Free Shapeshifters by Amelia Atwater-Rhodes

morning after the coronation.”
    I watched the flight leaders leave, feeling shaken. After the three days were over, this would be my life. The battle that Karashan was talking about would be madness, but I saw no way to prevent it unless I could think of an equally decisive way to end this war.
    When we were again alone together, my mother said, “You spoke wisely today, Danica.”
    â€œWise words won’t save people’s lives if I cannot think of another plan, and I have no other plan,” I answered.
    The Tuuli Thea looked at me sadly for a moment. “I don’t mean to hurry you, Danica,” she said gently, her voice holding a rare note of affection. “But I honestly feel you are ready to take the throne, while I am long past my prime. It is a queen’s faith that keeps her people alive, but mine is running out.”
    â€œYou are young yet,” I argued, upset by the note of finality in her tone.
    â€œPerhaps, but some days I feel so washed away. You still have dreams, Danica. I have faith in you, and in what you can do. So does Karashan, orshe would not have let you stall her plans today. She has been planning this offensive since Irene Cobriana first entered our courtyard.”
    I shuddered at the thought that different words might have sent us all to battle today.
    My mother changed the subject to lighter things. “It occurred to me while you were speaking that when you accept the position of Tuuli Thea, you might also announce your choice for alistair. It would help the morale of your people,” my mother explained.
    I nodded, though with reluctance. This was her way of assuring herself—and the rest of our people—that the idea proposed by the Mistari queen was preposterous. “I will consider it,” I allowed.
    â€œHave you given any thought to whom you will choose?”
    The question was just a formality, since we both knew the answer was Andreios. His lineage was almost as pure as my own, and as leader of the Royal Flight, his loyalty was unquestioned.
    â€œI will be able to give my decision after the ceremony,” I answered, thinking how very short the next three days were likely to be.
    When she did not speak for a moment, I inquired, “Is there anything else you would like to discuss?”
    She shook her head. “I wish I could have given you peace,” she said with a tired smile. “Fly withgrace, nestling.” It had been so long since my mother had spoken to me with anything but detached civility, a queen to her subject, that hearing her speak so fondly made my throat constrict even though the words were a dismissal.
    â€œAnd you … Mother.”
    After the words, I did not return to my room, but instead sequestered myself inside the library on the third floor. If I could not think of a way to reach the Cobriana peacefully, then perhaps these books of tactics and descriptions of past battles would at least help me think of something less mad than Karashan’s plans.
    Instead, I found a dusty copy of an ancient text written in the smooth, flowing symbols of the old language. Supposedly, the original text had been written by the brother of Alasdair, who had been the first queen of my kind.
    No one could read the old language anymore, but when I absently flipped the pages, I found a few paragraphs that had writing above them—a translation, done by a raven named Valene. She had been a highly regarded scholar, until her quest for knowledge had led her to the serpiente. She had been exiled from the courts long ago, but apparently she had translated some of this text first.
    My sister is a beautiful queen. She has seen only fifteen summers of life, but she has taken us from famine to abundance,and transformed us from a poor village of beggars to an empire to rival the falcons’. They call her the golden one.
    A bit later, another piece was translated.
    Against my counsel, Alasdair has allowed the serpents into