Page 39 of An Archer's Redemption

I continued down the stairs, pausing only briefly before the massive doors of the crypt, locking them behind me from inside. The magical flames cast an eerie glow, but this time I didn’t care. I marched to the far end of the marble hallway, peered into the mirror resting against one wall, then walked purposefully through the glass and vanished, leaving the flames to ponder the dead without me.

The cave’s magical flames mirrored those of the crypt, casting a smokeless glow throughout the rough-walled cavern. I took a few steps beyond the mirror and stopped, a chill running up my spine with the memories of my last visit. I knew Keelan hadn’t meant to harm me—that the real Keelan would never hurt anyone without cause—but I couldn’t keep the trickle of fear at bay.

Flame light glinted off the silver pitcher resting on one of the round wooden tables, and a smile emerged. How had I forgotten about the mystical drink that waited so patiently for my return? I sat and poured a cup, the first fruity sip washing away my anxiety and fear, leaving only a clear mind and pleasant hint of chocolate.

Finally calm, my gaze traveled around the cavern.

Cots, tables, shelves—just as I remembered it.

Atikus had told me it would take Keelan a week or two to arrive, so I pulled out my book and leaned back for a relaxing read. I had been honest with the priest when I talked about how little time alone I had enjoyed since returning. The quiet of the cave was a welcome respite from my long days shepherding the Palace’s efforts.

Even a queen needed a moment’s peace.

Hours passed. When I tired of reading, I retrieved a small wooden box filled with blank parchment, a quill, and tin of ink. For once, I had the peace and quiet to think. I turned my mind to the most pressing issues facing my kingdom, starting with key roles I had yet to fill.

A messenger had arrived from the army the day before. I was relieved to learn that General Marks had survived and was leading what remained of my forces home. I scribbled, “Minister of War,” then wrote, “Marks?” beside it. I thought a moment and put another note to the side of the name: “Chancellor?” That idea had come to me as I lay awake a few nights earlier, unable to sleep with matters of state spinning in my head. Uncle Ethan had been my family’s closest friend and confidant. He might not make a great spymaster, but he could lead my Ministers.

Moreover, I trusted him. He might be the only person in the Kingdom I could say that about. The sadalonenessin that thought gave me pause.

I noted several other roles and potential candidates, then decided to think through other items.

The Kingdom faced a dwindling Gift.

Thorn might’ve been a snake in the grass, but he wasn’t wrong about the desperate situation with our magical bloodline. I wrote, “Gift—exchange with Melucia? Island tribes? Eastern states?” I had far more questions than answers when my quill stopped moving. After a moment’s pause, another idea struck, and I wrote, “Atikus/Melucia’s Guild.” The old Mage always wanted to talk about the future, so we would do just that.

For the next several hours, I grappled with rebuilding the Kingdom’s military, dealing with the poor educational system in towns outside the capital, the plight of farmers whose crops had been confiscated for the war effort, the endless stream of orphans and widows created by the war, and dozens of otherproblems I had no idea how to solve. When I set my quill down and leaned back, my mind felt numb.

As I rubbed weary eyes, a horse whinnied beyond the cavern’s entrance. Then hooves clomped against the rocky shore. I shot out of my chair and froze, my unwavering glare fixed on the cave’s far wall that I knew was a hidden entrance. In the space of a breath, the most beautiful creature I had ever seen poked his head through the magical stone.

“Dittler!” A giddy young girl’s squeal flew from my lips as I raced forward. Dittler met me halfway and buried his head into my shoulder. The cheerful clatter of the stallion’s hooves made me giggle as he danced with the thrill of our reunion.

“I missed you so much, my baby boy,” I said.

Dittler whinnied again and licked my face with a slobbery tongue.

“Your Majesty looks good in drool,” a deep, amused voice said from the entrance.

My head snapped up, and Keelan’s eyes met mine for the first time in weeks.

I saw only kindness and warmth, no trace of the malevolent evil that had stalked me before. Keelan’s face broke into laughter as drool fell from my forehead into my eye, forcing me to swat it away with the back of my hand.

“You realize it is a crime to laugh at the monarch? I could have your head . . . or something . . . I am sure it would bevery badfor you,” I stammered, trying to walk the line between stern and witty. Dittler startled me with another lick.

Keelan snorted. “A nation of laws. I like it here.”

I tossed an empty silver cup in his direction and grinned when he ducked.

He looked up, sarcasm dripping from his tongue as he said, “Regal as ever, Your Majesty.”

I chuckled and offered a mock curtsey. “I am so glad you approve, Lieutenant.”

The ice now thoroughly shattered by Dittler’s slobber, Keelan stepped forward and gripped the horse’s reins. His confident face betrayed something I hadn’t seen a moment before. He looked down and stroked Dittler’s side. “It’s good to see you again, Your Majesty . . . I mean, Jess. I . . . I don’t even know how to apologize for . . . well . . .”

I was tempted to let him struggle with his apology, simply for the amusement of watching the huge man writhe, but finally saved him. My voice was firm, yet also gentle. “Keelan, stop. It was not you who attacked me, but itwasyou who saved me in the end. I know that. It may take some time to get used to everything, but you bear no blame for what happened. Besides, you forced me to face my destiny, and I am grateful for that.”

He cocked his head like a confused pup.

I grinned. “Come and sit. I remember how much you loved this wine, and my cook insists I take cheese, bread, and meat with me everywhere. We can catch up with a small meal.”

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