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The air crackles with power as it flirts with my skin, radiating off him like a furnace. The amber ring that encircled his only pupil is gone, the pure white of the other eye is too, drownedin the darkness that consumes them both. Power streaks across his face in jagged, inky lines, like poison dripping from demonic eyes. His gaze never leaves mine as if he can read my mind.
“I can’t do this anymore. The needles, the lightning he shoots through my veins to get me to change… I don’t even know what he thinks I’ll change into. I remember everything from last year and I wish I didn’t…When the king asks me to make him young, instead of giving him life, I’m going to take it.”
Asmo steps closer until his face hovers just in front of mine. The barred wall between us is the only thing giving my backbone the strength when the very sight of him makes me want to shrivel away. “Don’t you dare… I’ve told you about my visions of the day he dies. It’s not by your hand. You can’t play with fate, Calamity. Trying to do so will only get us both killed. Do you understand?”
“When? You’ve been telling me about this woman that’ll come and take his heart for years. Where is she?”
“It doesn’t work that way,” he says, shaking his head and taking a step back. “I don’t know when, but I know what I saw.”
“What if what you saw in your premonition was from the past? The king is a druid. He has nine lives. Surely he’s died before and come back.” I arch a brow, crossing my arms over my chest in challenge.
“It’s not. I’ve seen her other times, too. In one, I nearly kill her when we go to war with Hell Hold. That hasn’t happened yet, so it has to be the future. The king will die, for good. He’ll get what’s coming to him, but knowing what happens and trying to change it never ends well. You could alter one tiny thing and set the realm on an entirely different course.”
“I have to… Something is already different this year. He didn’t send you to come get me and take me to the white room. Healwayssends you. For all we know, he might’ve already figuredout how to mimic my power, and if he no longer has a use for me, what’s keeping him from killing me today?”
“Why do you think I haven’t been able to sleep? I’ve done nothing but think about that for days.” His eyes return to their normal state, the dark streaks fading away as he takes a step back.
“Then let me try.” I reach through the bars to grip his hand. “I might die, anyway. At least this gives me a fighting chance.”
The clapping of shoes against stone steps continues to grow louder as one of the guards make their way down the stairs. By the sound of it, they’re not too far from my floor.
Asmo must hear it too, because when he speaks, the words rush out of him. “The king has two lives left. That means you’ll need to kill him three times. The first will be the hardest. When druids lose one of their lives, they have to relearn how to use their magic when they come back. It takes time, but he won’t be powerless or defenseless. He’ll still be able to cast, just not as well as before.”
I can’t help but glance at the opening to the stairwell. As distant as it may be, it feels like the world narrows around it, awaiting whatever comes next.
“Calamity…” Asmo whispers, drawing my attention back to him. “Don’t die... Please.”
“I love you, too.”
His eyes round as he pinches his lips between his teeth. Right before the guard can exit the stairwell, he reaches through the bars, pulling me toward them so he can kiss my forehead. As he draws away, I catch a metallic shine as a man steps out of the stairwell. Only it’s not a reflection of light off armor, it’s off a golden crown. My father stands at the mouth of the dungeon hall. We’re in the presence of the King of Monsters.
Chapter 2
Calamity
Every heartbeat is a relentless drumming in my ears as the king directs me down the dim hallway. Somehow, the air seems thicker. It’s the same air it’s always been, but now it’s almost too dense to breathe.
My lungs burn, tensing as we get closer and closer to the stairwell. I could walk this path with my eyes closed. I’ve completed this same trip over two dozen times. It’s seared into my memory, every footfall, even the number of stairs.
One of my father’s hands is pressed firmly against my back and the chains attached to my shackles jingle. I’m so hyper focused on putting one foot in front of the other that I don’t notice until it’s too late that Asmo has fallen behind.
He jogs to catch up, but I’m jerked to a halt as my father whirls us around, glaring daggers into him. “I told you; your assistance isn’t needed today.”
“I’m sorry, my king. It’s not safe for you to be alone with a prisoner. Someone should accompany you and wait outside the door.” Asmo’s gaze flicks to me for a split second, but every ounce of the loving man I know is gone. He’s wearing a face, themask of the dungeon master who lives for his duty, but that’s all it is. If the king knew how he really felt about him, Asmo would be dead. The man hates my father more than I do and that’s saying something, but he knows how to act, how tosurvive.
“Yourservicesare not needed. You’ve grown too close. I have someone else waiting for us in the white room. Keep pushing and you’ll get to live in the cell next to her. Understood?”
The lump in Asmo’s throat bobs as his eyes once again meet mine. His pause is momentary, like he might challenge the order, but then he dips his head. “Understood, my king.”
“Good.” My father yanks on the chain connecting my wrists, and speedwalks out of the dungeon.
Gods, it’s happening.Heart pounding, my feet fight to keep up with the king’s pace. We wind through floors of stairs, reaching the base of the castle and wrapping around the garden grounds until we reach a hatch in the dirt. The door to the white room. My stomach flips as my father tears it open and we descend inside.
I spot two guards sitting at a small table. They glance up at us but quickly return to their business. There’s a long hall, lined with orange-hued mage lights. I’ve never known what’s behind the other doors. Only the one at the end.
The obsidian stone walls and wooden doors feel far less civilized than the well kept gardens just above us. Even the castle is more modern, showered in gold and intricate archways. The torches that line the outside of the castle are even more sophisticated than this place. At least from out here. Beyond that door, however, is nothing but white, shiny surfaces.
Wood groans as the king waves a hand at the end of the hall. Locks, invisible to the naked eye, click and screech until the entire thing shudders and slips inside the wall, revealing a light so bright I have to squint to keep from going blind.
