The Warrior Queen: Book Three of the Warrior Midwife Trilogy, page 1
THE WARRIOR QUEEN
BOOK THREE OF THE WARRIOR MIDWIFE TRILOGY
E.P. BALI
BLUE MOON RISING PUBLISHING
The Warrior Queen is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, incidents and locations are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locations or persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2022 by E. P. Bali
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This first edition published in 2022 by
Blue Moon Rising Publishing
www.ektaabali.com
ISBN ebook: 978-0-6454650-0-6
Paperback: 978-0-6454650-1-3
Hardcover: 978-0-6454650-2-0
Paperback (Pastel Edition): 978-0-6454650-7-5
Hardcover (Pastel Edition): 978-0-6454650-8-2
Illustrated Cover design by Carly Diep
Hardcover Case by Jessica Lowdell
Maps by Najlakay
Chapter Header by Jessica Lowdell
Book Formatting by E.P. Bali with Vellum
The author acknowledges the Traditional Custodians of the land where this book was written. We acknowledge their connections to land, sea and community. We pay our respects to their Elders past and present and extend that respect to all Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Peoples today.
A NOTE ON THE CONTENT
I care about the mental health of my readers.
This book contains some themes you might want to know about before you read.
They are listed at www.ektaabali.com/themes
Please note this novel contains mature themes and is best suited to audiences ages 18+
This novel is an ode to feminine rage.
May our voices be heard, may our feet tread steady, may our swords always be sharp.
CONTENTS
1. Saraya
2. Drake
3. Saraya
4. Saraya
5. Agatha
6. Saraya
7. Saraya
8. Drake
9. Saraya
10. Saraya
11. Saraya
12. Saraya
13. Drake
14. Saraya
15. Saraya
16. Drake
17. Saraya
18. Saraya
19. Jerali Jones
20. Saraya
21. Saraya
22. Drake
23. Saraya
24. Drake
25. Saraya
26. Drake
27. Saraya
28. Drake
29. Saraya
30. Saraya
31. Drake
32. Saraya
33. Drake
34. Saraya
35. Saraya
36. Saraya
37. Drake
38. Saraya
39. Drake
40. Saraya
41. Drake
42. Saraya
43. Saraya
Epilogue: Saraya
Epilogue: Drake
THE ARCHER PRINCESS
Chapter One: Altara
Afterword
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by E.P. Bali
1
SARAYA
The first thing I knew was a torturous burning pain right through my core.
A low, constant vibration rumbled through my back and it took me a moment to realise I was lying down on something that was moving. I blinked up at a leafy green canopy—a sheet stitched out of leaves that shielded me from a bright sun set in a cornflower blue sky. I was enveloped in humid warmth that was at once fresh and comforting, the scent of mint and grass filling my nose.
I knew at once that I was not in either the Human Realm nor the Dark Fae Realm.
I bent my knees and a new onslaught of pain sliced through me, making a gasp escape my throat. Immediately, I made to magically scan my body to detect the problem. But as I turned my consciousness inward, I came up against a wall of empty darkness and it felt just like it had when I’d been forced to wear the demonic magic-stopping shackles. I felt my wrists on reflex and found of course, that I was not wearing any demonic shackles. Agatha’s voice swam into my mind. “You’ve made the midwives lazy.” Imagining my old midwife mentor’s finger jabbing at me, I took a deep breath.
I’d have to do it the old fashioned way. Trying to stop the rising panic, I did a physical scan instead. My shoes had been removed, but I felt some old, healing blisters on my feet, not a huge concern. My calves and knees were raw where the skin had been grazed, but that too was nothing major. I palpated my thighs and pelvis with my fingers. They were all intact, only bruised, but—oh no.
Buried within my torso was a relentless, deep-rooted burn. My hand flew to my stomach, the midwife in me immediately taking over, palpating each quadrant of my abdomen. The skin itself was fine, and as I made my way around my organs, I ticked each one of them off my list. The pain was unlikely to be my appendix or spleen or liver. Nor my bowel or uterus, which was definitely not pregnant from the last time I’d slept with Drake, I had made precautions for that—
Drake.
An involuntary sob tore from my throat, and my hand flew from my stomach to my mouth. I raised my right arm. My magical black mating mark was gone. My skin was bare of the magically inked twisted tree, leaving smooth brown skin behind. Any evidence that Drake had been my mate had vanished… for good.
I was not prepared for this pain. My heart felt like it was being sliced into two by a jagged blade, a vice was around my throat, restricting my air flow. The splitting pain in my chest threatened to overwhelm me and all I could do was keep breathing—to focus on the sole act of pulling air into my lungs. This couldn’t be happening. This could not be happening to me. Not here, not now.
There would be a permanent mark on my soul that was the sight of Drake’s face when I had uttered those heinous words:
I reject you as my mate.
The Black Court battle had been devastating before the colossal-sized fire wraiths had arrived, and Drake had single-handedly fought them. I had done it for his own good. For our own good. He needed to be strong if he was going to survive that fall into the chasm created by the falling wraith.
Survival. That’s what this was.
Why did it have to hurt so much?
It wasn’t until the vehicle I was on jolted on even ground that I came back to reality. I was not this person. Not the type of woman who fell down at the first difficulty. I needed to find out where I was and what happened to my magic. With a concentrated effort, I put up a dam against the flood of grief and raw pain that was Drake’s face as he hung from his fingers on the edge of that chasm.
What had happened on the battlefield after Drake had fallen into that endless chasm? Magic had torn through me. Wild, as if a dam had been unleashed. Lightning upon lightning had fallen and I had directed it to kill our enemies in battle. I had never used that amount of magic before. I ran my hand over my stomach once again as a dull realisation crawled through me. This pain was not physical in origin at all, but magical. I was magically drained and the last time this had happened to me…was not a time I liked to think about. That memory was something I’d shoved deep inside my being until I couldn’t feel it anymore.
Because it had been the first time Glacine had stolen me away into her room to whip me. I don’t even remember the actual event, I just recall that afterwards, it took my magic days to return. Every time Glacine whipped me I fell down into that well and every time I crawled back out I got better at it. It just felt like I left a little piece of me down there.
I blinked away the burn in my eyes. Now that I knew what was wrong with me, I needed to understand what was happening around me. I could see that I was on a small, open-fronted wagon. A horse was hitched to it and trudging along just ahead. I squinted at the figure leading the horse. The world was so bright and warm out there that it felt like the beginning of summer. Only it couldn’t be—we were supposed to be in the latter half of winter now.
Muttered voices sounded outside the wagon.
“Hello?” I called. My voice emerged hoarse. I had been screaming, I recalled, back when my magic had torn free.
There was a shout and the patter of boots. Abruptly, the wagon stopped.
The first face I saw was pale, baby blue-eyed and raven-haired.
“Blythe?” I choked, scrambling onto my knees with a wince.
“Goddess!” Blythe squealed, immediately climbing into the wagon and lunging for me. I suppressed a groan as my aching bones took the weight of my blubbering friend. “Saraya, it was terrifying, but I’m an even better fighter now and it was all a mess, and then we saw you go all lightning crazy, and Slade and I and Jerali—"
“Slow down,” I wheezed, rubbing her back. “Where—"
“Get off her, Blythe,” came a low voice. “You’ll strangle our queen and then I’ll have to hang you for regicide.”
I choked once again as Blythe got off me. Jerali Jones climbed up to sit on the edge of the wagon, narrow face grinning. Relief flooded through me, and I reached for my Armsmaster’s hand. Jerali grasped it in return. They were alive and well. I was not alone.
Behind my Armsmaster, Lysander and Slade appeared. Slade, a brawny fae warrior with raven dark hair and eyes, and Lysander, the complete opposite, fair with long blond hair and blue eyes. Both fae warriors bore grim expressions on their handsome faces. They’d seen everything from a distance, I vaguely recalled, and had not been able to help Drake either.
Lysander tossed his blond mane and wiggled his fingers at me in greeting. “Welcome to the Solar Fae Realm, Princess.” He gestured to the impossibly green trees on either side of the gravel road. “The Black Court portal took us into Blossom Court, but Sky Court is only a day’s ride away.”
I raised my brows.
“They wanted to go back to Kaalon,” Jerali explained, side-eyeing Slade, who glowered and tugged at his shirt collar in an old habit. “But I said that we had to listen to what you were saying as you collapsed.”
I nodded. “Thank you. Did you just call me—"
“She did,” Blythe nodded firmly. “After you collapsed, King Daxian told us your intentions to take the throne of Lobrathia. And gosh, yes, I’m so glad this is the plan because me and Tembry and Delilah—"
“Tell me everything,” I interjected, making to climb out of the wagon. My body felt like crumpled parchment that needed straightening out and without my magic I felt all the more worse. I had also not seen my friends for weeks. “Did you all make it safely to Peach Tree City after the massacre at Havrok’s Court? Drake sent a raven, but we didn’t get a reply.”
Jerali nodded. “I’m sorry about that. We discovered letters were being intercepted by Obsidian Court. We mostly all made it, with some losses. There were more demons at the quarry portal than I’d anticipated, but with Opal’s help, we managed.”
“And Opal?” I had not seen my tiny ball of coloured fluff in weeks as well and the last time we’d been separated, both her legs had been broken.
“She wanted to come, but I bade her to stay with Delilah, and she agreed.”
I knew that Opal took her baby-protecting duties very seriously. “I’m going to take back Quartz with…” With what? My own forces were destroyed by the demons, so my plan to take back Lobrathia from them had depended on Drake being Commander of our neighbour—Kaalon’s forces. But as I thought on it, I had been able to protect Black Court castle with a shield of lightning and had done it easily. I knew I was capable of more. Arishnie had said in the old days, it would’ve only taken seven Warrior Midwives to do it.
But there was only one. It was just me. Would it be enough?
I clenched my fists, remembering the feeling of that electricity teeming under my skin, wanting out, wanting to be used. There was a power in me now that no one else had. That was powerful enough to protect an entire city on its own. I just had to wait and heal. And if we found this sword…Goddess knew what I could do with it.
All I knew was that the rage and sadness in my heart would not be quelled.
I had been betrayed time and time again by those I loved.
First, my mother kept her secrets from me.
Then my father had lied to and sold me like a brood mare to the Fae King.
Then Glacine had come along and hurt and betrayed my entire Kingdom.
Then I had fought tooth and nail to help the fae widow Xenita Darkcleaver, and she too had betrayed us all in the end.
Now I had done the betraying. I betrayed my—Drake. He was not my mate anymore. I had rejected him. I had said the words, thinking that it would make him powerful enough to beat our enemies. But I could not help but get the feeling that we were worse off for it.
Looking at my friends now, they’d changed immensely since I’d last seen them. Blythe had a fierce look in her eyes that was a magnified version of what she’d always had, but there were deep bags under them now. As if she’d seen and done things she had never dreamed of. Jerali’s face was set in a grim, haunted way and there were scars on my Armsmaster’s arms that were new. My heart clenched at what we’d all been through over the last few months at Havrok’s Court and then at the battle.
But everything I did now, I did to get Lobrathia back. We had to fight against the demon occupation of my lands. And the Reaper. My mother had given me an idea as to how to do it.
“I’m going to take back Lobrathia as Queen,” I confirmed. “In the birthing ritual with Xenita Darkcleaver, I saw my mother’s spirit. She told me that Sky Court holds the Temari Blade, Umali’s ancient weapon. I’m going to use it to get our home back.”
They all stared at me with a mixture of wariness and uncertainty marking their faces.
“How?” was all Jerali said.
I looked at my hands, calloused and marked. I could not feel any magic stirring in me, only a burning ache that was making my eyes droop.
Jerali’s face eased into a softness I did not often see. “I’m here with you, Saraya.”
Blythe looked at our Armsmaster in surprise before clenching the hilt of the sword at her hip and nodding firmly. “You will always have us.” She swallowed, glancing back at the two warrior fae. “Mate or not, We are your family. Me and Jerali and Tembry and baby Delilah. Even Slade and Lysander. We are with you. And we will find this blade together.”
I shook my head, breathing in sharply through my nose to stop the tears that threatened to spill. I was tired, so tired. But there was more to be done yet. “What did I do to deserve you guys?”
Blythe flung her arms around my neck as the fae made to start back off again. Jerali threw off the wagon covering and Blythe sat with me, breathing in the fresh air and letting the warmth of the Blossom Court sun soothe my bones.
Ordinarily, I would’ve healed every ailment and injury by now, and it irritated me to no end that I could do nothing. That gaping well of darkness in me was a void I dared not to look at for too long. I just had to have faith that it would come back once I’d rested. I just had to focus on what my mother had told me to do.
How long had I wished that my parents were here to give me advice? To guide me, to simply tell me what to do? And finally, in Xenita’s birthing ordeal, I’d had that opportunity. Few were so lucky to speak with the dead and I would cherish those moments forever. I couldn’t wait to tell Altara when I saw her next.
My stomach twisted. When would I see my sister next? Not before Lobrathia was ours again, I knew that much. It was too dangerous for her to come back—there was a full horde of demons waiting for us there. She was better off in Ellythia away from all of this.
With the impossibly verdant landscape of Blossom Court soothing my eyes, I rested my chin on the wagon’s edge and let the slow rumbling movement lull my mind into a sort of doze. The air was sweet and fresh, a mild breeze tickling my skin.
Lysander strolled next to me, in black scaled armour he must’ve gotten from Black Court and a savage blade at his hip. His preternaturally handsome face took in every part of our surroundings at once. “It’s said the Ellythians and Sky Court royals used to trade,” his deep voice rumbled. “I wonder if that’s why your mother told you to go there?”
“I didn’t know that,” I said, surprised. “Perhaps that’s why they were chosen to guard the blade?”
Lysander nodded absently, his long blond hair gleaming brilliantly. There was so much I didn’t know. So much my mother had not told me. The same was true of the Green Reaper. Our ignorance was a serious problem. If we could just find out more about him, we could have the upper hand.
