The Unwilling Queen

If you lead, I will follow

She could feel the footsteps through the stone floor. Even in sleep Avery knew this was odd. Human footfalls would not be heavy enough to move solid rock. Perhaps it was the pulse of the mountain she felt, the steady thrum reaching her through the palm she pressed to its smooth surface.

There were words too, but those came from people. The words carried weight and emotion. Relief, happiness, concern, worry, determination, exhaustion, pride, hope. It felt loud for a handful of people. Avery tried to slip under the sound and descend back to that restorative sleep.

Someone sat by her head, propped up against the wall. Light fingers brushed hair from her face then took her hand and held it. She tried to pull away, concerned that the person would be burned, but her arm didn't respond. It only twitched and the person squeezed back, not letting go.

"How many is that now?"

"Just over seventy..."

"Not even a third..."

They were standing right next to her. Why couldn't they have their meeting elsewhere and let the seventy survivors sleep. She was finally comfortable. It no longer felt like insects were crawling under her skin, itching to get out. If she got up, she could get something to drink.

"What's her status?" The hand let go and the body moved away. Fresh air filled the space. It was cool again.

"She's still hot, but safe to touch. It feels like the rocks around her have warmed. We've moved the injured closer."

"Can she travel?"

"We don't know anything about recovery from magic." That was Robin. She knew Robin's voice. But he sounded older, weary. Being a Ranger had aged him already.

"We should move on before we're discovered again." Perhaps it was an officer. Who had survived the attack in the end?

"What of the Corinthians? Did they make it out?"

"Who cares --" Someone shushed him. "We have a chance to get her away from them," he added in a whisper.

"She clearly doesn't want that," another voice added.

"She's practically a child. She doesn't know what's best for her people."

"That child just saved our skin! So did the Corinthians. How many of us are alive because of them?"

The voices talked over each other, muddling all together. Avery wished they would just leave, go someplace else to have their argument.

"We need a surgeon to keep that curse at bay..."

"How do we even know that the sapien wasn't the one keeping her sick?"

Enough. That was enough. Hadn't the Corinthians earned some trust? Arctos trained their warriors, Ming-na treated their injured. She remembered Niamh grabbing that fire and pulling it away... then fire had gone into Avery. She had thought it was magic she saw in Niamh but in her heart she knew it was pain. And pain escaped with that fire, the release of pressure making her muscles relax.

Arctos had pulled her away. His eyes were hard, but not in commander mode. No, it was fear. And concern. Concern that Niamh would lose control. Memory of a terrible crime she committed a lifetime ago.

The fire returned to Avery's skin. Only now it was insects crawling all over her. In her semi-conscious state all she could muster was a twitch. She needed to wake up, control the fire so that Niamh wouldn't burn them. People were shouting, trying to flee. Was she awake? No, it must be a dream.

Someone grabbed her neck, trying to choke her. I know what you are. It was the man from Tree Tops. The spy who had betrayed the camp. He had survived the attack of course, and was now hidden amongst them in the cave. She swatted at the hand and rolled up, shuffling back and away from the attacker. Her hands were up in front of her face, shielding her from the next blow. None came.