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“Hurt her, and I won’t care about allegiances as my brother does,” I warn Truman. “I’ll end you.”
He bows his head. “She’s our one chance at saving the Bridge. I honestly believe that.”
“Good. Keep the faith and keep your claws off her.” I’ve wasted enough time on the monsters who don’t matter.
Only Rosemarie does.
With Hudyakis flying ahead of me, I stomp into the tower and slam the door, wishing to hell I’d stayed here with her instead of messing with the wyvern. The other guards could have corralled him. Except the Bridge might’ve completely crumbled before they’d managed it. I run a claw over my face, pushing my sweaty hair out of my eyes. Gods, this is a mess.
“You and your brother do nothing but dirty up my hard work.” Rona’s accusing voice has me backtracking. The brownie might be little, but she is terrifying. “I clean and here you come, tracking in mud, blood, and wyvern venom.”
“I apologize.” My voice comes out on a growl, and I snap my mouth shut so fast I almost cut a lip on a fang. Rona works hard and she doesn’t deserve me taking out my fuck ups on her.
She blows out a harsh breath, making the wisps of hair around her several knitted caps rise. “The attack has put us all on edge. How did a wyvern cross the rivers of flame and make it past the harpies? Someone’s messing with the old gods. Let’s hope they’re not trying to raise the monsters locked in the farthest depths of the After Worlds.”
When a brownie mentions monsters that make me—a gargoyle—shudder, it’s the kind of creepy, crawly shadow void from the legends best left forgotten. The memory of Wilborne’s muttering makes the hairs on the back of my neck rise. I can’t solve the multi-realm problems right now. Not when my concern is much more concentrated on a single person, the most important person in existence for me, even more important than my twin.
“How is she?” I ask Rona, not needing to say Rosemarie’s name.
“Scared, disoriented, and overwhelmed.”
“Losing the translator would do that to her. I can’t imagine not being able to understand what’s being said around me, let alone being shoved into a realm with no idea of the rules or the lack thereof.” I grumble the last with rage at how Mildrake dared treat a candidate.
“True. She had no idea what I was saying. I realized it after she shrank away from me.”
My gut twists. If Rosemarie’s afraid of Rona, how will she react to me? Will she accept me as she did Atticus? Or will she turn on me as quickly as Dyphena did? Rosemarie’s rejection would hurt so deeply, I’m not sure how I would recover seeing her with my brother if she’s unable to stand my touch. “She upstairs with Atticus?”
Rona nods. “The Spidress and her apprentices returned to the Web of Wares. I couldn’t risk the spider being here with the queen-to-be’s fear. But I’m not just speaking of the loss of the translator. The runes will fix that?—”
I cut her off before she can create an image I won’t be able to get out of my mind, that of Rosemarie wearing our runes. “Runes are permanent. She would have to want to win the trials, to stay here forever.”
The brownie tssks at me, and I can’t be sure if it’s for interrupting or reprimanding what I said. “You should have more faith in her. The stones do. The Bridge does. How can you expect her to want things when you won’t believe in her?”
Her accusation lands hard, and embarrassment at my own lack of faith crawls in a flush over my skin. “You’re right.” The brownie’s scolding has always cut me deeper than anyone else’s from the first few days after my twin and I rose from our carvings.
She gives me a stern glare but softens when my shoulders slump. “As I was saying, your queen-to-be suffered more than the loss of her translator. I sensed dark magic on her.”
“What? No. She’s as pure in heart and spirit as anyone I’ve ever known.”
“Agreed.” The brownie slides a pan of something delicious smelling into the oven and reaches into the millions of sweaters she wears, dragging a pendant from a hidden pocket. “Someone cast a spell over her. She fought off most of it herself which shows how strong she is, but here’s a clearing charm to take care of any remnants that linger.”
Fury blasts across my senses. Someone dared to work dark magic on Rosemarie. If she didn’t have the fortitude to battle whatever sorcery they spun, what would’ve happened to her? If her soul guardian hadn’t been there, would they have succeeded? I look to Hudyakis with gratitude before taking the silver disc marked with etchings I can’t read from Rona. “How can we repay you for this?”
“Keep her safe until she can become queen. That’ll be payment enough.” She scrubs at a spot on the counter, quietly dismissing me.
Clenching the charm in a claw, I head upstairs, preparing myself for whatever reaction I might receive from Rosemarie. If she rejects me, how will I recover? If she’s scared of me, I think it might tear my heart in two.
The sound of running water calls me toward Atticus’s bedroom. I stop in the doorway, knocking softly so as not to scare her worse than everything else that has been done to her in the last few minutes.
“Jace?” Atticus calls from the bathroom.
“Yeah.” My voice goes rough. I’ve never lost a battle. I took on that wyvern without a moment’s pause. Yet the possibility of crossing this threshold and dealing with what comes next has me hesitating.
“You coming?” Rosemarie asks, and my world narrows to her voice.
I'm moving before I make the conscious decision to do so. Anything my queen desires, she gets. “What can I—” I lose my train of thought as soon as I hit the doorway because her naked thigh peeks out of the blanket she’s wrapped in. She sits on a counter that’s too high for her, her bare feet dangling. Her hair falls around her face, curling from the steam in the room. Her fingers tremble, and the shaking snaps me out of my stupor.
“You all right?” I want to bite my tongue with both fangs because of course she’s not.
