Page 74 of The Fox Heir

My stomach twists. There wasn’t enough time to prepare him for what’s coming. But, then again, I suppose there’s not enough time in the world for that.

The queen continues, “I have a gift for you.”

My internal alarm bells ring.

Hunter tilts his head to the side. “A gift?”

The Dead Queen holds out a hand toward Nalina, whose eyes grow dark with concern.

“My queen, perhaps it would be wise⁠—”

The Dead Queen turns her face toward Nalina. “Do not question me again.” Her voice is low, that unnatural, haunting element returned.

My skin prickles, and my eyes dart to Hunter to watch his reaction. The corners of his mouth are pulled down in a worried expression, his eyes locked on the Dead Queen.

Nalina hesitates, but she doesn’t protest further. She reaches behind the black wood and iron throne and retrieves something that steals my breath away.

Nalina places a long silver sword in the Dead Queen’s open hands. Its pommel is molded into the face of a copper fox with ruby red eyes. The fox wraps around the cross-guard, ending in a silver-tipped tail. This is no ordinary sword. It’s also strikingly familiar.

Hunter’s eyes grow wide. “My father’s sword. But how did you … it was on the ship …” His voice is filled with reverence.

“It washed up on the shore with your men.”

The dead men, she means. I try not to think about the swollen bodies of the drowned scattered about the pebbled shore like driftwood. Another gust of wind howls through the rafters overhead as tiny snowflakes rain down on us in slow motion.

The Dead Queen holds the ornate sword out toward Hunter.

He walks forward as if in a dream. He’s only feet away from the Dead Queen when a horrible thought crosses my mind. What if she means to kill him with it? When she doesn’t, I let out a breath.

Hunter reaches forward to take his father’s sword from the queen’s black-gloved hands. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

“There’s more.”

Hunter’s face pales further. “More?”

The Dead Queen raises a hand. Behind us, the doors to the throne room open. Two Wolves dressed in black furs enter the room, carrying a crate between them. Their steps echo on the stone floor as they approach. They set the crate before the throne.

“Open it,” the queen commands.

One of the guards uses a pry bar to remove the crate’s nails. The wooden lid pops open. Inside, lies a copper man. Or, rather, just the shape of one. Hunter’s copper-plated armor rests on a bed of soggy straw. All that’s missing are the copper-plated gauntlets that his father melted in the fires at Ellyll.

Hunter stumbles up to it, then trails one hand over the helm with its decorative plating. He holds his father’s old sword up in front of the armor, as if he can’t believe this is all real. He turns back to the Dead Queen with wide eyes.

“Why would you give these back to me?”

Her words are careful, measured. “Let’s call it a show of good faith.”

Fear begins to needle its way into my gut. I have no idea which way this encounter will go, but I’m certain there’s more to this show than ‘good faith.’ Like a skilled card player, she still hasn’t revealed her hand. Her secret identity. She’s playing a game, and I don’t like being an unwilling pawn. I need to speak up.

My voice has an undeniable edge to it. “I have a feeling there’s a price to this generosity.”

Hunter and Nalina turn toward me, blinking as if they forgot I was here.

“Everything comes with a price, Fox Heir.” The Dead Queen’s voice is low with warning.

“Then it’s hardly a gift.”

From behind her black veil, she clucks. “Such a rude guest.”