One ofEWs favorite fantasy trilogies Erika JohansensQueen of the Tearlingseries is finally coming to a close this November.
Each summer the villagers of the Glace-Vert sweltered; each winter they froze and starved.
This year, however, they had something new to fear.
Clouds covered the moon, though these clouds did not yet signify the snows of Fairwitch winter.
On the foothills above, wolves howled in their strange language, mourning the scarcity of food.
But now, all at once, at ten minutes past two, the wolves fell silent.
The only sound heard over the Glace-Vert was the lonely moan of the wind.
In the shadow of the foothills, something movedthe black figure of a man, climbing the steep slope.
He was sure of foot, but he moved carefully, as though anticipating hazards.
He had come through Ethans Copse, stopping there for two days before continuing northward.
This creature had an old name in the upper Fairwitch: the Orphan.
The Glace-Vert had never had to worry about such things before, but now the disappearances were spreading south.
After two days, the man had heard enough.
Hes free, the Fetch thought bleakly, wending his way through the thorns on the slope.
I didnt end him when I had the chance, and now hes free.
The idea tormented him.
He had ignored the presence of Row Finn in the Fairwitch for many years because the man was contained.
Every few years a child would disappear; unfortunate, but there were greater evils to contend with.
The Tearling, for starters, where dozens of children disappeared every month under a state seal of approval.
The Raleighs alternated between indifference and predation, and the nobles fought for each scrap while the people starved.
For three long centuries, the Fetch had watched William Tears dream sink further and further into the mire.
Only the Fetch and his people knew, only they remembered.
They did not, did not die.
The Fetch stole to entertain himself.
He took a petty enjoyment in tormenting the worst of the Raleighs.
Even the Mort bitch, flawed as she was, carried a tiny hint of that glamour.
But the Red Queen did not breed.
For a long time, the Fetch had been convinced that the line was lost.
And then, the girl.
The Fetch hissed as a thorn dug into his hand.
It did not puncture the skin; he had not bled in lifetimes.
Many times he had tried to end himself before giving it up as a lost cause.
Rowland Finn had never stopped plotting for one moment in his life.
He, too, had been waiting for the girl.
She was the first Raleigh heir who did not grow up in the Keep.
Initially, he could not make out much.
Kelsea Raleigh was a quiet child, introspective.
His memories of the Tears were constantly fading, losing their bright shine and becoming dim.
But this he remembered: the Tears had always loved their books.
She was like the Tears, he saw now.
She lived inside her head as much as out.
From that day on, one of his people had been on the cottage at all times.
The Fetch wasnt even sure why he exerted so much effort.
The Fetch sensed that the girl was different.
She could be a Tear, he told his crew one night over the fire.
It was always possible.
There were several men in Elyssas Guard whose origins he did not know.
Enough theft on Thomass watch and any potential alliance was quickly soured.
So many things to attend to over the years, and so he had naturally let Row Finn slide.
A shape rose suddenly from the rocks ahead, halting his climb.
His clothes were little more than rags, his skin pallid with the cold.
His eyes were dark and impenetrable.
His feet were bare.
The Fetch stared at the child for a moment, chilled to his marrow.
I didnt end him when I could have.
The boy darted forward, and the Fetch hissed at him, like a cat.
I am not meat for you, the Fetch snapped.
Go and get your master.
The boy stared at him for a moment longer, then vanished into the rocks.
The Fetch covered his eyes, feeling the world tip crazily inside him, a dark vortex.
The True Queen had arrived at last, but she had come too late.
Something was descending the slope.
He stood his ground, waiting.
The last time they had sat down for a conversation had been .
More than two centuries ago, James Raleigh still on the throne.
The Fetch had wanted to see if Row could kill him.
We were friends, the Fetch remembered suddenly.
But those days had vanished into the distant past, several lifetimes gone.
As the black shape before him resolved into a man, the Fetch steeled himself.
Which one would he see today?
The face that turned toward him was the same one the Fetch had always known, pale and autocratic.
What do you want?
I want to talk you out of this.
The Fetch swept a hand at the mountainside below them.
This course youre on.
No good will come of it, not even for you.
How do you know my course?
Youre moving south, Row.
Ive seen your things stalking at night in the villages below the Glace-Vert.
I dont know your end game, but surely poor Mort villagers can have no part of it.
Why not leave them alone?
My children are hungry.
How many children do you have now, Row?
Soon they will be legion.
The Fetch stilled, feeling the dark hole inside him open a bit wider.
Row said nothing, only smiled wide.
There was no humanity in that smile, and the Fetch fought the urge to back away.
You already wrecked Tears kingdom once, Row.
You really need to do it again?
I had help in wrecking Tears Land, my friend.
Has it been so long that youve forgotten, or do you absolve yourself?
I feel responsible for my sins.
I make a run at repair them.
How are you faring with that?
Row spread an arm to encompass the land below them.
Mortmesne is an open sewer.
The Tear continues to sink.
Its been propped up.
Row laughed, a hollow, dismal sound.
Come now, Gav.
The girl has nothing but a loyal retainer and a gift for public relations.
You dont fool me, Row.
You fear her as well.
Row remained silent for a long moment, then asked, What are you doing here, Gav?
So youve swapped loyalties yet again.
That stung, but the Fetch refused to be baited.
She has your sapphire, Row.
She has Tears sapphire, Tears blood.
Row hesitated, his dark eyes unreadable.
Shes seen Lily, shes seen Tear.
How do you know?
She told me, and shes no liar.
Its only a matter of time before she gets to Jonathan.
His eyes darted from rock to rock.
Do you not see, Row, how this changes things?
This was a desperate gambit, one which would put Row on the hunt.
But these were desperate times.
The crowns been spotted.
Rows head snapped up, like a dog scenting something on the wind.
The Fetch did not answer.
How do you know its not the Raleigh crown?
Because I destroyed the Raleigh crown, years ago, to ensure Thomas could never wear it.
This is the real crown, Row.
The Fetchs heart sank.
Once upon a time, he had helped this man, not just willingly, but eagerly.
They had both committed terrible crimes, but only the Fetch had repented.
Row grabbed and took and never looked back.
We could make up for the past.
You spend all of your years tortured by guilt and assume that others do the same.
Dont imbue me with a conscience.
If my crown is out there, I will take it back.
All the kingdoms in the world wont change whats happened to us.
I see your idea now.
You think the girl can end you.
Will she do it, though?
Rows mouth crimped in a malicious grin.
Shes an easy child to read, and shes besotted with you.
She sees only a handsome young man.
Why did you come up here, really?
Row asked, and the Fetch caught a gleam of red in his eyes as he moved closer.
What did you hope to accomplish?
I hoped to come to an agreement.
Help me find the crown.
Help me repair the Tearling.
Its never too late, Row, even now.
Too late for what?
To atone for our crimes.
I have committed no crime!
Row hissed, and the Fetch was
pleased to see that he had touched a nerve.
I wished for better, that was all.
Rows eyes were burning brightly now, the flesh of his face turning pale.
At least he still feels, the Fetch told himself, then realized how little that meant.
There was no emotion in the world that would ever outweigh Rows hunger.
And if I dont leave?
Then I will let my children have you.
The Fetch glanced at the girl who perched on the nearby rock.
Her eyes shone almost feverishly, and against his will he found himself uneasy.
What are they, Row?
You were never a reader, Gav.
This is old magic, older than the Crossing, even older than Christ.
Ancient creatures, these, but they serve my will.
And you let them loose in the Glace-Vert?
They have just as much right as the next animal.
This statement was so much in character that the Fetch nearly laughed.
Rows voice was low and venomous, his skin so white now that it seemed bleached.
Do not get in my way.
Or what, Row?
I long for death.
Do you long for the deaths of others?
The Fetch hesitated, and Row smiled.
She has freed me, Gav, broken my curse.
I have no use for her anymore.
If you get in my way, if she gets in my way, I will finish her.
It will be the easiest thing Ive ever done.
He found himself suddenly pleading.
Jonathans dead, Gav.
You helped me kill him.
The Fetch hauled back and swung.
Ah, Gav, Row whispered.
Have we not done this enough already?
You make your new world, and I make mine.
Well see who comes out on top.
If its out there, I will have it.
The Fetch turned and stumbled away, nearly losing his footing on the slope.
Ten steps downward, he found that his eyes were blurred with moisture.
The wind bit through him.
He could not think of Tear without crying, so he turned his mind to what came next.
The priest had been missing for more than a month, and the trail had gone cold.
Lear and Morgan, perhaps Howell.
They would all need to hunt for it.
The slope behind him was covered with small children, white faces and dark eyes.
God, he murmured.
The night seemed filled with phantoms, and he heard Jonathan Tears voice, centuries away but very close.
We wont fail, Gav.
How can we fail?
We did fail, the Fetch whispered.
Great God, we failed so badly.
He turned and continued down the slope, too fast for caution, almost running now.
Several times he nearly lost his balance, but he could not get down soon enough.
On the hillside far above, the children waited silently, a still comber that covered the wide slope.
Row Finn stood at the forefront, watching the tiny figure below.
Once upon a time, Gavin had been the easiest man in the world to manipulate.
They always did as they were told, and they were eternally, unrelentingly hungry.
They waited only for his command.
He had waited almost three hundred years.
THE FATE OF THE TEARLING.
Copyright 2016 by Erika Johansen.
Reprinted with permission by Harper, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers
