The Heirs of Chrior Trilogy.

The Queen's Choice.

Cayla Kluver.

This book is dedicated to Grandma Bev and Grandpa Noel, whose support has made so many impossible things possible.

CHAPTER ONE.

PREDICTION.

I stood at the end of the Road, feeling the frigid breeze and watching the leaves rustle in their dizzying patterns. I had a jerkin and cloak to keep me warm, a long-knife to protect me, but I knew how many souls haunted this place, and it was impossible to feel at ease.

The path and trees were white with snow, but in my mind I saw them red with soldiers' blood. It ran down the trunks like sap and flooded the walk. There was a legacy burned into the core of this place, and the passage of years could not see it forgotten. Fae and human alike were reluctant to set foot here.

It was not my first time traversing the Bloody Road, the site of the historic battle between human and Fae, so some of its mystique was lost on me. But as my legs were stroked by the hands of the lonely and the angry, of those who could not leave this place, a chill seeped into the marrow of my bones. I walked on, passing into the Realm of my people, for though the lonely and the angry of this Road had taken many, they could not capture me. The power of the elements that ran in my blood spared me.

Despite my long journey, my exhaustion fell away once the city came into view. The human world, though fascinating, could be wearying, whereas Chrior, the ancient cradle of Fae magic, was rejuvenating. Nothing had been destroyed to make these homes possible; centuries ago, when the Faerie race had been even closer to the elements, the trees had been manipulated by Earth Fae, the ground had been raised and dropped where necessary, and a city had been constructed while the forest had been allowed to go on living.

Snow shimmered around me, falling and filling my footprints. I dropped my magical shroud and unfolded my membrane wings, which glinted green, gold, and ice-blue like oil in sunlight. Hovering skyward, I let the thin cold air of winter test them as I flew to the Great Redwood, which had long ago parted its trunk for the royal Fae who protected and inhabited it, calling themselves the Redwood Fae. The ancient tree's orangey bark was coated with icicles, but I felt warmth radiating from inside. I ran my fingers over the love-carvings that surrounded the entrance-artistic tributes left by Fae, tiny designs across the surface of a bark that ran deep-and contentment filled my soul. It was good to see the world. It was better to come home.

Far beneath me, on the ground inside the Redwood, the Queen's Court was in session. Revelers with wings in myriad colors feasted and danced, their laughter, music, and conversation bouncing joyously around me.

On her throne of twined roots, Queen Ubiqua presided, and on both sides she was joined by her closest followers: my father, Cyandro, who served as her Lord of the Law; the eight members of her Council, among them my grandfather, the former reigning Prince; and Davic, the young man to whom I had entrusted my heart. Three chairs in addition to my own stood empty, but one most glaringly-the throne that belonged to Ubiqua's husband, who had never occupied it before his death.

I straightened my jerkin and handed my cloak and pack to a member of the royal guard, who would see that they were sent to my quarters. Then I hastened downward, following the spiraling ridge that ran along the inner walls of the tree until at last I came to the floor.

Almost immediately after I pressed into the midst of the Court-a jostling body of heat and fresh-spiced winter scents-arms were flung around my waist from behind, nearly knocking me into another Fae. I craned my head around and saw exactly who I expected to find embracing me. My best friend Ione, her blond waves adorably woven through a headband of scarlet berries, had playfully ambushed me.

"I was hoping you'd be back tonight," she exclaimed, beaming in her modest way. "The entire Court was. May the Queen's reign flourish!"

The cry was echoed by the Faefolk who now surrounded me, and I managed to return Ione's hug before shouts of "Sale!" floated from the crowd. A bark mug was thrust at me, and I happily accepted the drink that ran from our trees and nourished the Faerie kind more powerfully than any food.

Once I'd finished sharing greetings and toasts, I abandoned my empty goblet and approached the Queen. A long queue, monitored by the Queen's Blades in their bedazzling tunics, led to her throne of gnarled and ancient roots. My aunt smiled, kind and patient, as every member of her Court endured the procession to greet her and extend their respects. I drew up beside the line and walked its length, nodding to the Blades I passed.

The Queen's face lit up when I drew near, and I fell to one knee, placing my forefinger upon her earthen perch. When I removed it, a droplet of dew was left in its place among hundreds of others frozen there in her honor, for tonight marked the twenty-fifth anniversary of my aunt's coronation. The droplets were gifts from Water Fae, sparkling amidst leaves and berries from Earth Fae, glowing embers like rubies from Fire Fae, and clearest crystals filled with whispers of fog and cloud from Air Fae. The elemental offerings would dissipate within the week, allowing room for the city's general public and not just the Queen's Court to pay tribute to her.

"Anya! How was your journey?" Queen Ubiqua effused, leaning forward to be heard above the revelry. Having her gaze upon me, as always, was like meeting Time-there was something incomprehensible about her, something infinite. She didn't suffer the same worries I did because her wisdom transcended them.

"Enlightening," I replied, rising, but I could not keep my eyes from drifting toward Davic. It was proper to acknowledge the Queen before the others around her, but it was he who was foremost on my mind. His gray-blue eyes muted the bedlam in the trunk, drawing me in as though nothing existed beyond the landscape of his elegant jaw, the black hair pulled into a ponytail at the nape of his neck, and the parting of his lips, an aphrodisiac in itself. He grinned at me, gripping the arms of his chair like he might propel himself upward at any moment and fly to my side.

"Go to him," Ubiqua laughed, tipping her head in Davic's direction, aware that she no longer held my attention. "You and I can talk later."

In need of no convincing, I hurried to my promised. He'd come to his feet, and he snatched the hand I extended to haul me onto the dais and into his arms. I laughed, wrapping my legs around his waist when he picked me up and holding his face for a lengthy kiss that was continually disrupted by our smiles.

"I almost forgot what you looked like," he teased, pushing our foreheads together. Our pose, somewhat unseemly for a royal and her partner, nevertheless charmed the assembly and drew a few shouts. We both turned scarlet and hid our faces in each other's shoulders, then Davic returned to his seat, taking me with him.

"I missed you, too," I murmured, settling against him and twining our fingers together. Soon I felt the heat of someone's gaze; I turned and exchanged a warm nod with my father, then took his hint that I should move to my own chair. I kept Davic's palm snug against mine while I scanned the empty seats, making note of who else was missing-Zabriel, the long absent Prince of Chrior; and my cousin Illumina, the orphaned daughter of Queen Ubiqua's brother.

Leaning close to Davic, I asked, "Where is Illumina?"

Though I could have guessed his answer from his resigned look, I waited for him to confirm it.

"She only stayed for an hour, maybe less. At least she was here for a while. Let's not dwell on her tonight."

I nodded, for Illumina's lack of participation was not unexpected. Quiet, studious and easily overshadowed, she avoided crowds to whatever extent possible. Still, I would have liked for her to be here. Not only was she a niece of the Queen, she was also heir to the throne due to the Prince's defection, and learning to connect with the people was an important part of her future.

Davic and I did not have much opportunity to talk during the festivities, and we were glad when Ubiqua called her Court to a close and we could fly to the branches of the Great Redwood where I made my home. Davic also had an alcove in the mighty tree, though his family had no interest in Court life and lived far on the other side of Chrior. There was only one section of the Redwood that was unoccupied, a place where the branches were dry and dead and could hold little weight. The destruction was viewed as a tragedy and rarely discussed, but from what I understood, a fire had defiled our people's ancient refuge.

My residence was a small place, but practical. Davic walked the perimeter of the main room, focusing on the energy inside himself as he ran his finger along the love-carved indentation to spark and ignite it. Finished, he fell onto the sofa, putting his hands behind his head. The house warmed at once, and I curled up beside him, breathing in his familiar scent, musky with an undercurrent of Tanya flowers, which only grew on this side of the Road. The whole evening I hadn't given a thought to how truly tired I was, but now I relaxed, the heaviness in my limbs a reminder of how little I had slept the past few days.

"Well?" Davic asked after a bit. "How was the human world this time?"

"I made it to Tairmor before you called me back," I replied, offering him a smirk. "You're impatient, Davic."

He brushed my auburn hair behind my shoulder and kissed my forehead. "How long would you have been gone if I hadn't called you?"

"I wanted to see Sheness, the port city. A few more weeks."

His countenance grew wary, lips pursing and eyes slightly widening. He was the worrier of the two of us, and his expression was endearing in its predictability.

"Anya, your father has warned against Fae traveling that far west. He says there's been a resurgence of piracy over the past year."

"I'm aware of my father's warnings." I gave his hair a playful tug, making it difficult for a scowl to emerge. "But pirates surely don't lurk around every corner in Sheness, waiting to attack. They have their business, and I would have had mine. I do know what I'm doing out there. Anyway, it doesn't matter now. I didn't go near the port."

"You're not invincible, you know." He was looking at me sideways, not yet pacified. This was a variance we'd had before-he meant well, but he had a hard time trusting anything if it was beyond Chrior's borders, including me.

I chuckled. "Of course I'm not invincible, but Fae are more powerful than humans, and we have our elements to protect us. Anyone who tried to hurt me would be swept away by a wall of water before they could blink, while I flew away to the rooftops." My point stood even though that wasn't exactly how Fae connections worked. We had to rely on physically present matter that we could move and manipulate rather than conjuring our elements, but for me that matter could include blood and mist as easily as rain or river water, leaving me with a lot of power at my disposal. "Try not to be such a killjoy when everything is, at present, perfect."

He rolled his eyes, but I felt his body relax against mine. I plucked at the fabric of his shirt, nervous about the confession I was about to make. "I was a little worried, though, that something might be wrong when I felt your call."

Davic and I had been promised by a mage, the same mage who had wed my aunt and her husband, and the aura that bound us let us reach out to one another no matter how far apart we were. I'd felt the tug from Davic in Tairmor, the capital of the Warckum Territory, and had started home at once.

He chewed his lip, looking adorable as he made a bid for clemency. "Are you annoyed? I was thinking about you, and next I knew I'd signaled you before I'd even decided whether or not I should. If you're upset with me, I'll say I'm sorry it happened. Really."

"Aww, you'd say whatever I'd like to hear to save your own hide? You're so sweet." I shoved him, not upset in the least. Our bond was still fresh, and it would take time to adapt to its intricacies.

He let out a relieved breath, then played with my hair. His thoughts traveled over his face in what he believed to be a private course, though his ultimate expression told me he had landed on the matter I'd hoped he'd leave alone until the morning at least.

"Do you ever get homesick out there? I mean, you stay away for so long. I just wonder if...you don't like coming back."

Without fail, this conversation followed my returns and preceded my departures. Unlike me, Davic was content in Chrior, with no interest in journeying. He hadn't even been on his Crossing, the traditional rite of passage for young Fae. Following my Crossing, I'd developed a taste for the human world, a wanderlust that not even my promised's pleading could overcome, and certainly one that he had trouble understanding.

"The fact that I enjoy being in the Territory doesn't mean I don't enjoy being here."

"You spend more time in the human world than you do here." Preempting my response, he added, "I'm not trying to stop you from traveling, but it seems to me that spending time with me and your friends, with your father, is something you just tolerate until you can leave again."

Why couldn't we have a pleasurable reunion and leave it at that?

"It's not being away from you I enjoy, Davic. It's seeing what's out there, what's different about how the humans live. How the politics move and shift." I frowned, lost in thought. "For instance, there's something different about the mood in the Territory right now. I don't know what exactly, but I was seeing more Constabularies and military units. Maybe the Governor is just cracking down on crime. If he keeps it up, my father won't have much to warn about in a few months."

Governor Ivanova, elected conservator and custodian of the Warckum Territory, was known for the strict and swift enforcement of his laws. He was also known as King Ivanova by his detractors, because the governorship had been in his family for so long it was practically an inherited position, with no sign of change on the horizon.

"Then perhaps you should wait for the all-clear before you head out again. All right?" He kissed my forehead, then sought my eyes. At my grudging nod, a tease at last entered his voice. "You know, it sounds like I called you out of potential danger. Doesn't that mean I deserve a thank-you?"

"No, it means you're off the hook for cutting my trip short," I laughed, and he rolled over, trapping me beneath him.

"In that case, I should probably tell you that I didn't do it for me. The Queen asked when you'd be back and seemed disappointed in my answer. She didn't actually tell me to interrupt your travels, but it was clear that was what she wanted."

I pushed myself up on my elbows, Davic scrambling back to accommodate my sudden movement.

"Why?"

"She didn't tell me that."

"It must be urgent." My heart was thumping a little faster as I tried to imagine what could have led Ubiqua to summon me.

Davic shrugged. "I doubt it. She didn't try to talk to you at Court tonight."

"I should still go to her. At once."

Davic's brows shot upward, and he bent closer again.

"Or you could wait." He pressed his lips lightly to my neck, and, against my better judgment, I allowed my mind to cloud with the sensation, slipped my hands into his hair and slid back underneath him, indisposed to argue.

Davic and I slept in longer than we-or rather I-intended. Though he awoke when I rose and we spoke briefly, he was asleep again by the time I left, laying there still dressed from the night before. There was something about him that was angelic. Yes, he frustrated me when our differences came head-to-head, but my trust in him ran deep. He was solid and predictable, like a form of gravity. He would never hurt me, and his arms would always hold me whether my behavior was rational or nonsensical.

In the light of a new day, the snowfall had stopped, and everything was bright and glistening. Though it was cold, the air was crisp and fresh, not like in the human world where the people destroyed and polluted in the conduct of their lives. Many Fae feared that same pollution would seep like a dark fog across our borders and ruin our way of life. I figured if it came to that, it wouldn't be right to blame those who lived in the Territory; instead, the fault would be ours. The only chance for the humans to befriend Nature rather than dominate it was through us and our elemental connections, and we'd locked their race out of our Realm. They had to survive somehow. That was what Illumina and the others who were part of the Anti-Unification League overlooked: the humans' right to live.

I flew to the palm-the large knot that made a landing pad before the Great Redwood's main entrance-then hovered up to my aunt's private dwelling. I waved to the guards on the ridge, making sure they recognized me before I softly dropped to my feet.

Like closely stitched netting, thick green vines composed the floor of this part of the tree. To most looking up, this netting was the ceiling since no one passed beyond it without invitation. I took delicate steps, for the vines had give to them; despite our gift for flight, uncontrolled falls could be as deadly for Fae as for humans. Still, I knew the netting could hold more weight than it appeared; resiliency was strength, not weakness.

The Queen's companions were sitting around her throne, which was set back and framed by tied-away willow and lavender-leaf curtains. Catching sight of me, Ubiqua dismissed her Court, her smile and voice gentle. The last to rise was Illumina, her long black hair limp and sallowing her face. Still, her features were delicate, and her eyes, green like mine, were cheerless but sharp. She looked me up and down on her way by, and I had the feeling she was searching for changes in me since I'd been gone.

When the Queen and I were alone, Ubiqua motioned me closer, and I sat at her feet where her entourage had been. Silence hung between us, and I began to worry something was seriously wrong. Though decorum suggested I should wait for her to speak, I took the initiative and opened the conversation.

"Davic told me you were the one who wanted me to come home."

"I asked Davic not to make that known. I thought he might hold out longer than this."

We both knew my promised well enough to laugh softly at her remark. Davic had never kept secrets from me.

"I hope he didn't alarm you," Ubiqua went on, the blue of her eyes mesmerizing, like a calming tonic. "That wasn't my intention."

I searched her face for some clue to where this conversation might be going. "Aunt, if there's no cause for alarm, why am I here?"

"Because there is something I must tell you, and under the circumstances, sooner is better than later."

She smiled, although a deeper emotion seemed to be roiling within her. Her silver hair was loose in wispy curls, though here and there were braids-she treated the children of the Court like her own, and allowed them to play with her long locks. On such a glorious day, what could be troubling her?

"This Great Redwood I call my home has been alive much longer than I have, Anya, and it will outlive me by millenniums. We are friends. I talk to it, and at times it whispers back to me. And in its great wisdom, it has whispered that the end of my life is approaching."

"What?" Her statement rolled over my skin like a shock wave. I studied her in a daze-yes, she was aged, but her skin glowed like a young girl's, and her mind had lost none of its brilliance. There was no indication of illness about her.

"But that-that can't be right," I stammered. "You can't be dying."

"No, no, I'm not dying." Ubiqua placed a comforting hand on my shoulder, where it settled without discernible weight. "Not now. For now, I have all the strength in the world. But soon it will forsake me, and there must be someone to whom I can entrust my legacy. Do you understand?"

"Yes, of course. You know I'll help Illumina in whatever way I can."

The Prince's defection from the Realm had transferred the line of succession to the lineage of the Queen's eldest sibling, Illumina's father, making Illumina next in line to the throne. But knowing this didn't negate my reservations about my younger cousin. I hesitated, wondering if I should speak my mind. While I expected Ubiqua would take my opinions in stride, it was nevertheless perfidious of me to raise them.

"I'm sorry, Aunt, but I...I don't think she's ready for this. She needs more time. She doesn't yet appreciate the value of peace with the humans."

To my surprise, no rebuke was forthcoming.

"I agree with you and am glad our thoughts align. Illumina will not succeed me." My aunt settled farther back on her throne, letting her words resonate between us, their meaning well within my grasp had I been disposed to embrace it. "I speak of an heir of my choosing and not just my bloodline. Someone who will honor my legacy and not pervert it. Someone who will finish the work I have begun, and bring humans and Fae together."

The Queen brought her blue eyes to bear on me, full of conviction and faith, and I was seized by an urge to run, not wanting to hear her next declaration.

"Will you accept this responsibility, Anya? This honor? Will you continue along the path I have set even after my death, just as you have followed in my footsteps during life?"

It was hard to hear her over the pounding of blood in my ears. Thanks to the order of my mother's birth, I had been allowed to live a privileged life without the real responsibility of being royalty, but that was about to come to a clamorous halt. It was true I had struggled in the aftermath of Zabriel's departure to accept the fact that, despite her idiosyncrasies, Illumina would be next to wear the Laura, the crown of laurels. But though the idea of her ruling had made me nervous, it had also been a relief. It meant no demands were placed on my future. Now the air around me felt charged with expectation, and my stomach burned as I felt the course of my life changing.

Coming to my feet, I crossed the room, as though that would permit me to escape the question. When I neared the edge of the netting, I paused, looking down at the spiraling ridge, my thoughts likewise twisting and turning in silent debate. I was sixteen, only two years older than Illumina, and not much better equipped than she to ascend the throne.

And what of my travels? Despite what Davic believed, I didn't just enter the Territory in search of adventure; my crossings were of assistance to my father, sojourns to gather information about human activities. But a queen couldn't be gone for months at a time. I would have to stay, and sit, and watch, and listen, always the voice of wisdom and the hand of equanimity. I would be domesticated...trapped in this city, charged with the responsibility of guiding an entire people to happiness regardless of my own.

Then there was, Nature forbid, the prospect of another war. I did not want to be accountable for deaths before I was even old enough to bring life into the world. No, the Laura would not fit me as it did my aunt.

"How soon?" I asked hoarsely, forcing myself to look into the Queen's face. "When are you supposed to die? Can we stop it?"

"That doesn't matter," she responded, her eyes boring into me, uncovering my fears, their roots, and how deeply they coiled. But she persisted, for she put her people and her Realm before all else. "I believe the Redwood's prediction, but whether you choose to or not will make no difference in the end. I will die one day, and when that day comes, I have to know that someone...someone with a strong and pure heart will be stepping up to rule in my place."

"What makes you sure I have a strong and pure heart?" I put a hand against the Redwood's wall and tightened my fingers, its heartwood sliding under my nails. "I understand your reservations about Illumina-I have them, too-but Aunt, I want my life."

Though I felt childish saying these things, her eyes were sympathetic, and she reached out to me, summoning me to her side.