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Anthony Ryan
Queen of Fire
For Rod, Helen, Amber and Kyle
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Once again many thanks to my excellent editor at Ace, Susan Allison, who started this ball rolling three years ago with an e-mail to some guy in the UK whoʼd sold a few copies of his self-published fantasy book. Also, deep appreciation to my UK editor, James Long, for his support and commitment to this project. And finally, heartfelt thanks to my long-suffering second set of eyes, Paul Field.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the authorʼs imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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PART I
The raven knows no rest
His shadow ceaseless
Upon the earth.
— SEORDAH POEM, AUTHOR UNKNOWN
VERNIERSʼ ACCOUNT
He was waiting on the wharf when I arrived with my prisoner in tow. Standing tall as always, angular features turned towards the horizon, his cloak wrapped tight against the seaward chill. My initial puzzlement at finding him here faded as I caught sight of the ship leaving the harbour, a narrow-hulled vessel of Meldenean design, sent to the Northern Reaches with an important passenger, one I knew he would miss greatly.
He turned to regard my approach, a tight, wary smile on his lips, and I realised he had lingered to witness my own departure. Our interactions since the relief of Alltor had been brief, somewhat terse in truth, distracted as he was by the ceaseless tumult of war and whatever malady had plagued him in the aftermath of his already legendary charge. The fatigue that turned his once-strong features into a sagging mask of red-eyed lethargy and his strident if coarse voice into a droning rasp. It had faded now, I could see.
Recent battle seemed to have restored him somehow, making me wonder if he found some form of sustenance in blood and horror.
“My lord,” he greeted me with a sketch of a formal bow then nodded at my prisoner. “My lady. ”
Fornella returned the nod but gave no response, regarding him without expression as the salt-tinged wind tossed her hair, a single streak of grey visible amidst the reddish brown tumult.
“I have already received ample instruction…” I began but Al Sorna waved a hand.
“I come to offer no instruction, my lord,” he said. “Merely a farewell and my best wishes for your endeavour. ”
I watched his expression as he waited for a response, the wary smile smaller now, his black eyes guarded. Can it be? I wondered. Is he seeking forgiveness?
“Thank you, my lord,” I replied, hefting the heavy canvas bag to my shoulder. “But we have a ship to board before the morning tide. ”
“Of course. Iʼll accompany you. ”
“We donʼt need a guard,” Fornella said, her tone harsh. “Iʼve given my word, tested by your truth-teller. ” It was true, we walked alone this morning without escort or formality. The reborn court of the Unified Realm had little time or inclination for ceremony.
