Chapter 22
· URSLA ·
Ursla bent to collect the spear from the pool.
She turned it over in her hand and nodded, impressed.
The Mer Queen’s mask she picked up, too.
Clever craftsmanship, almost uncannily appropriate given the turn of events.
She chuckled as she put it on and made her way outside into fresher air.
Even tainted by gunpowder and the pained gasps of dying humans, it beat the scents of fish and salt water.
Soon it would be filled with festival flowers and the heady essences of blood orange groves.
She walked to the garden’s edge and peered out over the city. Ennova and the large man had disappeared into the trees a ways down the mountain. She liked the spirit of that one. It would be a shame to have to put her down.
Queen of the Sea. Queen on Land. Five thousand years and half as many deals, and not a single fucking Old God had had the foresight to see just how inevitable she was.
She would remake this ridiculous little country in her image.
It would be the first. The business of ruling had never much bothered her.
The girl had even corralled her a batch of first sacrifices at the basilica.
With a pleased and therapeutic exhale, the seas to the east were calmed again, and her legions in the city below were drawn back to their drowned hell just in time for the sun to rise on a better nation.
She startled as she turned back to see a woman appear in the doorway. “My Light! You’re back!”
Ursla looked her over. Not a soldier. Much too bookish. Her wringing hands were much too soft. As she was inspected, she’d also become much too anxious in the face.
A useful one, not a threat.
The girl screaming within her called her Orie.
“Where’s Nova?” Orie asked, confusion blinking across her face.
“Have the army secure the prisoners at the basilica and fetch the senators,” Ursla commanded. She moved past Orie and her gaping mouth back toward the throne room. “Collect the Drake girl, as well. We’d like to have her for dinner.”
The witch’s steps faltered as a blinding white pain shot across her brain.
The girl had some fight in her yet. Time would handle that.
“So sorry about this, little one,” she said to herself, righting her new body and ascending the steps to the throne. The seat itself was well worn and could do with a bit more of a flourish. She smiled. “But I did promise you’d be back on your throne.”