Great Sinner Queen [Death and the Maiden, #2]

Chapter Three: Horses of Fire

Indifference.

Hadrian stares coolly at us. Then, in one motion, he turns to Clae beside him and murmurs something. The girl rushes to obey his command, and summons a number of souls to relay the message. In a matter of seconds, a new group appear, leading forward what Hadrian must have ridden here on: a beautiful horse of deep midnight blue, its hooves flickering with flame and its eyes pools of red light. 

At my side, I hear Quillan breathe out. 'Hellhorse.'

The King approaches his mount, and I swear he smiles. The Hellhorse ceases to struggle against the poor souls leading it, and willingly approaches Hadrian. 

'They're really rare,' Quillan says in a low voice, 'and what's rarer is that one has been tamed. Hellhorses are majestic creatures. The souls of animals are purer than humans' and they do not require judgement, but often an animal befriends a human so wholly that they follow them to the Afterlife. The Hellhorse once loved its human so fiercely that it now guards the gates.'

As the Hellhorse bends its fiery head towards Hadrian, I can see the affection in the gesture. The flames do not hurt my husband; he strokes the flaming mane with ease. Then, he mounts the Hellhorse, and for a moment, my eyes widen.

He looks like a true king of the Underworld.

His dark hair flutters down across his face, and his face is tight, icy eyes cold. The Hellhorse rears, and the way he balances is like he's going off to fight in battle, expertly one with his stallion. His clothes are black, his hair is black, his horse is black-- everything crowns him the King of Darkness as the light dims in this strange crossroads of Life and Death. Surrounding him, the Souls that gave up their Afterlife to serve him are his army, watching with awe as he moves with the Hellhorse.

For a second, his eyes flicker to me. They're so cold, colder than the day we met, when I was angry and freshly drowned, and he was just a rogue I met on the journey. There's no smile. No hint of the kisses we'd shared, no laughter remaining. Even when I'd pushed him to his limits, he'd never been this distant.

What have I done?

The Hellhorse moves so quickly that the King leaves us in the dust, and we watch his shadow fade into the streets. 

I swallow, throat dry and my body uncomfortable. 

Quillan says, 'Does he always act like that?'

My voice is strangely quiet as I reply.

'Never.'

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The night has come when we return, much more slowly than Hadrian. The gates are open for us, and the guards salute my entrance. Swinging from Cerberus' back, I thank the dog and look around for how I'm going to get rid of Quillan.

He talked. Endlessly. 

Maybe he sensed my discomfort on the ride back, but didn't take the hint of terse answers. In any case, I need to be alone right now, and Quillan seems determined to latch onto me. 

So, for the first time in my meagre Not-Quite-Alive life, I am overjoyed to see Jefferson.

The old man is always enthusiastic.

'My Queen! We were all so worried! Please inform us when you next go to visit Master Nathaniel!'

I smile as sincerely as I can manage-- it's a strain, but it must be passable, because Quillan still leaps forward to introduce himself.

'My name is Quillan Leck, and I'm here as an Emissary of the Spring Court,' the beautiful boy reaches for Jefferson's hand. 

I edge away, waiting for the moment.