Three things were happening at once: I was walking, Queen Victoria of Muir was walking behind me, and my brain was eating itself alive.
Was I hallucinating? That was a real possibility. I'd been hit in the head a lot recently. Blown up more than a few times. There was a solid chance I'd taken one too many fireballs to the skull and my brain had finally cracked in half and started generating the one fantasy it wanted most. Any second now I'd blink and she'd be gone, and I'd be standing in the middle of an empty road, talking to a tree.
I glanced behind me. She was still there. Walking with her hood up, cloak dragging on the cobblestones, looking around at the storefronts like she'd never seen a bakery before.
Oh God. Oh God, she was real.
I spun around and faced forward. My heart was pounding inside my chest, as if attempting to escape through my throat.
Did I smell okay? When was the last time I'd had a bath? I'd been at the tower all day. I'd been sweating. I'd been crying. I'd been in a screaming match with a demon queen who threw furniture at me. There was a nonzero chance I smelled like char. I lifted my arm and tried to sniff my own shoulder without turning my head. Inconclusive. I couldn't smell anything over the panic.
Fifteen minutes ago, I was on a forest road, feeling sorry for myself and replaying every word I'd said to the demon queen, wondering if any of them had been the right ones.
Now, I was walking beside Victoria at night alone.
"I tried to catch you earlier but you vanished," she'd said, brushing a leaf off her shoulder. "Literally. One second you were there and then—poof. Very mysterious. I liked it."
She liked it. The queen liked my panicked combat teleport. She thought it was mysterious... and she liked it! Squeeeeee!
"I've been looking for you all evening." She clasped her hands behind her back and tilted her head. "Everyone told me you'd most likely be at the tower, so I waited for you to come back."
"Aha," I'd said. "Yeah."
The most articulate response of my entire life. Ten years of magical education, a vocabulary that spanned two languages, and the best I could produce in front of the love of my life was "aha, yeah."
Victoria didn't seem bothered at all. She kept smiling, as if this was normal for her, as if she snuck out of castles all the time to track down sweaty mages on forest roads.
"Would you mind if we went somewhere a little more private?" She'd looked over her shoulder then. "If someone sees me out here, it'll be a mess. The castle is probably already in a frenzy. They must know I've slipped out by now."
"Yeah! Sure! Somewhere private. I know a—I have a—yes. Follow me."
So I found myself wandering the nighttime streets of Muir's capital at eleven o'clock, with the queen trailing behind me, heading to a destination I had not yet figured out.
Where exactly was I supposed to take her? The guild barracks? Yeah. Sure. "Welcome, Your Majesty. Watch your step, that stain is from a potion incident or a body. We're not sure. Can I offer you a seat on the bench that wobbles?"
I guess, there was Barney. His place was the only one in the city that I could knock on at this hour without someone calling the guards, and the one man who might open it.
Except that he hadn't opened it for months. He'd been ignoring me since—well, since I'd earned it. I hadn't exactly been making an effort, either. Too busy climbing a tower and getting exploded and obsessing over a demon queen to swing by and say hello.
But what else was there? What was I about to say? “Sorry, I actually don't have anywhere to go. I live in a shared dormitory with forty adventurers and a man who sleepwalks in his underwear. How about we just go sit in a cave in the woods? Very private. Slight chance of bears, though."
I turned around once more: she was still there. Still following. Her eyes met mine, and she raised an eyebrow. I whipped my head forward so fast my neck popped.
Okay. Okay, okay, okay. Be cool. You're being cool. You're leading the Queen through the city and you're being very cool about it.
I looked back again. I couldn't help it. She was right in front of me, in person. Her real face, not just a billboard or a picture on a canvas. Her. Walking behind me with her hood up, her hands tucked into her sleeves, and her chin held high, as if she were on a leisurely stroll rather than a covert midnight escape from her own palace.
She noticed me staring. She smiled.
I turned around and walked directly into a lamp post.
The metal rang. My forehead connected with the iron at full walking speed, and the sound echoed down the empty street like a bell. I staggered back, grabbed my face, and stood there for a full second, deciding whether to die on the spot or simply relocate to another continent.
Victoria laughed behind me.
And I forgot about the pain immediately because her laugh was the best sound I had ever heard in my life. Better than the notification chime when a spell leveled up. Better than the click of a new staff socketing. Better than the sound of a treasure chest opening or a boss-clear fanfare or anything else that had ever entered my ears. Her laughter was warm and radiant, with a touch of surprise, as if she hadn't anticipated making that sound. It ended in a curved shape that caused my stomach to flip.
"Are you all right?" she asked, still laughing, and covering her mouth with her hand.
"Yep. Fine. The lamp post moved."
She caught up to me then, and we fell into step. I got the full proximity experience. She was shorter than I had imagined. In portraits, she seemed tall. Up close, she was about my height, maybe a little shorter, and she smelled incredible. She smelled like baked bread and something floral, like honeysuckle, and underneath that something clean that I couldn't name but wanted to bury my face in.
"This way," I said, pointing down a side street with what I hoped came across as confidence.
Victoria followed suit. Her cloak caught on a stone and she stumbled. She grabbed my arm for a second to steady herself, then let go and kept walking.
She had touched my arm. The queen had touched my arm. I was never washing this sleeve again. I was going to cut it off the shirt and frame it. I was going to be buried in this shirt.
As we rounded the bend, Barney's clinic came into view. The same as always. Shuttered windows, warm light leaking through the cracks. The faded sign above a door that had been closed to me for months.
I tapped the door twice, gently, with a light tap of my knuckles. The curtain behind the shutters moved slightly. I heard the squeak of his chair and the groan of the aged floorboards. He was probably standing on the other side of the door and waiting for me to leave. I'd stood on this doorstep enough times in the last few months to have memorized his silence treatment patterns.
"I'm sorry." I whispered to Victoria. "I thought maybe he'd —"
The door burst open. Barney filled the frame. He wears a floral nightgown with purple flowers on cream. He has reading glasses on his nose and a cup of tea in his hand. His white hair was sticking up on one side like he'd slept in his chair again, and there was a hole in the left toe of his slippers.
"You!" He bellowed. "Showing your face here. After... how long has it been? Weeks? Months? I've lost count, Ayla, because I stopped counting after the fourth time you walked past my window without knocking. These old eyes still work. And now you dare show up at my door, at this hour, like nothing happened, like you didn't —"
His eyes drifted past my shoulder. His mouth kept moving for another half-second, running on momentum, before his brain caught up. The lecture ended. His gaze narrowed on the hooded figure behind me. I watched recognition hit him in stages, until his eyebrows launched toward his hairline and his tea sloshed over the rim of his cup.
He stepped back and held the door wide for me, and I went inside, feeling like I had been pardoned mid-execution. In the clinic, the examination table was pushed against the wall, and his reading chair was surrounded by a stack of textbooks. A single candle burned on the desk next to a plate with half a scone on it.
"Barney!" I turned and clapped my hands. "Looking good, old man. Seriously. Have you lost weight? You look great. Very spry. New nightgown? Love the print. The lavender really works for you. Is that a new candle? Smells incredible. Have you been redecorating?"
"Ayla, stop talking."
Victoria entered the building with her hood half covering her face, showing only her chin and mouth while keeping her eyes hidden. She acted like this was a disguise. "Thank you so much for your hospitality, sir. I apologize for the intrusion at this hour. I know it must be startling to have a stranger at your door."
"Not at all," Barney reassured her.
"I promise we won't impose for long. We'll be out of your hair very soon." She smiled.
"Of course," Barney said, in a very calm voice. "Please, make yourself comfortable."
Victoria bowed her head with grace and continued into the room, taking a closer look at the bookcases. The second her back was turned, Barney's hand shot out and grabbed my sleeve, yanking me toward the corner.
"Did you kidnap the queen?" He hissed.
"What? No! She followed me!"
"She followed you... why do I find that hard to believe?"
"I swear! I know how it sounds —"
"It sounds like treason! It sounds like I'm going to be executed for harboring —"
"She came to me! I was walking and she appeared and she said she'd been looking for me and I panicked and I didn't know where else to go because I don't have a home. Barney. I live in a barracks with forty people and a man who sleepwalks in his —"
"Why is the queen looking for you? Are you a fugitive now?"
"No! I don't know! She said everyone told her I'd be at the tower and —"
"The tower." His grip on my sleeve tightened. "You're still going to the tower?"
"That's—we can talk about that later—"
"Is everything all right?" Victoria was on the other side of the room. She had picked up one of Barney's medical texts and was holding it open, tilting her head. We both snapped upright. Barney released my sleeve. I smoothed out my shirt, and two smiles appeared simultaneously on two faces.
"Great!" I said.
"Wonderful!" Barney exclaimed.
"Perfect," I added.
"Absolutely fine," he agreed.
Victoria looked at us for a long moment, then went back to the book. Barney and I exchanged a look that contained an entire argument, three accusations, and a pending lecture.
"So," Victoria said, turning a page. She gently placed the book aside and faced us. "Are we able to speak now? I don't want to take too much of your evening."
"Yes!" My voice became hoarse as I said the word. "Yeah, totally. We can—let's talk. Let's do that."
"Can I offer you something to drink?" Barney switched into host mode so fast that I almost got whiplash. "Tea? I have peppermint, chamomile, and a blackberry blend —"
"Tea would be lovely," Victoria said.
"Wonderful. Ayla? Tea?"
"I'm good, thanks."
"Water? Cider? I have a bottle of mead somewhere, or there's a brandy that I keep for—well, for occasions, but this feels like an occasion."
"Barnes, we're fine." I widened my eyes at him and tilted my head toward the door, the universal body language for "Please leave now."
"I also have a tonic. Elderflower. Or if you'd prefer something warm, I could heat some milk with honey. I have a —"
"Barney." I widened my eyes further. My eyebrows had reached my hairline. I tilted my head harder.
"Right. Right, of course."
He went to the kitchen and returned with a cup of peppermint tea, which he placed in front of Victoria, then bowed and backed toward the doorway. "I'll give you two some privacy. I'll be in the other room if you need anything. Anything at all." He vanished around the corner. The floorboards groaned as he departed, then grew quiet, only to resume their creaking when he came to a halt. I inclined to the left and peered into the doorway.
The edge of his nightgown was visible in the frame. About three inches of purple flowers on cream, completely motionless, were at exactly the height of a man standing very still and trying not to breathe loudly.
I rolled my eyes. Fine. Couldn't be helped. Victoria sat in Barney's reading chair, her hood finally down, and her face was illuminated by candlelight as she cradled a cup of tea in both hands and looked at me. She was waiting. Her eyes were full of patient warmth, and she seemed impossibly present, as if I alone was worth her attention.
"You must be wondering what I'm doing here."
"A little bit, yeah."
She put the cup down and leaned back in Barney's chair. "It's silly, really. I've been curious about you for a while now, Ayla. I used to read every article about you, every guild report, every ranking update."
She tilted her head and studied me, and my stomach flipped.
"You were fascinating to follow. But lately there's been less about you in the papers." Her expression dimmed slightly. "That disappointed me."
I attempted to speak in response, but my mind remained blank. Sorry, I disappointed you, Your Majesty. I was preoccupied with a psychological breakdown caused by a demon?
"But I see you're still going to the tower. You're still pursuing the demon queen, yes?"
"Yeah." I rubbed the back of my neck, trying to appear casual. "About that —"
"I know you will be the one to defeat her. I truly do. No one has ever gotten as far as you. No one has ever come back after so many encounters. You have something, Ayla. Something the other challengers don't."
"That's... really kind of you."
"Tell me about her." Victoria leaned forward more. "The demon queen. Is she as terrible as they say?"
I spoke, then stopped.
"She's..." I managed. "She's complicated."
"Complicated? What is so complicated about some demon? She killed my husband."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry. Be the one who finishes it." She stood up. "I've been waiting for years for someone capable enough to reach that floor and end this. Every challenger who's tried has failed. But, when I saw you, I just knew: she's the one. She has to be."
"I appreciate the confidence but —"
"When she dies," Victoria said, "I want her throne melted down. I want the floor purified. I want every trace of her removed from that tower. And her body—." She paused for thought. "Her body should be displayed. At the gates of the capital. So the kingdom knows it's over. So everyone can see what happened to the thing that took him from me."
I stared at her.
"Or burned. Burning works too. Publicly. In the square. We could make it an event. A festival, even. The children would love it."
"The children would love watching a body burn?" I tried to cut in. "Listen, I wouldn't say I'm going to be the one who—"
"You are going to kill the demon queen, Ayla." She grabbed both my hands, and pulled me toward her. "You're going to free this kingdom." Her face was only a few inches away from mine. Her breath smelled of peppermint. Her eyes had gold flecks I had never seen in the portraits. All my thoughts suddenly disappeared from my mind.
God, how is she so pretty?
Victoria was still talking, moving her mouth and important words kept coming out: destiny, duty, the fate of a kingdom, but I caught none of it. I had to force myself to concentrate and bring my attention back to the present. "I'm sorry, what were you saying?"
She stopped mid-sentence. Then she smiled and squeezed my hands.
"I said I believe in you. Every floor you climb, you carry the hope of everyone who couldn't. Don't you dare stop now."
The whole room tilted on its side.
I recognized those words. I didn't know how or where, but they were ingrained in me, etched into a hidden part of my being. The candle on Barney's desk became distorted and split into two. The floor underneath my chair lurched.
“Holy shit,” I breathed, but I did not mean to say it out loud.
Victoria's expression changed to one of concern. “Ayla? Are you all right?"
Everything in my head had come loose sounds and colors flooded in from a direction that didn't exist. A laugh I knew deeper than my own pulse.
"Ayla?" Victoria's hand was on my arm. "You've gone pale."
"I'm... yeah. Will you give me a second?"
"Of course, take your time." Her face was full of worry now.
I couldn't force a smile. I turned and walked toward the hallway on legs that felt like jello.
Barney filled the doorway. "Ayla, what happened? What did she —"
I passed him, and a window at the end of the hall was open, with night air pouring through. I swung my leg over the sill.
"What are you doing?" He tried to grab my sleeve, but he missed. I jumped out the window, hit the alley stones in a crouch, and ran.
All I could think of was "fuck." It kept repeating in my head. I tore through the market square, past the shuttered stalls and the dark fountain. My mind was overwhelmed with a myriad of interconnected thoughts racing through it. They collided with each other, getting louder and more distorted with each impact. A couch. A screen. Words that I had read a thousand times in a life that I had forgotten until now. The voice next to me calling them stupid.
I hit the forest trail at full speed, and the branches caught my sleeves, snapping them. The tower rose up between the trees, black against the stars. I ran harder. The front door was sealed. I slammed both palms against it, and the impact jolted through my arms. "Open up! Open the door!"
The barrier of the tower's gate struck me with force, causing an invisible wall to push me backwards. I lost my footing and landed hard on the ground. I got up and charged at the door once more. The barrier propelled me back, and I landed on the ground again, tasting blood. Despite it, I got up and tried once more.
The door cracked on the fifth attempt. It split down the middle with a sound like snapping bones, and I fell through onto the stone floor inside. I found the stairs and climbed them three steps at a time, my lungs burning, my legs screaming. The floor was dark and empty. It was the same silent landings and sealed doors that I'd sprinted past a hundred times before.
I reached the 100th floor and the door was already open. I burst through it, drenched in sweat, blood on my palms from the barrier. The throne room stretched out ahead. It was cavernous and dim, and from the far end, on the throne, the demon queen looked up.
Her eyes were red and puffy, as if she had been crying for a long time. Her expression instantly changed to anger when she saw me. "What are you doing here? I thought you said we were done. I thought you were finished making a fool out of me." She stood up from the throne and pointed at the door. "Get out. I mean it this time, get out of my —"
"Lily."
She stopped halfway through a step. Her mouth hung open.
Despite my shaking, bleeding, and inability to breathe, none of that mattered. As I stared at her face, I experienced a sudden wave of remembrance. Her name, my own, the apartment, the car all came back to me in a moment, like a dam bursting open.
"Lily, what the fuck is going on?"