“So you said,” I mutter irritably. Adira turns to gaze out the window, under no apparent inclination to provide any sort of information. Rubbing my eyes with my palms in an attempt to soothe the rapid rise of my rancor, I ask in an overtly pleasant tone, “I don’t suppose you’d like to explain what the hell a ‘Strayed’ is?”
Adira runs her fingers absently over the ivory handle of her spear, watching the subtle movement as she considers her answer. Or whether to answer at all. “There is a plague in your world, is there not?”
I nod, mulling over her words. If Adira knows the conditions of my world, maybe the wards aren’t as solid as Niko insists. Maybe there’s a way through them that doesn’t involve spending one more moment with him.
“There is a plague in this world as well. It’s of a different sort, but it is killing this kingdom just the same. And has turned many of its inhabitants into monsters.”
“Yeah,” I scoff, picturing the cruel twist of Niko’s mouth. The anger he keeps lashed beneath his skin, building and building, until it explodes out in the form of sentient death. “I’ve noticed the one ruling over the kingdom.”
Adira tilts her head, her expression suddenly grave. “Niko is a vicious monster indeed,” she agrees, “but you are a fool if you believe him to be the worst.”
Her words send shivers racing down my spine. What could be worse than an arrogant man wielding the power to kill anyone he likes? I’ve seen what men in my world do when they feel rejected or belittled, the atrocities committed in the name of their gods or their goals—and the Carrion King is capable of far worse destruction with less than a thought.
“You defend him often for someone you supposedly hate,” I observe levelly, still unsure what to make of their relationship.
“It was not a defense, only a fact. And hatred and understanding are not mutually exclusive.” Adira smiles softly. “Niko and I have a long history. I understand him far better than most would ever get the chance to. But there are some angers that even knowing cannot ease.”
My brow knits together. For all she speaks of anger, she appears to be the calmest person I’ve ever met. Even as the carriage shudders with the reverberation of another explosion, Adira gazes out the window with a dreamy expression, her hands laid loosely in her lap. Only her eyes betray her peace, that turbulent gray reminiscent of a storm on the sea.
I feel none of her peace, only her storm, as I remember the heat of the flames over the harbor and the desperate screams. And Niko out there somewhere in the midst of the chaos.
Adira snaps her eyes to mine, her sudden grin so vicious, it makes my skin itch. “Worried about the monster, are we?” She laughs, leaning back onto the satin seat. “As I said before, Willa…you deserve each other.”
My irritation flares like the spark of a match. “I don’t know what the fuck you mean by that, but stop reading my mind before I render you incapable of it. It’s a violation.”
Adira's laughter ceases, but her amusement is still apparent. “Do you know how this island grants magic to its inhabitants?”
Her question makes my heart leap into my throat and I’m almost ashamed at how desperate I am for any morsel of information. The need has me gritting my teeth and swallowing down my most bitter responses.
“It amplifies what is already inside us. What is at the base of our bones, in the threads of our hearts. My heart was an empathetic one—I could read others’ emotions and thoughts by the small changes of their faces, the little shift in their tone. It was a natural progression to actually hearing them.”
I stare at her, absorbing her words. “So, Niko’s heart…isdeath?”
“There are worse things,” the princess replies with a noncommittal shrug.
I don’t want to think about those things, the intimate horrors I know to be far worse than the promise of relief death holds. I latch onto her other words instead. “The island grants magic…Does it—well, does it grant power toeveryone?”
“No. Though no one knows exactly how it chooses. Perhaps it’s entirely random.” Adira cocks her head thoughtfully. “Or perhaps…it’s something in the blood.”
I shudder to think what my own power would be if I were reduced to the blood and bones of me. Pain. Cowardice. Abandonment. None of them very powerful at all.
Adira makes a humming noise, and I blush at what she’s heard in my thoughts. But rather than digging into my humiliation, she only says, “There is power in all things. We can never know how it will manifest.”
With that, she looks back out the window and refuses to say anything else.
A few minutes later, we arrive at the great stone gates of the Lunaedon. Just like everything else in the palace, the gates are intricate and beautifully macabre. Flowers as exquisite as the ones on the beach are carved in such detail, they appear to be growing through the orifices of the many stone skulls lining the archway. The castle itself is framed perfectly in the towering arch, its dark façade striking against the swirling sky beyond.
Adira palms her spear and opens the carriage door, stepping out into the dark. I rise to follow, but she shakes her head and nods to the winding drive. “This is where we part for now. The carriage will see you safely up the drive back to the palace.”
We’re far enough away from the city to no longer hear explosions nor see any of the flame, but the idea of Adira leaving me alone makes me oddly nervous. The palace grounds are surrounded by dense woods, the depths of which are so dark, any number of things could be hiding in their shadows.
And god only knows what’s lurking on the Lunaedon grounds themselves. Knowing the Corpse King, he probably keeps hellhounds, or something equally ridiculous, as pets.
“You’re not coming to the palace?”
“I make it a point never to step foot inside that monstrosity,” Adira replies, wrinkling her nose in disdain. She follows my nervous gaze to the trees with a soft laugh. “Don’t worry. As dangerous as Letum is, nothing would dare go near Niko’s home.”
“Because he has a heart filled with death and rot?”
