“How about just a word?” Adira hums innocently. “Perhaps, aname?”
“Isanyonegoing to tell me what in star’s name you’re all talking about?” Tiernan huffs in annoyance, gaze volleying between the three of us.
“No!” Willa fumes, fisting her skirts to wring out a puddle of water at her feet. “It doesn’t matter, and it changes nothing.”
“If you say so,” Adira sings beneath her breath, earning a furious glare from Willa.
“It changesnothing,”Willa repeats slowly, “because I am still queen whether the island wants me or not.” She breathes in deeply, like she’s attempting to gather her armor around her.Made of iron and rage, it has served her well as queen, but the sight of it evokes a deep sorrow in me. I know the cost of such strength.
“Tell me what I’ve missed while I’ve been gone.”
It’s an order, not a request, and a part of me is relieved that Willa has not been entirely broken by what happened on that ship. Relieved that she did not turn and flee into the wards, never to be seen again.
“After you severed the Aeternalis’ control, the sirens swam the children to shore as you requested. You’re going to owe thema lotof treasure for that one, by the way.” Tiernan’s mouth twists. “Or I am going to owe one of them some very precarious, uh…play time.”
The tips of his ears go pink, and he clears his throat, continuing, “The Indomnitus sits on the horizon, but the Everlasting has not been seen on shore since.”
Worry wafts from Willa in noxious waves. My magic unfurls, rubbing up against it in soft caresses, stealing the anxiety from her chest and peppering it into mine.
“I want to move the children until we’ve contained the Aeternalis. He can’t get control of them again or…” Her words trail off, but none of us need her to continue. We’ve all seen the consequences of the Aeternalis at his full power.
“What about the Lunaedon?” Tiernan offers.
The shadow behind Willa shivers in pleasure, and an unrelenting hunger washes over the space between us.
“No,” Willa snaps. She shakes her head, inhaling sharply, and the shadow stills like she’s wrestled it back under control. “I mean…The Aeternalis is infatuated with me. He’ll be much more likely to come after wherever I am. I think the Grove would be better.”
I watch the queen for a long moment, getting the feeling that isn’t the true reason she doesn’t want the children in the palace.But Adira inclines her head. “My people would love to have them again.”
Willa nods in relief. “After Dreaming’s Eve then.”
“About the festival…” Addy begins, watching Willa with an unreadable look. As if she, too, has noticed the odd hunger of the shadow behind her. “It is tradition that the king of the island bestows the people with a gift of magic.”
Willa pales. “Magic?” she repeats faintly.
Adira nods. “There was a time long ago when the Strayed were simply children who’d come to live out an adventure. And their king was simply a boy who didn’t want to be alone.”
Longing threads through Addy’s voice—it is a deep shade of emerald green, and when it rolls over my skin, I ache.
“In the beginning, the island was at peace. A world of whimsy and adventure, where everything wild bloomed and thrived. The vines were so healthy back then. They sprawled the entire expanse of the Hollows, beneath both the land and the sea. They were our connection to the mainland, to the dreams of children, and we revered them. So the king, who loved such fun, declared the night of their bloom to be a celebration for the kingdom.”
I breathe in Adira’s wistfulness, letting it sink between my ribs to tangle with my own.
“The island would come together…pixies and nymphs, sirens and naiads. Dwellers of the Grove and city. And together we would have a night to celebrate the possibility of dreams. Before the bloom, the king would give everyone a gift of magic. A tribute to the community of the island and the possibility of the future.”
Willa looks sick, the bottom of her dress still clutched in her fist. I’m barraged with her sudden panic. It prods at my skin like sharp pokers, looking for a way into the pit of my stomach. My magic rises, and it takes everything in me to shove it back down like an overstuffed pillow.
“I—I can’t do that, Adira.” Willa’s fingers curl into tight fists at her side. “And trust me…you don’t want me to. After what I’ve already done…no one in this entire kingdom wants me to use my magic.”
“Willie…” Tiernan tries. “This is different. This is for something beautiful…for something good.”
It’s the wrong word. Willa stiffens at its utterance like the boy has brandished a sword. “I’mnotgood, Tiernan, and it’s obvious my magic isn’t either.”
The shadow behind her appears to grow larger, and if we were not in the land of death and dreams, I’d write it off as a trick of the light. But here, nightmares are real. And whatever is clinging to Willa has spawned from within them.
“I’ve been parading around pretending to be something I’m not. I’m not a good queen. I’m not a selfless leader.” Willa shakes off my magic. “A literal lord of death was a far better ruler than I’ll ever be.”
“The people saw the way you fought for them last year. You brought their home, and their loved ones back to life. A gift of magic will remind them of it,” I say softly. “And perhaps, it will remind you as well.”
