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Features grave, he nods, and I can’t even fathom the cruelty of his gods.
“What did you do to upset your deities so much they killed off your chance to procreate? What makes you so horrible you can’t be allowed to continue to live as a people?”
“My ancestors took from the lands of Neredyn whatever they wanted—whoever they wanted—and the maker of humans didn’t like the way my people brought darkness over hers.”
“Shaelak?” My voice is trembling as hard as my hands as I try to keep myself from touching him, from clinging onto him in an attempt at comfort—for him or for me, I don’t care; perhaps for the both of us.
“Don’t ask what you’re not ready to hear, Ayna. Don’t ask anything at all unless you’re ready to break the curse.”
The devastation in his eyes. The fear…
My chest constricts, and my hand lands over his heart out of its own volition, and his shoulders rise and fall in a soul-deep breath.
“Tell me how?”
The shake of his head is a relief because it means he won’t risk his own life to help me save them all.
Because if he dies, I’m afraid, I might no longer care for saving any of them.
Thirty-Eight
The knifein my hand reflects like a mirror, the setting sun creeping in through the windows when I lower it over my palm. Blood bound the Crows to the forest. A human mage’s blood. I’m not a mage, but I am human, and I have magic, so it’s worth a try—not to release them from the Seeing Forest, because they can easily break those wards and go roaming about all of Eherea—and beyond—if they so please. Only the bargain with the high fae is keeping them from leaving. That, and Myron’s tight rein on everyone who’s been setting a booted toe out of line since the assassination attack. The Fire Fairies haven’t invaded the forest again as far as I can tell, but Myron has spent more time away from the palace than I care for, taking a small piece of me with him every time he leaves and weaving it back in whenever he returns with the same grim expression on his features, which only light up once we retreat behind the door to his room.
Today, he’s gone back to the dungeons with Royad, and I can’t help wondering who of the two plays the nice Crow when they interrogate the traitors, or if it’s even traitors they have down there. It’s been two weeks since the assassination attack, and everything has been suspiciously quiet.
As I lead the knife to my skin, I don’t think about any of it though. All I can think of is that this might be the moment I break the curse and set them free. If Ludelle could see me now, he’d be pleased with my bravery even when he’d hate that it is for another man. And my mother… She wouldn’t even bother trying to understand when it won’t change anything about me being married to a king. Only, I might die if the curse isn’t broken. Myron’s promise of freedom means nothing when I’ll be taken by the curse. Even if he’d sent me away with Clio to protect me, I’d still be his bride, and the curse would follow me. It sure has followed the Crows across an ocean.
The tip of the knife slices the skin between my thumb and index finger, making me bite my tongue to hold in a gasp of pain as I drag the blade across my palm right in front of the sacred chamber, which didn’t deign to open even for a noble cause such as me offering my blood to break the curse.
I’ve been waiting for days for an opportunity when neither Myron nor Royad is around to talk me out of my endeavor, and when they left earlier this evening, I decided that every day I wait is a risk that I’m not willing to take. So, here I am, bleeding onto the polished hardwood floor of Myron’s bedroom in hopes that his vengeful gods will listen.
“I don’t know what to say in order to catch your attention, Shaelak,” I murmur at the locked door, behind which the lake is hopefully listening. “If you’re the one who truly cursed the Crows, you’ve done an incredible job because they are suffering every single day.” I leave out that some of them had rather the curse was never broken because, even if he’s a Neredynian god, I’m sure he knows the way all gods somehow know what’s going on. “But the Crow King has atoned for the horrible acts of his fathers and forefathers long enough. He was an infant when the curse struck, so he couldn’t even have conceived the idea of hurting anyone.” Unless Crows are born evil, which I entirely and full-heartedly doubt since I’ve met Myron, Royad, and Ephegos. I hope Shaelak knows it, too.
“I’m offering my blood to break the curse. I’m the last bride Myron will be taking. No female will follow after me, so this is his last chance.” And I want to make it count.
Sure enough, the door in front of me rattles like something is trying to break free from the chamber beyond it, and it would be a lie if I said that I’m not quivering with fear.
If Shaelak heard me and stepped into that bathing room, I’m dead. Perhaps, I’m dead anyway if the lake decides I’m a fool for even trying.
But the water has tried to kill me only once while it has aided me twice, so I’ll take my chances.
There is nothing that could have prepared me for the moment the door bursts open though—not the plain wood of the sacred chamber but the carved one of Myron’s bedroom, and the Crow King storms in, blade in hand and magic spearing through the air toward me to latch onto my hand and mend the fresh cut.
“I don’t know what you think you’re doing by spilling your human blood onto my freshly cleaned floors, but I assure you, now is not the time.”
He doesn’t wait for a response as he drags me to my feet, picking the belt with my sheathed daggers from the cupboard near the door and pushing it into my hands. Before I can open my mouth to voice the question, he loses his patience with my fumbling the belt around my hips and takes it back, sheathing his own sword before buckling me in with a few efficient movements of his fingers.
“They’re here.” It’s all he needs to say for my heart to plunge from my chest as fear spreads through my veins where I’d been hoping my magic would pulse instead. He takes my shoulders with a taloned grasp. “Listen carefully, Ayna.”
My pulse is a drum in my head as his eyes lock on mine, holding me in place even when his fingers slide down my arms to take my hands in his.
“I need you to get out of here before the Fire Fairies can overrun the palace.”
“I’m not?—”
“Leaving? Yes, you are.” His growl is pure menace as he leans in, grip tightening on my hands. “I didn’t sacrifice everything to keep you alive just so you can die now. I didn’t fight for you over and over again only to watch you be taken by the fire the Flames will wreak on us. I need you tolive.”
My mouth opens in protest, but before I can form even a thought in my stunned mind, Myron pushes on, “I’ll take you to the lower level and sneak you out before they can block all exits.” He lets go of one hand only to pull me along toward the door.
