It occurred to me how horrible it must be to live here. The gentry lacked most of the technology of my own world. No central air-conditioning. No electric fans. This place had to be roasting these people alive, particularly after what they’d been used to before I came along.
Feeling bad for them, I reached out to the air around me with my mind. For a moment, there was nothing, and then I sensed the moisture particles hanging in the air. There weren’t many, but they were there. Spreading beyond the room, I pulled in more moisture, undoubtedly turning nearby halls and rooms into ovens. In here, however, the temperature dropped and grew moist. A slight thrill ran through me, as often happened when I tapped my inherited gentry magic.
Tentatively, I then attempted to move the air itself in some sort of breeze. Nothing. I had managed that feat only once and couldn’t repeat it.
Realizing what I’d done, Shaya crooked me a grin. “Thank you, your majesty.”
I smiled back and stood. They all hastily followed suit, and I waved them down. “Hang out here if you want. It should stay cool for a little longer. I’m going to go do my…thing. Then we’ll go.”
I left the castle for one of its courtyards, a wide, terraced area that I loved. Saguaros and blooming prickly pears lined it. Purple-flowered smokethorns, the tree that had given this land its name, stood sentry, as did mesquite, filling the air with sweetness. A few hummingbirds darted here and there like bright, flying gemstones.
I sat on one of the steps that led to the upper gardens and closed my eyes. This was why I had to come back. If left to me, I would have never returned. But once the Thorn Land had bound itself to me, it was mine. It depended on me for its survival. I didn’t entirely understand my connection to it, but it was unbreakable. It was the reason I dreamed about this place. There was no escaping it.
The sun beat down on me, forever reminding us we answered to nature in the end. My body relaxed, and soon, the life of the land spread into me. It always startled me at first, and then I quickly adapted, like it was the most natural thing in the world. The land was me, and I was the land. We were one, neither of us complete without the other.
When I came to, I think almost an hour had passed. I stood up, shaking off my trance. I had extracted myself from that joining with the land but knew it was still with me. It was stronger for having just made the connection. I had fulfilled my duty.
My party set out shortly thereafter. Horse riding was a skill I’d had to perfect pretty quickly since hanging out around here. There were no cars or planes.
Shaya, Rurik, and Nia were with me, as were about a dozen guards. The guards rode stoically, eyes alert and watchful as they surrounded us. Rurik occasionally barked out an order to them, but mostly he bantered with Shaya and flirted with Nia. I wasn’t too good at casual conversation and mostly just listened, more entertained by them than I wanted to admit.
It was late morning, and the sun showed us no mercy as we traveled. I fared better than the rest, wearing shorts and sunglasses. The other women at least had lightweight dresses, but the men wore full leather armor and had to suffer considerably. None of them complained, not even Rurik, but sweat poured down their faces.
So, it was something of a relief when we hit our first shift in the land. It’s an oddity of the Otherworld that it folds in upon itself. Traveling is disorienting. In going in a straight line out of my kingdom, it was entirely possible to cross other kingdoms and then my own again without deviating from our course.
We crossed into the Oak Land, and suddenly it was as though the Thorn Land had never existed. You couldn’t even see it behind us. One of the guards broke his rigid demeanor to emit a small cheer that made everyone laugh. A cool, almost chill breeze rushed over us. Late autumn had settled on the Oak Land, setting the trees on fire with brilliant colors. It was gorgeous-and much more comfortable-but I secretly hoped we’d pass out of it soon. I had too many disturbing memories of this place.
Sure enough, we soon crossed into the Thorn Land again, slamming into that unforgiving heat. It felt like traveling in circles, but the others assured me we stayed on course. That stint was brief, and our next shift took us to the Rowan Land. Late summer ruled here, but it was a more temperate summer than my own kingdom’s. Cherry trees filled the landscape. Last I’d seen them, pink blossoms had covered almost every square inch of the branches. Now, as I looked closer, I could see bright red fruit weighing them down.
And it was then that the wights attacked.
Wights were denizens of the Otherworld, and while they weren’t spirits exactly, they had the ability to turn invisible. So, my guards’ vigilance had done no good. I counted seven as they swooped out of the orchards. They wore gray clothing and had long, pale faces. For the most part, they looked very much like humans and gentry. Light flared around them as they rained down bolts of power upon us. Wights were even more strongly tied to magic than the gentry, and conventional weapons had little effect on them. You had to take them down with magic. Unfortunately, the storm magic I’d inherited from my father still wasn’t quite up to hardcore attacks. Neither was my guards’ magic. Special magic-wielding soldiers aside, I’d learned most warriors here were weak in magic; it was why they’d chosen a more physical profession.
I still suspected the silver bullets in my Glock might hurt the wights. Only, I had a problem. My guards had closed rank around Nia-the only civilian here-and me. Getting a shot off would likely kill one of them.
“Let me out!” I yelled. “Let me fight!”
The guards ignored me and, in fact, redoubled their own shouts of “The queen! Protect the queen!”
Swearing, I managed to lean through and get a shot off that took one of the wights in the chest. It didn’t kill him but clearly caused severe injury. Nearby, a cherry tree ripped itself from the earth. Infused by magic and therefore potentially lethal, it attacked the wounded wight. That was Shaya’s handiwork. She had been a warrior before settling into my administration.
As we fought, I soon deduced the point of this attack. The wights wanted me-not to kill me, but for other…more amorous purposes. They didn’t seem to have much organization save to hack through and see who could get to me. Whoever did could have me.
It sickened me, and an old, familiar fear welled up. I could handle concussions, broken bones, and the other myriad effects of my vocation. Rape was not something I could contend with. It had become a daily danger, however, since learning about my half-gentry heritage. My father, honorifically dubbed Storm King, had been a tyrannical warlord-one of the most powerful magic users the Otherworld had ever seen. He’d been intent on crossing over and conquering humanity. He’d come damned close, too, until my stepfather, Roland, had defeated him. Unfortunately, a prophecy had surfaced in Storm King’s wake, a prophecy that said his daughter’s son would complete his work. That was why I was such a hot commodity among Otherworldly males who believed in Storm King’s vision. It was also why Jasmine wanted to get pregnant.
Giving up on the gun, I produced my jewel-studded wand and started simply casting out the wights to the Underworld. Instant death. As I did my thing and the guards did theirs, we suddenly reached a point where all grew quiet. The wights were dead or gone.
Everyone in my party immediately looked to see if I was all right, which I found ridiculous since two of the guards lay on the ground, and a number of them were bleeding.
“Forget about me,” I snapped. “Check on them!”
None had died, much to my relief. Gentry were hard to kill in their own world. They were long-lived and hardy. One of the guards had some healing powers, and we spent a considerable amount of time patching the group up. When we finally set out again, Shaya glanced up at the sun’s position and frowned.