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The story sank into me, closing the gap between Eydis’s journals and Ealhswip’s plans. My voice shook as I spoke. “What happens if she opens the Gate again?”
“Things meant for death only do one thing. It’s said they hunger for the life they cannot have.”
“And the crowns?”
“Even the most powerful sigils cannot last generations as the magic put into them by the mage diminishes. Through the glass crowns and vows of protection on the Day of the Dead, when the Goddess’s power is the strongest, the ruling royals tie their own magic to them. I, like each high priestess before me for the last two hundred years, have asked to send their representative and find a way to restore the balance. Each wedding strengthens the sigils—we do not know what would happen if they broke on their own. You want my help in fighting the dead? Attempt to repair the balance—that’s my price for what is happening on the streets is nothing compared to the destruction that will come otherwise.”
Mariska straightened and I saw the princess she had been trained to be. “I can plead your case to my cousin. With enough time, he’ll want to help.”
“That’s not what she meant.” Lumi’s determination mixed with anger. “I kept my sister away from you despite your sweet words of family and belonging, knowing it was only a matter of time before you found a way to use us for your own gain. Even I didn’t expect the request for her to throw her life away would come this fast.”
I placed a hand on her cold shoulder. “That’s my choice to make. You followed your beliefs and I have not accused you. We both do what we need to do.” I turned to my great-grandmother and high priestess. “You think I can restore this balance because we are related? I know nothing of necromancy or sigils.”
“You two are abnormalities, death and life in one.” Her eyes took me and my sister in, her point never truer. “If I knew another way, I would not ask. I’ve never seen the Gate. The only direction I can give is that magic is built to protect against outside attack—wear the crown, bond with it, and it’ll show you the way. The balance wants to be restored. I’m afraid we’ve waited too long. Too few Spirits listen to our calming song and the clicking of the bones for the call to rise against the living.”
Lumi turned to Popova. “Send someone with her at least. You owe me that much.”
The old woman inclined her head, and I wondered what had passed between them during the previous two years.
“I’ll tell them it’s your last wish,” she said. “Some will volunteer.”
Lumi smiled. “They’d better, or I’ll haunt them no matter what happens.”
My mother had struck her deal with Kirill, perhaps in this very room, setting the path for my life. Now, I was doing the same, promising my own body to save others.
I stepped into the center, accepting attention and leadership I’d never wanted. “I’ll leave from the Bone Grove for the palace at sundown with whoever is willing to help. Nataliya and Lana will buy and distribute any food they can get. Everyone spreading the word to stay inside.” I loweredmy voice, the commanding tones wavering. “Mariska, warn him the dead are coming. Ask him to destroy all food. Tell him of Ealhswip.”
She nodded. We both knew it was too late for him listen—he had done what he thought right. I needed to do the same.
I swallowed, then gave voice to the song of Tal I’d danced to my entire life.
“Neither side in this care about collateral damage. We have been poisoned and burned, stolen from, and pushed down. If we want tomorrow to be better, we must do it ourselves.”
One by one, these powerful women nodded at my words. I had not asked for this, but somehow, I had known it would come down to me. I knew the palace. I knew the crypt. I should have been the bride.
At least Lumi would not leave my side this time.
We were not damsels sitting around waiting to be rescued or chosen. We had to choose ourselves and our neighbors and our city, hoping Tal would recall what it truly meant to be for all.
Dead and alive, we were fighting for our future.
I had crashed the engagement ball, time to ruin the wedding.
Chapter twenty-six
Dimitri
The sun sank outside the king’s chambers, and the darkness inside was better suited to an execution than a wedding. Next to the heirlooms of my line, my personal possessions still seemed as out of place as me. There was too much gold, even parts of the fireplace gilded.
A separate sitting room contained everything Alexei left behind. I had written to his family, my stilted words conveying my condolences but none of what happened that night. He died a hero. Would receive the highest honors, the Talian Rose, and that was it. I could not even inform them where his bones were hung. Even von Uster had not found a trace of the body in the chaos after the fire.
In a weak moment, I had read Alexei’s correspondence—letters to a woman, mentions of a daughter. Had he not told me because of my grief? I’d been a miserable friend. He would have despised how I left things with Vanya. Or laughed at me for ordering her to stay out of danger, expecting a different outcome than last time.
The night I met Tempest, I had mocked the painter, watched her thinner lips, and remembered the feel of the real woman against me. Dark hair lay piled on top of her head, features innocent. I had spent bells wondering how they madeher sit still for so long. It was a particularly good portrait of Helia von Heskin but had failed to capture Vanya.
I should not think of another woman on my wedding day, but it would have been impossible not to even if I had not returned to my rooms to bathe and dress and found Helia’s portrait in the place of honor on the mantle—my future wife.
But she was everywhere.
