A THRONE OF SHADOWS
BOOK ONE
1
When Cora dreamed, she dreamed of castles. Not the storybook variety with shining turrets and glistening marble columns, but dark towers brimming with even darker magic. These castles held no masked balls, boasted no gilded statues or impressive tapestries. Instead of fancy footmen fluttering about the halls, the corridors were empty, black, and soundless. All that existed was afeeling, a deep and hollow knowing that something wasn’t quite right.
In her dreams, Cora could do nothing but follow this sense of unease, this wrongness that existed outside of her, calling to her like the mythical sirens of fae lore. It was a silent song, one so chilling it made her hair stand on end. Still, she could do nothing but follow. Follow. Meeting dead end after dead end.
The feeling intensified, growing heavier, tugging her bones until it bore down upon her like a leaden weight. She knew she should stop following the feeling. Knew she should turn around and forget the dark pull. But even when she tried to forget, tried to turn around, the feeling only drew nearer. Soon the halls closed in, inch by inch, until they narrowed down to a single corridor, one that ended in the same door no matter which way she turned.
A rattling sound echoed around her. Glancing down, she found it was coming from the serving tray she carried. A teacup trembled against its saucer. Her hands were shaking even more.
The door loomed ahead of her, gaping like a hungry maw.
Against her will, her feet moved toward it. Too soon she stood in the dreaded doorway. As she saw what lay beyond, she felt as if she’d known all along. There was a bed. And upon that bed…
Blood. So much blood.
A scream shattered the air, piercing her eardrums.
She shook her head, trying to rid her eyes of the sight and her ears of the blaring shout. It grew louder. She blinked several times, but that only brought her closer to the bed. The blood was no longer just in front of her but all around, dripping from her hands. The sharp tang of it filled her nose, seared her throat.
Then a question filled her mind, the voice angry and familiar.
What have you done?
The scream intensified.
It was coming from her.
Cora openedher eyes but all she could see was black. Two weights pressed down upon her shoulders—hands—and she flailed against them, fighting the unseen assailant who restrained her.
“Cora, quiet, you're safe.”
The voice leached the fight from her bones. She went limp beneath her friend’s touch, pursing her lips against the screams that still crawled up her throat.
“It's just me,” soothed Maiya, stroking the damp hair away from Cora’s forehead. “You’re home. It was just a bad dream.”
Cora gritted her teeth and breathed away the remnants of her terror. In its place, anger grew. Not at her friend but at herself. She was supposed to be stronger than nightmares. She was a witch, after all. Witches were meant to be powerful.
“I’m sorry,” Cora muttered, finding her voice far weaker than she liked. Wiping furiously at a few errant tears, she rolled onto her side and buried her face in her blanket. Maiya gave her shoulder a light pat and returned to her cot at the other side of the tent they shared. Even in the darkness, Cora could feel the other girl’s eyes burning into her.
“Did you take your sleeping tonic last night?” Maiya asked, caution heavy in her tone.
“Yes.” She’d brewed it herself. Stronger than usual.
“Is…is something wrong?”
Cora remained silent because she had no answer. This was the third night in a row she’d woken screaming from this same terrifying nightmare. Such dreams plagued her on occasion but never with such alarming frequency. Her sleeping draught was normally enough to drive them away.
“Would you like to tell me about your dream?” Maiya asked, trying to sound nonchalant but failing miserably. “Perhaps I can help divine its meaning.”
Cora ignored her. Not because she didn’t trust her friend. Maiya was probably the only person she trusted with her whole heart. She was like a sister to her, one of the very few people Cora had let herself grow close to ever since she was taken in by the Forest People six years ago. But Cora’s burdens were hers to bear. Besides, Maiya was a witch too and growing proficient at dream divination. What if her abilities had grown beyond the realm of dreams? Cora couldn’t risk her discovering any of her secrets. It was too dangerous for them both.
Without another word, Cora focused on slowing her ragged breathing until it settled into a gentle rhythm. Hoping Maiya would fall for her ruse and think she’d drifted back to sleep, she kept up the act until she heard her friend’s soft snores. Only then did she let herself remember the dream.
A dream that felt like a memory.
