The Queen of Blood

Ch 26: Gutted

Grillians town has life breathed into it again. Squat, adobe houses sit peppered among fields of green. People mill about, pointing excitedly at the treasures in their new homes— a bed, a bath, a toilet.

I sit on the cool stone floor in front of my mother now, leaning against the wall with my legs sprawled out in front of me. Royal guards had delivered crates full of fruits, linens, and weapons. I turn my head slightly towards the window, letting a small smile slip over my lips at the sounds outside.

People were... happy. I would define it as a cautious celebration. Kids were chasing after each other in the cobblestone streets, brandishing makeshift stick swords while their parents watched from a few steps behind.

Luke stands in the doorway of my family's new home, turning a silver dagger over in his hands, marveling at its glint when the light bounced off it just right. Celestia had come through on her promise of ample weaponry. My people now had more swords and daggers than we had hands to carry, a heap of the stuff still sat outside in the square. I suspect Cole and my father were still outside directing others and sorting through it.

I glance out the window. People didn't feel totally safe, not yet. I expect it'd take years before the fear was totally forgotten. But there was hope now, and that was more than we'd had in a while.

"So are we gonna get the whole story?" Luke asks, his eyebrows raised. "Like how my sister was captured by Arabeth's most lethal bloodsucker and instead of dying like a normal person somehow managed to get us all here?"

"Luke," my mother shoots him a warning glare.

He holds his hands up in defense. "Right, right, no pressure or anything, I'm sure there's trauma and all that crap." He squats down to meet me at floor level. "But like for real Ella, how?"

My mother swats him with her rag.

I laugh, "the real question is what the hell happened to you guys after I was gone?"

My mother's eyes drop to the floor and I regret the question almost immediately, the mood instantly falling somber.

"Well you were dead, or at least we hoped you were dead, we had a funeral for you and everything."

I follow his lead trying to lighten the mood, "and you cried the hardest, right? Isn't that a little brother duty?"

He gives me a hard shove, his smile bright, "shut the fuck up, I'm taller than you now."

"Your crate is here," Tyson, a boy a few years younger than Luke, pokes his head in the door, "Ella it looks like you got extra arrows."

"Oh hell yeah." Luke and I bounce outside, and sure enough a large wooden crate sits on our doorstep, a perfectly arched bow and quiver of silver arrows resting on top. I look down the block. Every family is mirroring my own, excitedly prying open their own box of supplies from the Queen.

"Here, you grab the other end, let's lift it inside." I sling the bow over my shoulder and we shuffle our way back through the doorway.

Immediately Luke is ecstatically sifting through it all, holding a slick, black rectangle up to his eye to examine. He presses a button and sharp blades spring out of either end, scarcely missing his face.

"Alpha's bait Luke, be mindful." My mother shakes her head but Luke just laughs.

"This is so fucking cool it's unreal." He continues unpacking with a goofy grin plastered to his face. Blankets, seeds, bushels of apples, everything we could need and more piles onto the floor as he delves deeper.