bones!”



Jasmine glanced down with a scowl and picked at her too-loose dress. “Oh, that. Well, there’s not a lot of food anymore. Plus, trying to keep the lands alive takes a lot out of me.”



Guilt ran through me. I certainly knew communing with the land took a fair amount of energy, but it hadn’t occurred to me until now that doing so in these conditions would be extra taxing—especially since she was just the substitute. Maybe that bonding wasn’t solely responsible for her weight loss, but I didn’t doubt that keeping the land in check played a role in some of the gauntness in her face.