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The person who’d ripped me from my world and kept me trapped and chained me up and laughed and mocked me as I was slowly dying in freezing agony was dead.
Lonan was king.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Lonan
“She will remain like this in the afterlife,” Ankou told me before he and his cusith vanished, “if you don’t kill her again yourself. There will be no rest for her there. She will be a… moving husk. A rotting, animated corpse for eternity.”
“Good.”
Ankou turned to look at me. From beneath the shadowed brim of his hat, I saw the faint gleam of sharp white teeth as he grinned.
“Indeed.” He inclined his head a fraction, resting his hand on the neck of his hound. “Until we meet again, Unseelie King.”
The moment they disappeared, the Carlin’s body slumped back onto the floor and went still. I carefully stepped around the pool of blood and opened the door. This room was mine now, but I already knew I wouldn’t be moving into it. Perhaps I’d just leave her here to rot.
I closed the door softly behind me and made my way out of her quarters. The palace was still completely silent as I walked down the hallway towards my own bedroom, but I paused outside each of my brothers’ doors, listening intently.
Utter silence came from Balor’s room. It felt empty. From Cethlen’s, I could just about hear the deep breaths of sleep as well as the snores of his hound. Feverish mumbling came from behind Bres’ door, a single voice talking to itself in an unbroken stream.
I stepped into my dark bedroom, making sure to close the door silently behind me. There was only a single bright spot in here—the ball of orange seelie fire in its jar, still resting on my bedside table. I walked over to it, hand automatically lifting to clasp the warm acorn hanging from my neck.
Sinking onto the edge of my musty bed, I reached out and picked up the jar, cradling it between my hands. The warmth seeped into my fingers, so familiar that it made my shoulders sag in something close to relief. I closed my eyes and pictured the night Ash had given it to me. The first birthday presents I had ever received.
Letting out a slow breath, I opened my eyes and carefully set it back down.
Then I pulled a sheet of parchment and a fountain pen out of my bedside drawer, and began to write.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Ash
I was trying my best to stay calm.
What was happening over there? Was Lonan alright? Was he injured? How had the Carlin died?
I hadn’t even attempted to go back to sleep after being woken in the night. Everything had gone quiet after that. No more ripples in the air or strange feelings telling me something had happened.
After pacing the bedroom for a while, I’d gotten dressed and come down to the drachmsmith’s chamber to try and distract myself. I hadn’t left since.
Some guards had appeared an hour or so after my usual breakfast time, looking relieved to have found me. Jora had brought my breakfast down for me, and I’d picked at it while copying out potion recipes I wanted to attempt. Then Brahm had knocked on the door and nervously asked me if I would be attending my meetings today. The question had irritated me beyond belief, but since finding the Brid’s journal and my conversation with Fioda and Mol, I’d been trying my best to temper my anger. To not lash out and snap impatiently. I refused to treat anyone like she had.
I managed to calmly tell him no, but asked him to see if Morrin would be willing to come and speak with me later in the day. I hadn’t spoken to him since he’d told me about the noble Folk, and now I wanted to know what was happening in the forest. Now that Lonan was king, would I stop destroying everything? Would Orna right itself?
I’d found a recipe for ‘a brew to clear a troubled mind’, which seemed like the ideal thing to make. For a few hours, I was left alone as I selected the ingredients needed from the shelves and got busy grinding dried lavender, steeping skullcaps in strong alcohol and carefully laying out the delicate white petals of chamomile flowers close to the fire to dry. The soothing, repetitive tasks kept my brain busy, stopped it churning constantly over what was happening beyond my reach.
The moment the brew was bubbling over the fire, I sat down at the table and started copying out another potion to keep me distracted. Somehow, despite everything, I was actually feeling better. For the first time in a very long time, I was doing something for myself.
I frowned when a knock came at the door, but forced myself to calmly say, “Come in.”
Brahm opened the door and held it so that Jora could carry a tray inside. She set it down in the clear spot on the table. “Your lunch, King Ash.”
“Appreciate it, Jora.”
She quickly collected what remained of my breakfast, poured me a fresh cup of tea, then retreated. But Brahm lingered, hovering awkwardly by the door until I looked up and managed to give him a tiny smile.
“Was there something else, Brahm?”
