Cayla Kluver - The Queen's Choice

Magic was seeping out of me, black and agonizing. I could see it drifting away. The magic that would let me pass the Road to reach home again.

When sixteen-year-old Anya learns that her aunt, Queen of the Faerie Kingdom of Chrior, will soon die, her grief is equaled only by her despair for the future of the kingdom. Her young cousin, Illumina, is unfit to rule, and Anya is determined not to take up the queen’s mantle herself.

Convinced that the only solution is to find Prince Zabriel, who long ago disappeared into the human realm of Warckum, and persuade him to take up his rightful crown, Anya journeys into the Warckum Territory to bring him home. But her journey is doomed to be more harrowing than she ever could have imagined….

Books by Cayla Kluver

from Mira ink

The Legacy Trilogy

(in reading order)

Legacy

Allegiance

Sacrifice

The Heirs of Chrior Trilogy

The Queen’s Choice

The Queen’s Choice

Cayla Kluver

www.miraink.co.uk

This book is dedicated to Grandma Bev and Grandpa Noel,

whose support has made so many impossible things possible.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Acknowledgments

Questions for Discussion

CHAPTER ONE

PREDICTION

I stood at the end of the Road, feeling the frigid breeze and watching the leaves rustle in their dizzying patterns. I had a jerkin and cloak to keep me warm, a long-knife to protect me, but I knew how many souls haunted this place, and it was impossible to feel at ease.

The path and trees were white with snow, but in my mind I saw them red with soldiers’ blood. It ran down the trunks like sap and flooded the walk. There was a legacy burned into the core of this place, and the passage of years could not see it forgotten. Fae and human alike were reluctant to set foot here.

It was not my first time traversing the Bloody Road, the site of the historic battle between human and Fae, so some of its mystique was lost on me. But as my legs were stroked by the hands of the lonely and the angry, of those who could not leave this place, a chill seeped into the marrow of my bones. I walked on, passing into the Realm of my people, for though the lonely and the angry of this Road had taken many, they could not capture me. The power of the elements that ran in my blood spared me.

Despite my long journey, my exhaustion fell away once the city came into view. The human world, though fascinating, could be wearying, whereas Chrior, the ancient cradle of Fae magic, was rejuvenating. Nothing had been destroyed to make these homes possible; centuries ago, when the Faerie race had been even closer to the elements, the trees had been manipulated by Earth Fae, the ground had been raised and dropped where necessary, and a city had been constructed while the forest had been allowed to go on living.

Snow shimmered around me, falling and filling my footprints. I dropped my magical shroud and unfolded my membrane wings, which glinted green, gold, and ice-blue like oil in sunlight. Hovering skyward, I let the thin cold air of winter test them as I flew to the Great Redwood, which had long ago parted its trunk for the royal Fae who protected and inhabited it, calling themselves the Redwood Fae. The ancient tree’s orangey bark was coated with icicles, but I felt warmth radiating from inside. I ran my fingers over the love-carvings that surrounded the entrance—artistic tributes left by Fae, tiny designs across the surface of a bark that ran deep—and contentment filled my soul. It was good to see the world. It was better to come home.

Far beneath me, on the ground inside the Redwood, the Queen’s Court was in session. Revelers with wings in myriad colors feasted and danced, their laughter, music, and conversation bouncing joyously around me.

On her throne of twined roots, Queen Ubiqua presided, and on both sides she was joined by her closest followers: my father, Cyandro, who served as her Lord of the Law; the eight members of her Council, among them my grandfather, the former reigning Prince; and Davic, the young man to whom I had entrusted my heart. Three chairs in addition to my own stood empty, but one most glaringly—the throne that belonged to Ubiqua’s husband, who had never occupied it before his death.

I straightened my jerkin and handed my cloak and pack to a member of the royal guard, who would see that they were sent to my quarters. Then I hastened downward, following the spiraling ridge that ran along the inner walls of the tree until at last I came to the floor.

Almost immediately after I pressed into the midst of the Court—a jostling body of heat and fresh-spiced winter scents—arms were flung around my waist from behind, nearly knocking me into another Fae. I craned my head around and saw exactly who I expected to find embracing me. My best friend Ione, her blond waves adorably woven through a headband of scarlet berries, had playfully ambushed me.

“I was hoping you’d be back tonight,” she exclaimed, beaming in her modest way. “The entire Court was. May the Queen’s reign flourish!”

The cry was echoed by the Faefolk who now surrounded me, and I managed to return Ione’s hug before shouts of “Sale!” floated from the crowd. A bark mug was thrust at me, and I happily accepted the drink that ran from our trees and nourished the Faerie kind more powerfully than any food.

Once I’d finished sharing greetings and toasts, I abandoned my empty goblet and approached the Queen. A long queue, monitored by the Queen’s Blades in their bedazzling tunics, led to her throne of gnarled and ancient roots. My aunt smiled, kind and patient, as every member of her Court endured the procession to greet her and extend their respects. I drew up beside the line and walked its length, nodding to the Blades I passed.

The Queen’s face lit up when I drew near, and I fell to one knee, placing my forefinger upon her earthen perch. When I removed it, a droplet of dew was left in its place among hundreds of others frozen there in her honor, for tonight marked the twenty-fifth anniversary of my aunt’s coronation. The droplets were gifts from Water Fae, sparkling amidst leaves and berries from Earth Fae, glowing embers like rubies from Fire Fae, and clearest crystals filled with whispers of fog and cloud from Air Fae. The elemental offerings would dissipate within the week, allowing room for the city’s general public and not just the Queen’s Court to pay tribute to her.

“Anya! How was your journey?” Queen Ubiqua effused, leaning forward to be heard above the revelry. Having her gaze upon me, as always, was like meeting Time—there was something incomprehensible about her, something infinite. She didn’t suffer the same worries I did because her wisdom transcended them.

“Enlightening,” I replied, rising, but I could not keep my eyes from drifting toward Davic. It was proper to acknowledge the Queen before the others around her, but it was he who was foremost on my mind. His gray-blue eyes muted the bedlam in the trunk, drawing me in as though nothing existed beyond the landscape of his elegant jaw, the black hair pulled into a ponytail at the nape of his neck, and the parting of his lips, an aphrodisiac in itself. He grinned at me, gripping the arms of his chair like he might propel himself upward at any moment and fly to my side.