His ribbons circle his temples, shame and death twined around him like a distorted crown. But when he lifts his head to meet my eyes once more, I find only pure madness. “You are losing yourself piece by piece to this island, Darling.” He tilts his head, tracing every detail of my face. “I saw it the first moment in the Crocodile.”
His words release a deluge of emotions careening through my veins. “Maybe that’s because I’ve been doing thisalone!”I shout, stepping away from him. But I find it no easier to breathe, as my shadow sidles up behind me to wrap around my throat.
Shame fills my mouth like bile, and I choke on its acid. “You were supposed to rule at my side and youleft me.” The shadow grows in time to the expanding hollow in my chest. “And now you swoop back in and dare to judge the toll it’s taken? Thetitle youforced on me? If I’ve ruined the beauty of your precious island, you only have yourself to blame.”
Niko’s eyes flash. “Willa, that shadow—"
“Ismine!”I shout. As if in demonstration, the shadow billows through me. And this time I don’t fight it. As its malignant hunger fills every dark crevice, I realize Pan was right—it feelsgood.It slides between the cracks in my heart, fortifying it against Niko’s promises. It slips from my eyes, so there are no more tears. Only darkness.
He is just like the rest of them,my shadow whispers.He cannot abide the truth of you. He only wants to strip pieces of your power.
Ravenous hunger rolls over my tongue and rattles against my bones. It slips into the golden pool of magic behind my heart like droplets of ink, staining the light of possibility with the malevolence of reality.
“Leave Letum, Niko. Before I’m forced to show you just how dark my shadow truly is.”
“Willa, wait—”
The Carrion King reaches for me, but it’s too late. I gather my shadow and my heartbreak and my rage—the only pieces of myself still large enough to grasp—and paint myself far away from Niko.
A moment later, I am stumbling over the soft grass of the Grove. I sink to the ground beneath the twinkling lights of the tree-city, pressing my head to the damp forest floor. The will-o-wisps float down from the branches to tangle in my hair, the comfort of their soft hum buzzing in my ears as I kneel, vulnerable and exposed. I stay like this until the icy scent of Niko fades; until I breathe only the scent of earth and leaves.
And then I allow the tears to fall.
Chapter twenty-seven
The next morning, I wander through the tree-city with no particular destination in mind. My shadow follows, and though it behaves as a usual shadow would, its presence is heavy. It pulls at me with every step, dragging me backward as if my feet are mired in mud.
I wonder if it has always been this exhausting to bear, or if I am only more aware of it now. I saw it through Niko’s eyes and somehow, it was worse than my own.
I came back to save the only beautiful thing in the world from ruin.
Niko came back to the place of his suffering—baptized himself once again in unending pain—all to save the island fromme.I wasn’t worth living with his pain, but Letum is. And it hurts far worse than his death ever had.
The sun has barely peeked above the horizon, its rays not yet hot enough to rouse most of the Grove awake. Despite the upheaval in my head, I try to enjoy the quiet. The soft buzz of the will-o-wisps, the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze, thedistant rush of the waterfalls at the city’s edge. I brush the petals of flowers with the tips of my fingers, my heart expanding at the way they reach for me.
The blooms do not know of the darkness in me; they are simply drawn to the island’s magic, no matter what lives alongside it.
It should be a relief—proof of my right to rule Letum—but it only cinches the anxiety in my chest tighter, like at any moment, the flowers, the people,everyone,will discover I’m a fraud.
“I don’t thinkfraudis in a flower’s vocabulary,” Adira quips from behind me.
I let a breath leak through my teeth, turning toward the Princess of the Wilds. She is as ethereal as ever beneath the natural magic of the Grove. Draped in elegant fabrics colored the same jeweled tones as the leaves, her tawny skin glows in contrast to the painted designs mimicking the flow of the forest. Her silken hair hangs down her back in a shining black curtain, and her feet are bare but for the delicate silver bracelets draped around her ankles.
“How would you know?” I grouse petulantly. “Do you speak flower?” Adira opens her mouth to reply, but I hold up a hand before she can. “You know what…don’t answer that. It’s too early for Neverland nonsense.”
Adira shrugs, as if to say,suit yourself,and reaches a finger in the air toward a cluster of will-o-wisps. One by the one, they float down toward their princess, their delightful little hum vibrating louder as they land along her hands and trail up her arm.
“You arrived quite late last night.”
It takes me a protracted moment to realize Adira is speaking to me, and not the little faeries. I shift uncomfortably beneath her odd gaze, resisting the urge to yank the collar of my cloak up around my throat when those gray eyes brush over my freshly healed skin. There is no remaining physical evidence of whatNiko did, but as her attention lingers, it feels as though she sees the slash somehow. Shame burns my cheeks, even as I try to shrug it away.
“Yeah,” I reply, keeping my attention on the will-o-wisps, as if it’ll somehow save me from Adira’s prying magic. “Thanks for keeping the Silva Lucai from attacking me on sight.”
Adira’s laugh is a melodic tinkle, and the little orbs of light shiver in pleasure. “The Grove has always held space beneath its boughs for those seeking respite.”
A lump lodges in my throat, and without warning, tears sting my eyes. Perhaps I was doing as she suggests and seeking a moment to breathe. But in the light of the morning, it feels more like stumbling backward into the terrified girl I’ve been for two centuries. The one that runs away instead of facing anything that could hurt her.
“Your mind feels so heavy, Willa. What burdens you so?” Adira asks.
