The Impostor Queen by Sarah Fine Page B

stoop to avoid hitting his head. He leaned forward and opened the heavy lid, sickly green in the flickering light. Then he gestured toward the hallway, and two female acolytes entered, their eyes downcast. “Remove her clothes and help her inside,” Leevi instructed as I gaped in horror.
    â€œElder, why—,” I began.
    He let out a sigh. “We are doing everything we can for you, my Valtia,” he said, an impatient edge sharpening his voice. “Must you question us now? Perhaps your time is best spent focused on the magic and how to use it to serve your people, who so desperately need this gift only you can give them.”
    My cheeks burned with shame. “Yes, Elder,” I whispered.
    He left, and the acolytes stripped me of my clothing, leaving me shivering and naked. They had to help me climb into the cold, unforgiving box because I could not control my trembling. I curled my knees to my chest and lay on my side, the metal walls cold against my shins, my spine, the back of my neck. My nose burned with the scent of sweat and terror.
    â€œI know you have the magic, my Valtia,” one of the acolytes whispered as she looked down at me. “I hope this helps you.”
    She shut the lid, and I gulped back the first of a thousand stifled screams. I don’t know how long ago they left me here. Long enough for me to see things. Sofia, arching back in pain, her eyes bloodred. Mim, letting down her hair when she thought no one was looking, stroking her hand along her throat as firelight made her skin glow. I hold on to that one for as long as I can, because I swear, I can feel the darkness eating me, first my toes, then my fingertips. I can sense its breath, chilling my skin, reeking of secret horrors.
    I am not the first person to lie in this box. I am not the first person to stain it with the weakness of my body. And I wonder how many others have curled in here before me, and how many of them lost their minds as a result.
    â€œStop,” I whisper. “If the elders put you in here, it is because they believe it will help.”
    I saw the need in their eyes, and I know their anger at me comes from that need. They love and serve the people, who depend on the wielders in the temple to protect them. So they have encased me in a copper sarcophagus. . . . Several bits of knowledge interlock at once, pulling my thoughts from my own plight. The Kupari people produce magic wielders, when no one else does. We live on a peninsula rich with copper—it decorates our homes, our bodies. We eat off copper plates and drink from copper pitchers. And to stimulate the magic within their new queen, they have encased her in a copper coffin.
    Copper has something to do with our fire and ice magic—the source of our greatness and our shield against the world—but it seems we are running out of it. And here I lie, prophesied to be more powerful than any Valtia before. Maybe it’s because the Kupari need their queen more than ever.
    Please, I pray. To the magic, the stars, Sofia, and all the Valtias past. Please do not abandon me. I lose myself in those pleas until the coffin squeaks open and the acolytes pull me out. My hair hangs around my face in damp, greasy tendrils, and my fingernails are grimy. I stink—the acolyte wrinkles her nose as she pulls my dress over my head and down my legs, covering my nakedness. If Mim were here, she would never stand for this. Stars, how I wish she were here. I swallow back my sorrow as I think of her face. If she ever looks at me with disappointment, I’ll break.
    Maybe I should be grateful she’s not here now. I want to return to her victorious, so together we can move to the Valtia’s wing as queen and handmaiden. She’s given up so much for me—a regular life, a family, the chance to have children of her own—she deserves honor and ease, and I’m determined to give it to her.
    â€œWe’re taking you back to