It was not entirely the ascent of such an unnatural creature to the throne that troubled the queen. It was true that a half-fairy ruler would be a sign to allies and enemies alike that the rot withering their country had eaten to the heart of the throne itself, and evil ruled. The already dissatisfied peasantry would see her as no different. Cygna was an untested and weak girl-child who could command no one’s respect. Which conflict would swallow them first, civil war or crusade? But she feared far more personal repercussions to Cygna’s ascent to power. There was no love between them, and both the queen and Aila could expose Cygna’s secret. That made them a liability. With the young ruler newly crowned, the mother and her daughter would be superfluous. To Gyda’s mind, it was a matter of her own survival to see that Aila was declared the true heir, and Cygna removed. If she could influence who came to power, she could influence her own fate.
When King Torvald’s advisers predicted the Lindworm’s arrival in the capital to be within the week, and the king turned from the problem yet again, Gyda took her opportunity.
“You can’t leave every issue in the hands of your privy council,” she said on the eve of Cygna’s birthday. “You must act. The people need to see you act. What good are you if you won’t fulfill the most basic function of a king?”
“They tell me steel does nothing against it. And you have burned all the witches who might have helped us. What action is there left for me to take? Leave me alone, woman. I will be taking my supper with Cygna.”
“There are alternatives to steel, if you will only listen.”
“I am exhausted of this responsibility. Tell my advisers.”
“The Lindworm is a creature of the Otherworld you are so fond of.”
“I cannot see how. You have seen to the destruction of every gateway left in our kingdom.”
“Which means it must have found some other bridge. A connection between its world and ours.”
“Then have it destroyed. Good night.”
“The bridge is Cygna.”
The king stopped in his retreat.
“She is a creature of two worlds that you were irresponsible enough to make, and to let live,” Gyda pressed. “It is she who links our worlds together. Why else would it come now, when you are poised to place her on your throne? It has come to either champion her or take her back, and it will devour us as it does.”
Torvald sank against the wall and pinched the bridge of his nose. “And I should take it on faith that her death would save us? I would trust you, and you would pour poison in my ear and cause me to kill my only joy.”
Gyda laid a tender hand on her husband’s arm. “I have never felt for her as you do; I cannot deny that. It is my resentment toward you that has always led me to tell you the truth, for I know how much it hurts you. For that I am sorry. Once your advisers understand the link between Cygna and the Lindworm, they will have you kill her. But I beg you now, stay your hand. Spare your daughter’s life. There is nothing to be gained in destroying her. We can save her, and in turn she will save us.”
“How? How do I save her from them?”
“The Lindworm is not the only monster that threatens us. Our allies threaten to withhold aid if we do not send soldiers for their wars. Our enemies send spies into our court to probe our weaknesses and discover the truth behind rumors of a demon daughter. And there is talk of a people’s revolt against the crown. What good is a child monarch against all that—whichever daughter you choose to succeed you? I know you intend to name Cygna, but she has no claim as she is. She is a stranger. A broken little princesses no one will follow. But a queen of fearsome fae blood, one who championed your people against her own kind . . . that would command respect. And if you intend to proceed in your folly, sending her to confront the Lindworm is your only option.”
“I will not risk her, not by sending her to face the Lindworm and not by exposing her nature. The result would be no different than if I wielded the headsman’s axe myself.”
“Her nature is our greatest weapon. If she succeeds, she will have proved herself worthy of your throne and win the hearts of the court. Allies and enemies will fear and respect us. What threat of civil war can there be with a creature such as her to keep insurgents in their place?”
“She doesn’t have your ruthlessness.”
“Of course she does. She is one of the Fair Folk. You may not see it, but she has preserved herself this long despite the many people within these walls who wish her ill.”
“No. She will stay here with me. My advisers will think of something. It’s their duty.”
“If you do not send Cygna away to face it, it will come here and there will be nothing left of us. Not finger nor feather. Do not trap her here, as you have trapped me for more than twenty years, to become a withered husk of the woman she once was, or might have been. Let her discover the world for herself and seek the lands she came from. Whatever curse you have bought upon us, let her be the instrument by which you save us.”
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