The carriage rolls gently over the mossy forest path, sending shadows rippling over the high angle of his cheekbones, the slashes of darkness illuminating swathes of his pale skin while entirely consuming others. The contrast gives him a spectral appearance as he stares out the window, ethereal and intangible.
His avoidance of me is both a blissful relief and profoundly infuriating. Something shifted between us last night in the wake of nightmares. I’d given him a piece of my truth, and he’d allowed me a fraction of his. When we laid in his bed, it was with the most vulnerable parts of ourselves spread in the spacebetween us. We’d seen each other at our weakest moments—laid bare and broken—and found an intimate balance in that.
But this morning, the King of Carrion is as enigmatic as ever. When I entered the dining room, he’d looked at me like he’d eat me alive. And now, after his confession that he’s the only one on the island capable of taking a life, he’s hardly deigned to speak to me at all.
“Are they sentient? The will-o-wisps?” I ask, mostly out of spite. If he wants me to help his precious island, he’s going to have to realizehedoesn’t make the rules anymore. He doesn’t get to retreat into himself, sink into his own pain, and leave me on the surface alone.
“In their own way, I suppose,” Niko answers offhandedly. “Though no one’s ever figured out a way to speak to one, so it’s hard to say for sure.”
His death ribbons have settled on the floor at my feet. I smile to myself as I watch them vibrate cheerfully, swirling after each other in a macabre game of chase. Befriending personified death probably indicates a myriad of unresolved issues, but I’ve grown to appreciate their cool companionship. They have a distinct presence, ice cold but also cozily weighted, like the dark of a winter’s night.
The heaviness presses in around me, relief from the heat roiling through my veins at every moment of the day, borne of rage and powerlessness. It soothes the tightness of my skin, the unsettled hollow in my chest that expands and contracts with each of my breaths. A dark solace to fall into.
Though they don’t feel like solace to Niko—they feel like purgatory. Perhaps it’s because he saved me from my own hell last night that has me feeling merciful, or perhaps, it’s simply inane sentiment. Either way, it keeps me from turning away and allowing him to drown in his agony, to suffocate in self-loathing and bitterness.
“If you aren’t up to this today, it’s okay,” I tell him gently. “We can go another time.”
It’s the wrong thing to say, but I’m not at all sorry for it, as it causes Niko tofinallylook at me. His eyes glint dangerously, and his fingers dig further into his muscled thighs like he’s grounding himself in more pain. Painhecontrols, I realize, to shield himself from the pain he can’t.
“Do not fool yourself for one moment into believing the nature of my condition makes me some weak sycophant in need of coddling,” he says in a voice so tight, my skin goes cold. “I’ve been ruling Letum longer than you’ve been alive. And besides,” he narrows his eyes with a predatory intensity I’ve come to recognize as an indication he’s going to strike. “Gentle pity doesn’t fit you, Darling. I’d prefer your cowardice to insipid kindness.”
He means to wound me, but I only grin smugly. Niko may know the way under my skin, but I’ve learned the path to his just as well. “Good to know the pain hasn’t soured your natural charm, Your Putrid Majesty.”
The corner of his mouth twitches.
“And I don’t think you’re weak. I think you’re sulking. Quite unseemly for a king, don’t you think?”
Niko doesn’t smile, but he doesn’t look away again either. Like now that I’m under his attention, he can’t bring himself to yank it away. His gaze is horrible—it sucks the breath from my lungs, fits itself beneath my ribs. It pulls and pulls, ravenous and demanding.
And though I squirm beneath it, I still want it. Not just want it—cravethe electrifying spark that ignites every time he looks at me. I’m too cowardly to examine why—if it’s because he personifies the very thing I chased for so long but have always been denied. Chased so furiously, my very dreams drove me to the rooftop night after night trying to achieve it.
The carriage comes to a stop, but Niko doesn’t move. He’s gone completely still, but for the swipe of his tongue over his lower lip. My entire body heats as I follow the movement, and his eyes flare as he drinks in the abrupt flush of my skin. For a wild moment, I think Niko will lunge to taste the flush for himself; give in to the ravening desire and fucking devour me.
And for an even wilder moment, I desperately want him to.
But then something shifts in the fathomless depths of Niko’s eyes, and his face goes cold and hard. The tension in the air between us ices over, and without a backward glance, he ducks through the carriage door out into the darkness, his ribbons flapping behind him.
I hike up my skirt furiously and leap from the seat, unsure whether I’m about to chase after him to demand he finish whatever the hell he just started or run in the opposite direction. It has to be the latter. I haven’t lost my mind enough to truly want anything to do with the King of Carrion beyond the power he can grant me.
A few pretty words and a nice gesture aren’t enough to change that he isn’t to be trusted. He’s no different than anyone else in my world. Niko doesn’t see me;he sees what I can do for him. I’ve lived through enough to know the difference.
Once I figure out how to use my magic, I won’t be beholden to him or anyone else. I’ll be truly free for the first time in my life.
My thoughts abruptly dissolve as I glance around Adira’s home. I can’t spin my head fast enough, nearly tumbling down the carriage stairs in my excitement to take it all in. I’m only spared by Niko’s steadying hand at the small of my back, the warmth of him discernible even through his thick gloves and my cloak.
I yank away from his touch with an indignant snarl to which he responds by bowing sarcastically. But I’ve no interest in a snideremark in the presence of such a striking place, choosing instead to gape up at the natural beauty spreading overhead.
The trees of Adira’s Grove are larger than any I’ve seen. They’re as wide around as the skyscrapers of my world and so tall, they appear to reach the swirling skies above. Vines hang from the boughs, themselves as large as usual trees, in natural verdant curtains that shroud the borders of the tree-city from the outside forest.
Nestled high in the leaves, some of them lofty enough I have to squint to see them properly, are sprawling residences built into the branches. Their construction follows the natural lines of the forest making it nearly impossible to delineate where the trees end, and the homes begin. Their exteriors are carved in spirals matching the spread of branches and painted with the exact colors and patterns of the foliage around them, both an echo of the forest’s beauty and a shrine to the spirits of the trees themselves.
Bridges span the spaces between structures, a tangled web of walkways layered stories above us like the threads of an intricate web. Orblike lanterns are strung throughout, odd blue fire crackling merrily in the confines of the glass. Will-o-wisps dance in the air, both on the ground and high above, congregating together in small, dancing bunches that float softly on the breeze.
Despite the inherent peace, the forest-city bustles with soft activity, much like the wood itself. People dart between houses, their voices ringing over the walkways. A few bars of music spill out from a window high above our heads, the melody entwining with a soft exhale of laughter from somewhere lower.
I close my eyes, just for a moment, letting the sound wash over me. Music was one of the first things to die when the plague began, which makes such terrible sense after Niko’s explanation.Death of imagination, loss of wonder and hope. And what is more hopeful than song?
When I open my eyes, it’s to find Niko already deep down the mossy path that meanders through the center of the city. I hurry after him, but even as I fall into step beside him, he keeps his gaze straight ahead.
