THE CORD BETWEEN TWO QUEENS

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Prologue: AN EXILE’S SECRET

—•—• Thirty Years Ago •—•—

“Any last words, Katriana?”

My bones rattle from every direction, pain vibrating deep within—behind the womb meant to keep you safe. It spiders out as hot, searing white light, crackling against the Quartz Stone scepter gripped in my hand.

I quiver. What will this do to you, my child?

The power courses painfully through every vein, every artery tethered to my mercilessly pounding heart—like a charge set to explode.

My eyes burn with each blink, desperately trying to reset my sight, but no tears can wash away the yellow filter casting Katriana’s face in unnatural light.

My friend turned foe.

“This is mine now!”

She clamps her hands over my index finger, groping at the hot metal ring burning through my skin.

“I earned the right to use the Aura’s power. The throne. All of it is mine!”

Controlling lightning is like forbidding it to exist—asking it not to be what it is.

You can’t have this! The Aura didn’t choose you!

Your body belongs to another bloodline. To mix bloodlines could mean instant death.

Maybe I can save her from herself.

Every second is sacred. I have to make it count.

I yank my fist from hers.

But the Aura’s power snarls angrily through my cells—and yours—preparing for its exodus.

Explosive. Impulsive. Irreversible.

Katriana’s scream roars like thunder as five shadowed figures blur at the edges of my vision, faces cringing with each blood-curdling scream—visceral and violent.

The request to control lightning always comes a second too late.

I smell her pain—acrid, sharp—the spools of lightning uncurling through her bones, her blood, leaving the scent of spoiled flesh in its wake.

Suddenly, I double over—consumed by feverish light.

Something is wrong.

I drop the Quartz Stone scepter—the source of power radiating now from my belly instead, where you sit inside—as I curl my arms around you. The pain pinches harder, faster, punching through my pelvic floor.

Katriana stares at her hands, turning the soiled skin over and over, flexing her blistered fingers, wincing with each new flay. She screams again, rage burning hotter than pain, rocking back and forth in denial over her burnt, angry red hands.

The power courses through me again, my bones trembling under its vibration.

End her. The Aura’s voice booms inside my head.

I’m burning within as I deny the lightning its final release.

The five shadows back away as I reach toward one.

He shrinks back into darkness.

My heart breaks, lightning surges through, reducing my resolve to ash—like parchment set aflame.

Suddenly, my abdomen splits in half—the pain of the pouch holding you before the world cracks open.

Something is wrong! I command, slamming the Aura’s power back inside, telling it not to release—not to exist.

You’ll kill my unborn child!

On the contrary. I chose your child. And she will be mine. The Aura whispers one last time, highlighting Katriana’s vulnerable state, seducing me with her weakness.

So kill Katriana before she kills you. Now is the time.

No! I counter. The Aura’s power is too strong and will surely claim your life in my womb.

So I make my choice with inaction.

A parent’s love is born in sacrifice.

The power inside dulls as I breathe heavily into the swells of ebbing pain.

Then—a popping pressure, a crack in the womb fissures beneath your flesh, and an uncontrollable stream bursts between my legs.

I look down, panic rising as the realization crashes over me.

My water breaks.

1: ERADENA, HEIR TO THE KINGDOM THRONE

—•—• Thirty Years Later After The Birth •—•—

“Are you sure this is the right way up the mountain?” I adjusted the pack straps shredding the skin on my shoulders. Father and I stood on a steep incline, surrounded by the fallen cedars from last night’s thunderous storm. The earth smelled of sweet-soaked leaves, slick beneath our boots.

“The trail markers have washed out, but I’m confident this will take us to the crest between Twin Peaks,” My Father—the King—said, his kind smile softening the weariness in his slate-gray eyes.

“Are you sure this is the right place?” I teased, the sweet memory of a childhood detour surfacing like mist on the trail. Father was always getting us lost.

“I come here often enough alone. I think I should know my way through this pass by now.” He playfully narrowed his eyes, a sly smile curling his thin, pale lips. Lines tugged at his weathered face.

“And the Royal Guards never followed you up here?” I giggled lightly, sighing.

“I dodged them at the first pass,” He grinned coyly behind cloudy gray eyes. “After all these years, I haven’t lost my touch.” He flexed his fingers with a light flourish.

“So will you tell me what you’ve really been doing up here alone all these years?” I put my hands on my hips, joking. “Or will you make me wait another thirty years for the answer?”

“You don’t want to wait?” He laughed, tilting his face to the sky. “You’ve waited this long. What’s a few more decades for the descendant of Osha, first Queen of the Kingdom?”

“What a cruel thing to say to your firstborn. I’ve been waiting for this moment since I was a little girl.” My mouth fell open, then spread into a silly smirk.

Father’s eyes glittered with laughter, like cold glass catching warm light. “Tell me, Eradena. Are you having any second thoughts?” His frozen fingers glided across my cheek.

Not once did I question that the Queenship would be mine.

But recently, doubt had crept in—would I be worthy?  I knew nothing of my duties. Mother always managed hers minutes before I arrived, as if she never wanted me there.

Rule well, she told me this morning, eyes deliberately avoiding mine as her fingers twirled the rim of her porcelain teacup. I would soon replace her. The fear of withheld knowledge twisted a knot in my gut.

“No,” I insisted, exhausted by secrets between us.

He stiffened under my gaze, sorrow etched in his ancient eyes. His chin dropped to his chest.

Raindrops slipped from leaves while tree bark cracked deep in the timberland. We stood in silence, words sinking into the rain-soaked soil.

“What will be your first order of business as acting Queen, Warden of the Realm?” He finally asked.

“Ditch my Royal Guards,” I joked, beginning the awkward climb again.

Father sniffed, amused. I struggled for breath, sweat slick on my skin, chasing after him as he nimbly wove around fallen logs. The humidity at this four-thousand-foot summit was suffocating; I pulled sticky strands from my cheek.

“The real answer?”

I squared my chin, lifted my chest. “End the war. Be a worthy daughter of Queen Osha, like those before me.”

“You’ll always be my little girl—no matter the title you hold or when you leave this world.” He twisted his walking stick nervously.

My little girl.

The phrase sounded strange on his lips. He only said that when he feared he might never see me again. 

Were our lives in danger?

Suddenly, two large ethereal gel-like rings bubbled into the overcast sky. Purple mist glowed within the inner circle; striated symbols solidified the outer ring.

“Sixth Guard Remnant Wielders must’ve left their portals open again,” Father said in awe. “Our Service Vessels are coming through.”

Three vessels glided overhead—square emblems etched on paneled metal hulls descending toward two large landing fields shaped like intersecting crosses over a balding treeline.

Our servicemen are coming home, I thought, elated.

“The Remnant Wielders are getting closer to our borders if our vessels can exit their portals close to Kingdom territory.”

I paused, trepidation rising. Recent news of Remnant Wielder attacks on Kingdom soil cut me raw.

“But I suppose it’s both a blessing and a curse,” Father said. “A curse because the Remnant Wielders use the portals to breach our boundaries; a blessing because our Servicemen can come home faster through them to defend us.”

Malachi—the name of my first kiss—slipped from my lips.

“Come now,” He waved me over. “If I remember correctly, the ridge should be this way.” He shifted our direction and the conversation.

I hesitated, eager to pry deeper.

“The Servicemen are coming home earlier than expected—is it because of the attacks or my Right to Ascension in five days?”

“It takes more than someone becoming Queen to bring our Servicemen home.” He planted his walking stick firmly. “It’s something else.”

“What?”

“An event that occurred in the Delta Quadrant Astral System a few weeks ago.”

“What event?” My heartbeat quickened as I fingered the ring around my neck.

“I don’t have all the details yet. Still waiting for the Major assigned there to report.”

“I know you’re distorting the truth, Father. I understand why, but I’m not a little girl anymore who needs protection. When will you tell me what you’ve been hiding?” I quickened my pace, the name of the Delta Quadrant Astral System beckoning me. “You can’t keep me in the dark forever.”

I know things.

Suddenly, the sound of rushing water emerged in the distance.

Father veered slowly to the right.

I pushed harder up the mountain. Two jagged boulders of varying heights rose beside me; their shadows darkened the leaf-covered dip in the tree line.

I smiled.

Father and I weren’t the only ones who had walked this path year after year.

Malachi. My heart fluttered. I swore I saw his silhouette eclipsed against the boulders.

“We’re close,” Father called. “Eradena, remember the terrain as best you can—the markers wash away every rainy season. Trees fall and change the turf, time takes its toll, and tribes toil. But one thing remains.” He cupped a hand behind his ear. “You hear that?”

I nodded, heart yearning for twelve years ago, when smoke from Malachi’s fire swayed in the breeze.

“The closer the roar of water gets, the closer we are. At the top sits a cave overlooking the Kingdom—and beyond. Your Kingdom.”

“Let’s get on with it.” I inhaled the fresh, dewy air beneath the heavy clouds.

“We haven’t much farther to go.” He looked up.

I followed the thundering waterfall toward the ledge.

“Where are you going?” He called nervously, jamming his hands under his arms.

A wall of white water cascaded between petrifying peaks. To my right, the Kingdom sprawled—fortified and opulent. Below, countless structures stood beneath hovering clouds—mere playthings from this divine perch high in the sky.

All except the Kingdom Palace, standing tall like the center stone of a betrothal ring, its many facets glistening like a solitary snowflake.

Next to it, the Scablands—a scarring wasteland, dry and destitute.

“Father,” I hesitated. “What if… what if what is expected of me as acting Queen is different from what I believe a Queen should be?”

My time pouring over Queen Osha’s sacred scrolls had shown me things I shouldn’t have seen.

“Eradena?” He turned to me, gripping his walking stick so hard his knuckles whitened.

“What if two enemies were never meant to be enemies at all?”

“Be careful what you say. You could be executed for talking like that.” His face drained of color. Somehow he knew I meant the Remnant Wielders.

“Just a thought.”

“I doubt that very much.” He desperately took my shoulders. “Now, what have you done?”

“Nothing.” I hesitated. “I haven’t—”

“Do you know what this means for the Remnant Wielders gifted with the Aura’s power, and the powerless Kingdom Citizens?”

“I know enough—”

“You know nothing at all!” He shouted, eyes blinking rapidly, hands thrown down. He slumped. “You’ve been reading the sacred scrolls again, haven’t you? The ones I told you to avoid—”

“Father.” I dropped to one knee, voice soft.

“Listen,” He said harshly, “Do you think you’ll be Queen if they catch you reading that? They’ll strip your title and burn your name from the ancestral wall—”

“I was safe.”

He pinched his nose and shut his eyes, swearing.

“No one knows what I’ve done. I promise.”

He exhaled shakily.

“Father, what if a Kingdom Citizen—someone not associated with our enemy—gains the power of an Aura?”

“There has only been one known to wield within the Kingdom, and she is now The Exile.”

The Exile—her real name crossed off, replaced with a traitorous title filed in a record no one was supposed to know existed.

“Where was she banished?”

“To the Delta Quadrant Astral System.” He shifted, leading me away from the ledge.

I adjusted my satchel.

“We mustn’t delay our hike any longer.” Father palmed his wobbly knee to rise as I gave him my hand for support.

He braced my forearm and propelled himself around me without a word. A musky fresh rain scent coated the wet stones, canceling out the sour smell of decaying bark.

My ankle throbbed as my weight shifted on uneven ground.

I stumbled. Father snapped his head back.

“I’m okay,” I muttered, my palm slipping against sticky mud. I got up immediately and closed the distance between us.

Sweat dampened my skin; silence settled around us except for creaking branches.

The path narrowed with a looming wall of jagged rocks forming a tunnel. I touched the familiar rock wall as the gray sky disappeared behind the looming edges.

“We’re here.” Father cleared his throat, a small smile lighting his eyes like cold glass catching warm light. He led me to the mouth of a cave carved behind the waterfall’s commotion.

Inside, I guided Father’s hand as he palmed the grooves of his walking stick. His eyes were frightened while mine focused on the calm, cool waters before us—a pool of purity fanning beyond the cavern walls. I bent down to stare into the crystal tide tinted turquoise, its small waves lapping over my skin as I dipped my hand.

“I remember the day I brought you here for the first time,” Father said, sinking to his knees beside me. “You were four years old. You couldn’t believe that something as terrible and frightening as the thunderous Twin Peaks could hold a small heaven inside its chaotic core.”

“I still can’t.” I shook my head.

“This is the place I long for.” He stared beyond the cave opening, where a curtain of falling water concealed the chasm like a bride behind her veil.

I cupped a palmful of water, washing the crusted mud from my fingers and face. The coolness refreshed me, resetting my angst.

As I looked down, my reflection rippled with the bending light. It was a ritual I’d performed since I was small.

“You are still my little girl,” He said confidently.

There were those words again. I waited uncomfortably for my reflection to stop swaying.

Father sighed and pulled a large skipping stone from his robe, hurling it into the water.

“Hey.” I glared. My features were just about to settle.

“If you’re waiting for the waters to reflect your image, you must know it’s only a mockery of the real thing. The true masterpiece is you.”

“I see myself differently in the water,” I whispered softly, accepting his distortion as normal between us.

“You know, Eradena,” He shifted his stance, “These waters keep my secrets.” He hurled another stone.

“Is that why you always throw skipping stones into the middle? Is it some sort of symbol?” My eyes followed the stone as it floated, barely sinking.

He stilled, avoiding my gaze.

“These aren’t really stones, are they?”

Father shook his head.

“Then what are they? And please don’t distort the truth.”

“You’re the only one who distorts the truth, Eradena. I come here to remember who I am and what I wish to accomplish. You’re the one who wishes you were someone else.”

“What?”

“We’ve made this trek nine times over your childhood, and I see what you do to yourself.”

I looked down sadly as I lifted the smooth stone from the water—copper-colored striations cutting through its obsidian shade.

The turquoise waters lulled; my reflection stilled. The skin under my eyes was dark as sin, muscles strained to smile, lips dull and ashen.

“I thought you came here to get away from Mother.” I closed my hand over the stone behind a calculating smile, curious about Father’s anxious effort to keep my attention from the stone.

“I do that too.” He shared my warm smile briefly before his face stiffened, contentment eclipsed by affliction. “Do me a favor and make sure that stone is buried.”

“Of course.” I plunged my fist into the water, scraping a hole in the sand. Suddenly, my knuckles bumped eight more obsidian stones concealed beneath the bank.

“There will come a time when I’ll need you to remember this moment.” He shook, his knees locking.

“What is there to remember?” I asked calmly, hiding my discovery.

“This.” He stretched his hand over the pool. “It’s everything I have.”

“What are you talking about?” I covertly clamped a stone to my breast, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

“We should get back. Your Mother and the Royal Seamstress are waiting.” He rose slowly, angling away from me. The taps of his footsteps echoed off the cavern walls. “If we are to get you proper clothes for your coronation, we mustn’t keep them waiting.”

I nodded carefully, waiting for him to disappear around the corner. When he did, panic tightened in my chest as I sealed the stone tightly in my hand. There was only one man I could confide in—and there were secrets between us.

Instead of burying it, I thrust the stone into the pocket of my tunic—and betrayed him.