The Scorpion Queen (The Royal Celestials Book 8), page 1
THE SCORPION QUEEN
CATE CORVIN
All Rights Reserved © 2021 Cate Corvin. First Printing: 2021
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means with the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
Author's Note: All characters in this story are 18 years of age and older, and all sexual acts are consensual. This book is a work of fiction and liberties may be taken with people, places, and historical events.
Cover by Sly Fox Design
Contents
Prologue
1. Nix
2. Nix
3. Nix
4. Nix
5. Nix
6. Nix
7. Nix
8. Nix
9. Nix
10. Nix
11. Kieran
12. Nix
13. Nix
14. Nix
15. Nix
16. Nix
17. Nix
18. Nix
19. Aegis
20. Nix
21. Nix
22. Nix
23. River
24. Nix
25. Nix
26. Nix
27. Nix
28. Nix
29. Nix
30. Nix
31. Nix
32. Nix
33. Nix
34. Nix
35. Nix
About the Author
Prologue
For millennia, the Wheel of the Zodiac has turned throughout the queendoms of Astari. In this new century, the Dawning has begun across the land.
For the next twenty-five years, each queendom will search for its True Queen, a woman twice-blessed by their god, who will rule until the last day of the last year before the next Dawning.
The Herald, blessed by the faith of the gods, wanders the world in search of these women, able to reveal those who are destined to take the throne.
And in the oasis-studded deserts of Dzuba, the woman who passes the Three Trials of Scorpio, ancient god of the waters and lord of the sands, will be crowned.
She will become the Walker of the Sands, the daughter of the desert’s magic and the link between the god and the land.
The Herald’s foretelling will light her way… if the True Queen can rise to meet the challenge.
1
Nix
“Nix, stop trying to touch the scorpions.”
I drew my hand back from the little woven basket crawling with baby scorpions. They were each barely half the length of my pinky finger, pearly white and still unvenomous. “I’m just saying hello.”
Alira scowled at me, her brow furrowed over the delicate, pale blue face veils all the temple acolytes wore, arms crossed over her chest. “Really, can you at least try to have a sense of decorum while we’re in public?”
The scorpion breeder quickly reached down and scooped one up, depositing it in my palm before I could pull away.
He had at least ten other lidded baskets behind him, each labeled with different varieties of scorpions, both those kept as pets and the kinds used in medicine. “These are pure-bred moonleaf scorpions! You’re an acolyte, yes? If you go to the Green Cloister, you’ll have the best moonleaf in all the queendom at your disposal!”
The scorpion’s tiny legs tickled my hand as it ran across the pads of my palm, desperately searching for a way down to its brethren.
“See? He likes you.” The breeder nodded enthusiastically, trying to get me to take it.
I figured each one of the scorpions cost at least a silver penny apiece, but if I needed a moonleaf for healing, I could just visit the healing priestesses. They kept an entire menagerie at their disposal, deep beneath the sands of the temple.
I lowered my hand and let the tiny creature plunge back into the basket, giving the breeder a wry smile. “Thanks, but it’s not the Green Cloister I’m after.”
Alira snorted derisively. I stood up, brushing sand from the knees of my loose-fitting pants, perfectly aware I’d never be able to afford the breed of scorpion I really wanted.
Even though the Spring Market was in full bloom, I hadn’t allowed myself to venture over to the stalls and wagons of the scorpius breeders.
They didn’t have baskets crawling with tiny moonleaf or sunbright scorpions, the ones most often used by the Green Cloister priestesses, but sold a far greater—and far more expensive— prize.
It was a prize out of my reach. The much-larger cousins of the scorpions, the scorpius, were born from eggs. The breeders carefully tended and packed the eggs, bringing them across miles of unforgiving desert to sell them at market.
And only the Riders of the Wind Cloister could afford them. A pure-bred scorpius egg would cost more money than I’d seen in my entire life.
I fully planned on trying out for the Riders. If I was good enough, they would sponsor me in and pay for my own scorpius egg. I’d be happy to work for them for the rest of my life to pay it back.
I caught sight of Sera across the crowded Market, gripping two cups and ducking between haggling vendors. She was followed by our guardian, Aegis.
My veil wasn’t opaque enough to hide my smile at the sight of stern Aegis tagging behind a temple acolyte, holding cups of our dessert and trudging after her through the sand.
Sera reached us and handed Alira her cup, and a moment later I felt something icy touch my bare arm.
“For you,” Aegis said, holding out the paper cup. His bright hazel eyes met mine for only a moment before flicking away.
I took the cup and the little wooden spoon he offered. The Spring Market was one of the few times we acolytes would ever get to taste real ice. The Dioscurian merchant had shaved it into fine flakes, piled slices of deep yellow mango on it in the shape of a flower, and drizzled coconut milk over them.
“Thank you,” I murmured, trying to assume some of the decorum Alira had chastised me about. Aegis had been assigned to guard the three of us while we were in the Spring Market, but we all knew what ‘guarding’ meant.
It mostly meant keeping us out of trouble, since no one would be insane enough to touch one of the acolytes without their permission.
Alira and Sera were already walking away, the sunlight glinting off the silver thread lining their veils and hoods. I took a bite of cold mango and dawdled behind, not intent on following them.
They were heading towards the clothing and jewelry stalls, but my heart was pulling me back towards the circle of caravans where scorpius eggs lay in beds of velvet, waiting for someone to choose them.
“There almost wasn’t a Spring Market this year,” Aegis said, his eyes slitted against the sun’s rays as he watched the other two acolytes stride away. “Sandstorms blocked most of the northern passes. The Riders had to lead the last of the caravans through.”
“They’re getting worse.” Suddenly the burst of fruit in my mouth had no flavor. “How many more years can we take until the entire desert is nothing but an endless storm?”
Aegis shook his head, a lock of dark chestnut hair spilling out of the hood of his white burnoose. “Hopefully not too many more.”
It had been years since Queen Safiyaah had died, leaving the deserts and oases of Dzuba without a ruler.
The High Council of Priestesses now advised her son, Prince Regent Antares Lesath III, but the power of the god Scorpio was linked to the land through the Queen, not the prince.
Without a Queen, the sandstorms had been growing worse over the years, from isolated seasonal phenomena to massive storms that lasted for weeks in certain parts of the desert.
More than one caravan had been lost in recent times, and the God’s Eye priestesses had recently received word that one of the northwestern oases had dried up overnight. The temple there had salvaged what plants they could before abandoning their home.
I forced myself to swallow my last bite of fruit, my throat suddenly tight. My own merchant family had been swallowed up by one of those sandstorms years ago, leaving me orphaned and without a single coin to my name.
The God’s Eye Temple had taken me in as an acolyte after their deaths. Now that I was nineteen, it was time to choose a specialty and move on to a new temple.
The Green Cloister held no interest for me, though Sera had her heart set on it. She was determined to achieve her mastery in healing there and move on to the Temple of Dreams, where she would be trained in the art of handling poisons and toxins.
Alira wanted to join the Water Cloister, where dancing was the highest skill. She came from a family of prosperous merchants who would be able to afford the best silk and jewels for her.
Her father, Ramses, was well-known in God’s Eye Oasis. He had the entire oasis market wrapped around his finger like a golden thread.
I had no skill with plants. High Priestess Naima, the head of God’s Eye Temple, had once described me as having a ‘black thumb’. The Green Cloister was out for me.
I was an excellent dancer, but the Water Cloister didn’t speak to me, either.
Because I danced best with weapons in my hands.
That left the Wind Cloister, the temple of the scorpius Riders. The only problem was that I had no money to afford a scorpius egg, and no patron willing to sponsor me into the Cloister unless I managed to impress th
em beyond their wildest dreams.
But that wouldn’t kill my dreams. Where there was a will, there was a way.
“The scorpius races will be starting soon,” I said, nudging Aegis with my elbow. “Want to watch with me?”
For a Shiran, he’d adapted to the heat of the Dzubian desert remarkably well. He wore the white-and-cobalt burnoose and loose tunic like it was a second skin, a sword on either hip. He hardly kicked up puffs of sand anymore when he walked, and his bronze skin had only deepened under the touch of the sun.
Although I’d always chafed under the guardians, I liked Aegis, always stoic against the silliness of the acolytes. Alira had a bet running on who could get him in bed first, but so far, Aegis had brushed all of them off with his usual stone-faced demeanor.
He was very handsome, with that bronze skin and the long braid of chestnut hair. I could see why they tried.
Aegis glanced towards Alira and Sera. Alira was holding up a delicate Vulcan-wrought silver chain against her neck, and Sera shook her head.
“They’ll be fine,” he muttered, a reassurance more for himself than for me.
I beamed up at him. “How much trouble could they possibly get into?”
Aegis shot me a look. “Do you want me to watch the races with you or not?” he demanded.
“Of course I do.” I looped my arm around his, pulling him through the crowded Market. “They’ll be fine, Aegis. The sparkles will keep them entertained for a while.”
I wouldn’t have minded being distracted by sparkles myself, but jewelry was a luxury for the unforeseeable future. Any money I earned would go towards a scorpius egg first.
To my surprise, he let me grip his arm without pulling away. I’d seen him gently shake off Alira more times than I could count.
During every Market, the Riders held their races out in the open desert, a safe distance away from the caravans and the town surrounding the temple. None of the merchants wanted to risk getting stung by a scorpius, whether it was accidental or not.
The Wind Cloister had their own small temple and scorpius stables on the other side of the oasis, but for the Market, they’d set up a white and aqua tent closer to the festivities. A fence had been erected between the Market and the path they would ride. I didn’t release Aegis until we were at the fence.
My shaved ice was melting, and I hastily scooped the last of the icy mango in my mouth before the heat ruined it. Outside the crush of the Market, the warm breeze ruffled my veils and hood, catching the loose legs of my pants.
Aegis leaned on the fence, chopping at his mango in a way that suggested his mind was elsewhere.
“A copper for your thoughts,” I said, emptying my paper cup. “Or I would give you a copper if I had one, but I don't. So you’ll have to tell me for free.”
A faint smile touched Aegis’s carved face. “I was wondering what you see in these creatures. Every time I’m sent to find you, you’re creeping around the Wind Cloisters and spying on them.”
I tossed the paper cup and spoon in a nearby waste basket, and leaned on the fence next to him. I was close enough that my arm brushed his sleeve, but he didn’t move away. “Watch the first race, and then I’ll tell you.”
Two of the Riders had emerged from the large tent. They were both female, wearing the same white burnoose and tunic as Aegis, but bands of aqua thread were embroidered around their upper arms and on the edges of their burnooses, marking them as Wind Cloister priestesses.
Heavy belts were slung around their hips, and the scimitars that hung there caught the sunlight like silver leaves. They disappeared to the temporary paddocks as the crowd began to grow around the fence, waiting for the next race.
One of the merchants I’d seen hawking scorpius eggs earlier was on Aegis’s other side. I caught a brief snippet of his impassioned speech to another breeder. “—Vanya bought the egg from Ahmoud last year. It’s an Onyx Bladeback, pure bloodlines. I’ve considered asking him to cross the Bladeback mother with one of my Razorclaw studs-”
A twist of hot jealousy rose in me and I stamped on it. One day I would be able to afford an Onyx Bladeback egg, though I’d always admired the blue-striped Sandstriders and their thin, razor-sharp claws.
It was obvious which Rider was Vanya as soon as the pair returned. She had her hood pulled down, a cloth sand-shield molded to the lower half of her face, and a pair of dark goggles that would protect her eyes from flying sand. The scorpius she rode was breath-taking.
It was enormous, his carapace a black so deep it seemed to absorb the sunlight rather than reflect it, with enormous claws frilled with small spines. Vanya looked tiny perched on the giant scorpius, settled comfortably in a saddle designed to fit around the Bladeback’s midsection.
Its tail was arched proudly, the stinger enormous and tipped with a needle, but it wouldn’t hurt her. Vanya would’ve hatched this scorpius from its egg, and it would’ve imprinted on her.
Then she would’ve allowed it to sting her while it was young, building up an immunity to the scorpius’s venom.
The other Rider’s scorpius wasn’t as large as the Bladeback, but it was sleek and streamlined, the legs and claws thin and bred for speed over the sand. Its carapace shone a glossy crimson, and the Rider tossed her hair back as she lined up next to Vanya.
One of the breeders let out a low whistle. “A Shaula Scarlet? She had to have paid an arm and a leg for that.”
One of the Riders came out of the tent and held up a white flag. I recognized her on sight: Head Rider Amunet, who had the good grace to allow me to hang around the Wind Cloister and watch the Riders train.
Her long black hair was streaked with pure white, hanging in a braid to the small of her back. She squinted across the desert, ensuring the way was clear, before letting out a sharp whistle and lowering the flag.
Both scorpiuses exploded forward, kicking up puffs of sand as they rampaged forward.
One moment they were there, the next moment they were a vivid blur across the low dunes, passing by the Market and out into the desert wilds.
I stepped up on the second bar of the fence, shielding my eyes against the glare of the sun as I squinted after them.
The Riders were in the distance now, the Shaula Scarlet pulling ahead of the bulkier Bladeback.
I wobbled a little on the wooden fence, and Aegis put his hand on my back, steadying me. I tried to ignore the little goosebumps that broke out over me from head to toe, because with my abdomen-exposing cropped top, his palm was against my bare flesh.
He seemed to realize that a moment later and drew his hand away, scowling out at the desert when I looked down at him.
“It’s okay,” I teased. “I’m not going to bite.”
He muttered something about ‘propriety’, still not meeting my eyes.
Disappointment curled through me, but I bit my lip and looked back out to the desert. The Riders had reached the goal-flag and had turned, and the Shaula was ahead by what seemed like miles.
“Vanya went for brute force over speed,” one of the breeders said, and the other scoffed even as the Shaula scorpius ripped back towards us, almost to the Rider tent again.
Vanya didn’t seem to care, raising her fist and letting out a Rider war-scream as she approached behind the Scarlet.
I understood all too well. Who cared how fast the scorpius was? Even on the back of the slowest one, there was the freedom of all the desert under its claws, the wind in your hair.
The Rider who’d won dismounted, leading her crimson scorpius back to the paddock. I stepped down from the fence, watching Vanya ride back.
The Market was always loud, but there was an ear-piercing shriek behind us, rising up even over the usual roar of conversation and merchant calls.
Several people spun to see what was screaming, but my eyes were glued to the desert. The wild shrieks had disturbed the Bladeback and it was rushing back now. Vanya pulled on the reins, no longer triumphant as it barreled towards the fence, claws and tail raised.
