Chapter Twenty, in which Skeena deals with her injuries

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"Skeena," a squeaky voice said.

A flicker of light shot across Skeena's consciousness. Surprised she attempted to sit up, but was met by an overwhelming blast of pain. She hissed aggressively in an attempt to stifle the screech of pain she so desperately wanted to make. Why did she feel so bad?

"Skeena, you have to wake up," said the squeak. "The Queen is dead,"

The words entered Skeena's barely conscious mind, and to some extent she understood, despite her overwhelming feeling that she was dying. "I—, I have to see, I have to fix it," she mumbled. After inhaling, slowly and painfully, she opened her eyes to see a white ceiling above her. Just then a tiny, angular face loomed into her field of vision. It was her imp. The imp reached forward and poked Skeena between the eyes with a tiny finger.

A wave of rationality swept across Skeena's mind. She was in Aranthopolis, having flown back from Everwinter with Tamara, Yago, and Kelvin, no, not Kelvin. And she had taken a hit, in the confusion, escaping. That's why her whole body hurt so badly.

With great exertion, Skeena lifted her head and looked down at her body. She was lying in a cot, in a painted white room. Thankfully her boots and trousers (and all the corresponding weapons) were still on, but her shirt and cloak were gone, replaced by a baggy light brown shirt, the kind healers kept around for their patients. Therefore, she must be in a healer's shop. That was probably good.

Skeena lifted up the shirt to inspect her wounded side. It did not look good. There were some healing herbs shoved in and around the long and deep gash between her lower ribs on her right side. It was clearly infected, and stunk slightly. Skeena sighed, and the motion of her diaphragm felt like being stabbed anew.

"Skeena, the Queen is dead," came the Imp's voice again.

Finally, the gravity of this information hit Skeena like a ton of bricks. "No, no she can't be! Who did it? An assassin? I should have been there! I should have caught him. You should have told me someone was planning to assassinate the Queen!"

"I didn't tell you cause I didn't know, until it happened," squeaked the Imp, a bit of sincere concern in its voice for once. "It was Yago Elldown."

"That son of a—" Skeena shouted, and tried to jump up and grab her dagger, but was met with another blast of pain. She clenched her teeth in frustration.

Just then, she heard a knocking on the door. "Come in," she groaned.

Prince Nikolai strode into the room, backlit by the light in the hallway. He kneeled down by Skeena's bed. "How are you doing, spymaster?"

Skeena groaned.

"I'm glad to hear it," Nikolai, "because I am not doing quite so well. You see, my mother was just murdered, and my ice-hearted aunt has unjustly seized power."

Skeena narrowed her eyes. She didn't like where this was going.

"He's planning to seize power back from Rosanna," came the Imp's quiet squeak.

"Judging by your expression, and your reputation for knowing things you shouldn't, I would guess that you know what I'm planning," said Nikolai.

"He's working with the city merchants to buy off the city guard and the Icicle Arrows, and he's hiring sellswords and mercenaries to fight the Flaming Swords, who will almost certainly stay loyal to Rosanna," squeaked the Imp in one, long, hurried breath.

Skeena shook her head. She was hurting too much. This was too much to think about.

"As I'm sure you are aware," Nikolai continued, "my plan requires a good bit of secrecy, so, spymaster, I need to be confident that you will not be sharing my plans with my aunt Rosanna."

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