Young Writers Society

The Three Queens

*Sorry about the weird formatting - I can't seem to make it clear where my paragraphs are and where I've just separated speech from the rest of the text and I'm not sure how to fix that, so if anyone knows, please tell!*

Chapter Three

“I’m going to kill him! I’m going to kill him!” Zana screamed furiously. This announcement was quickly followed by a chair rocketing across the room, only to hit the wall with a resounding crash before it shattered into several splintered pieces.

Dria watched with some relief whilst the performance descended into hysterical sobbing, as Zana followed the chair’s example by falling apart onto the floor. Just as she was about to sigh with relief, two sudden thuds sounded. Dria span around to see Zana’s daggers embedded in either side of the doorway, just inches from the man whose head peered through it into the chaotic room. Berating herself silently for not noticing him first – whilst at the same time wondering how it was possible for Zana to move so fast that she could throw two daggers across a room right in front of Dria without her seeing – Dria walked across the room to send him away.

“The Queen will be with you all momentarily,” she told him frostily.

He smiled gleefully and replied, “Oh of course. I just wanted to know what was keeping her. I can see now that it’s something very important.”

Dria did sigh then - but with exasperation, not relief.

“Go back to the meeting room and wait. The Queen is just about to join you,” she instructed firmly.

He took one final look around the mess before ducking out of the doorway and disappearing down the dimly lit corridor.

Turning back, after spending a few moments watching to ensure that he did as he was told, Dria let her critical gaze travel to the pitiful figure seated before her. Zana was now emitting a strange crooning noise punctuated by sobs that sounded vaguely like “Kill him, kill him, kill him.” Tempted to sigh again, Dria suppressed her frustration and instead busied herself with piling up the larger debris. As she added the final pieces to the heap Zana became abruptly quiet.

Dria looked on silently as she stood up, brushed down her skirt, tidied up her hair and smiled.

“You know, I’m used to you throwing things at me – but Koran might take those daggers the wrong way,” Dria said light-heartedly.

Zana replied innocently, “How could he? He knows that if I’d wanted to hit him I would have done.”

Dria rolled her eyes at the unabashed vanity of her leader.

“Do you think that it’s time to join your guests yet?” she enquired.

Zana looked at her and answered, “Don’t be facetious – stick to your own job and I’ll do mine.”

Then she swept out of the doorway, with Dria left to trail behind.

Her entrance into the meeting room was no less grand – she swept in, seated herself regally upon the throne-like chair at the head of the table and swung her feet up to set them down on the table. Zana looked around slowly, counting off names in her head; checking to see if all were present.

Having satisfied herself on that score she said, “Let us begin the meeting. Does anyone have any pressing concerns?”

There was a short silence before Venya – the only female ‘guest’ – replied, “It seems that you do.”

“Yes indeed,” Saveth agreed, “I think that we would all like to know more about this man that Koran says you would like to kill.”

Zana glared at Koran.

“Koran should learn not to stick his nose where it isn’t wanted,” she snarled.

“But Zana,” he protested, “that’s my job – it’s what I do.”

Zana snorted and turned back to the rest of the group.

“I would like to see Shadow dead. Is there anyone who can arrange that?” she said.

“Ah your Loner. I had heard that he was giving you trouble again,” Koran smirked.

“What would you know? It may be your job to gather information Koran, but you certainly aren’t any good at it – and you’re even worse at keeping the little that you do know to yourself. If you hadn’t let one of your people tell Shadow that the Starlight Diamonds were in the city then he wouldn’t have been able to steal them before me. And if you tried a little harder then I would have his true name and I’d be able to stop his trouble causing!”

Zana gave Koran another anger-fuelled look that had him sinking low on his seat.

“I agree with Zana on that point,” Jolan interjected, “After all Koran, I asked you to discover the Serpent’s identity many moon cycles ago, but so far you have come up with nothing. And a Lone assassin causes much more damage to our reputation than a Lone thief.”

Koran sighed petulantly.

“I’ve been doing my best,” he whined, “but I’ve only got so much manpower available and what with all the watches that I’ve got on the Queen’s Spies there are very few men to spare on hunts for elusive Loner’s identities.”

“Well you can make it your top priority until you’ve succeeded,” Jolan replied.

Koran frowned and began muttering half-hearted complaints. The others ignored these – they’d heard them all before.

“Now that that’s settled, is there anything else?” Zana asked.

“Just one thing,” Venya answered, a menacing edge to her voice, “ I’d like to inform you all that the next time a gentleman visits one of my establishments and doesn’t pay I’ll have him stabbed – Underworld Royal or not.”

A large amount of grumbling met this announcement, but no one spoke up to contest it, so Zana swung her feet off the table declaring “Until next time then.”

The group rose as one and made it’s way out – all except for one member.

“Jolan,” Zana greeted him coolly.

“I have a proposition for you,” he informed her.

“Do go on.”

“I have come to the conclusion that an alliance between the Assassins and the Thieves would be very beneficial for both of us.”

“Really? How so?”

“You let me borrow your people and I’ll kill your Loner for you – free of charge.”

“Is that all?”

“Oh no. There will be other benefits of course.”

“Such as?”

“For one thing we’ll be spending a lot more time together.”

“How does that benefit anyone?”

Jolan paused to run a finger down her arm, and Zana realised just how close he was standing.

“I would find spending time with you very enjoyable,” he said.

“Really?” Zana’s voice was sceptical and suspicious but Jolan carried on regardless.

“I think that you would enjoy it as well. A nice break from your pitiful Prince.”

Zana’s lip curled.

“I infinitely prefer Farl’s company to yours,” she sneered.

“How can you know? You haven’t ever had the chance to spend some time alone with me.”

Zana didn’t reply and for a moment the two remained silent and unmoving.

Then, as if he had been overcome with desire and could contain himself no longer, Jolan slammed her against the wall, hitched her leg up around his waste and pressed his hungry mouth to hers. His kisses were wild and savage; he used his teeth as often as his lips, consuming her as a predator does its prey. One arm was wrapped around her body, his fingernails drawing blood from her arm. His other hand was entwined in her hair, wrenching her head back so that she felt as if her neck was about to snap.

It wasn’t so much a moan as a growl that escaped between Zana’s lips as his pressed forcefully against her throat. Only then did he stop, pulling away to leave her leaning weakly against the wall.

“Is that reason enough?” he enquired, panting slightly.

Her reply was also spoken between ragged breaths.

“I’ll have to think about it,” she gasped.

“Think away my darling,” he murmured, “but make it quick. I don’t know how long I can wait before I end up doing something drastic.”

A girlish giggle trickled from Zana’s mouth.

“You’re mad!” she proclaimed, “You’re moon-mad!”

“Yes I am,” he agreed, “for you are my moon – you are the only goddess who lights my nights.”

It seemed for a moment as if he had convinced her - her face was flushed with pleasure and anyone would have been able to see how powerfully she yearned for him. But her independent spirit would not allow it. She refused to succumb.

The change was sudden and very visible. He began to turn away even before she spoke, his shoulders slumped in disappointment.

“Goddesses don’t associate with mortals – especially not the foolish ones that believe themselves in love,” she sneered.

His laugh was forced and hollow.

“Maybe you’re right. But that doesn’t stop the mortals from devoting hours to their foolish longing.”

She watched him leave, wondering thoughtfully why it pained her to see him go. Perhaps, she thought ruefully, she was a little moon-mad herself.