My eyes widen as I take in the new world.
The land is vast, empty with snow and ice and fissures through the ground. The only structure that stands is in ruins to my right. An ancient castle long since crumbled.
The landscape is so different from Annwyn. There isn’t a single place in our world that’s covered in such cold. It’s actually quite beautiful, if it weren’t for the ruined ground broken up and split.
The sky is as colorless as the bridge, yet the air holds a scent that makes me want to gag.
Okay, so Oreareeks.
They didn’t say that in the history books.
Off in this distance, I can see trails of smoke rising, so that must be part of the stench. I’m really hoping that the veined soldier didn’t die from breathing the air.
Hopefully, it’s not poisoned.
As soon as I step off the bridge’s dirt and onto the snow, I feel my magic come whooshing back. It takes me unawares, my body puffing back out, straining against the stone banded around me, feet filling out my shoes, face morphing, hair darkening and shortening.
I nearly trip on the slippery ground as my body tries to readjust to my changed limbs and weight. With my feet no longer swimming inside the overlarge boots, I manage to stay upright as I track through the snow. Barely.
I pass by remnants of thick walls of ice now crumbled to pieces. I guess that explains those crashing sounds. This is the barrier the king was informed about. Now, it lies broken and useless.
We’re through. Pouring into a frozen world that feels utterly different from Annwyn. I look around, trying to find the king, when suddenly, the ruins to the right start moving.
I guess I found him.
Stone lifts and shifts, and the whole army stops, watching the might of the king’s power as he moves entire walls and erects new ones, changing the relic into a completely new structure.
His magic transforms the ruins into a blocky castle that looks more like a fortress, with a single square tower at the front and a pointed roof that reaches up like it wants to stab the sky.
When the building settles, something heavy settles in my stomach too. I glance behind me, watching more soldiers flow in from the bridge. Up ahead, Badges are shouting for the army to form around the new fortress, probably waiting for the king’s next orders.
They’re talking, some gathering around the burning piles where the smoke is coming from. At first, I think it’s to keep warm, but then I notice the shape of those smoking piles, and I realize they’re…bodies.
No wonder it smells so bad.
I swallow down a gulp of bile, my eyes moving to the new building. The king is in there right now. All I’d need isoneopportune moment. One second of him being caught unawares.
A stupid, terrible idea, but…I can’t simply leave. For one, I’d most definitely be caught by flesh-eating Gore monsters. And two…what about Orea? What if I have a chance to kill the king and end this?
“Dammit,” I mutter beneath my breath. Why did my Vulmi parents raise me to be so damn honorable?
My eyes dart around, and when soldiers start breaking off in different directions, I make my move. Not back toward the bridge, but toward the fortress instead.
I’m either going to somehow kill a Stone King, die trying, or…hopefully some third option that I haven’t quite thought of yet, but one that doesn’t involve getting murdered or eaten alive.
I’m particular about the not getting eaten alive part.
I shoot up a quick prayer to Dronidylis, the goddess of favor and filch. Because if I’m going to somehow steal the king’s life, then I’m going to need all the favor I can get.
CHAPTER 52
EMONIE
The fortress Carrick built isjust as gray as the sky. It doesn’t surprise me that the king felt the need to make it. He’s always been a show-off when it comes to his magic.
Fae love power, and we also love judging power. We can be quite critical about it. Even now, when so much of our population’s magical ability has dwindled.
But there’s no denying that King Carrick has the magical might, just like there’s no doubt he wants to show it. To stake his claim on this world.
