Isadora’s eyes widened and she inhaled sharply. “Uncle Iago mentioned Niro. He said he’d been studying him for years and had finally discovered his secrets. What did your mother tell you?”
Anders pinched the bridge of his nose, thinking. “It was something about being blessed. Amma reminded me of it, she said that Maia blessed the people with warmth and radiance. I think my mother told me the same thing. That someone graced with shadows, like me, and someone blessed with light, together they’d be able to break the curse.” He grunted in frustration, fistsclenched at his sides. “The pieces are all there, I just can’t work out how they fit together.”
Livia stepped out of Isadora’s embrace, her expression thoughtful. “What if it isn’t literal? It could simply refer to someone from the Northern Isle and someone from the Southern Isle. Maybe it just means we need to work together to figure it out. Shadow and light, two sides of the same coin.”
Chapter 23
Anders
Anders shook his head, pacing. “No. If the story is just a metaphor, then how do you explain my shadow magic? And why does this strange, hidden realm exist? No, I’m convinced it means more than that. We just need to figure out what, exactly.”
He glanced around, hoping his gaze would fall on something—anything—that might help them to unravel the mystery and escape the magical world the Duke had trapped them in. Instead, he noticed an eerie tableau across the lake. The masked suitors and the ten ballerinas stood on the opposite shore, eyes turned towards Isadora, Livia and Anders. The sight sent a shiver up Anders’ spine. But none of the figures moved, not one dancer climbed into the remaining boats, they simply stood and stared, frozen by the enchantment.
A thought dawned on Anders. “Are those the other princes who’ve attempted to break the curse?”
Following his gaze, Isadora nodded. “Yes, that’s them. And the rest of our dance company.”
Livia gasped. “We have to help them! We can’t leave them here, they’ll be trapped forever if we don’t take them with us.”
“Of course, Liv.” Isadora put a hand on her sister’s arm. “We’ll find a way to lead them out, I promise.”
Anders recalled something he’d drawn in his sketchbook, one of the memories he’d scribbled down on Amma’s advice. In the picture, Isadora had been dancing with a masked man who bore a striking resemblance to himself. But, what if...
“Issy, was one of the princes who disappeared Prince Hans of the Northern Isle?”
Isadora looked taken aback. “Yes. Do you know him?”
“He’s my brother. I need to get back across the lake. You two stay here and try to find the way out, perhaps it will appear for you.” He strode towards the jetty where the two lantern-lit boats waited.
“Anders.” Isadora’s tone made the breath catch in his throat. He looked back at her and noticed the way the moonlight shone on her face, illuminating her features. She looked like a beacon of hope, and for a moment, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. She pressed her lips together, worry etched into the line of her mouth. “Be careful.”
He nodded. He wanted to promise her that he would be back shortly, but he couldn’t bring himself to make a promise that he may not be able to keep. Not when her golden-brown eyes shone in the dimness like precious metal, and his heart hammered a tattoo against his ribcage at the sight of her.
He knew how she felt about people from the Northern Isle, she’d made that much clear, but he couldn’t help but wonder if there was a chance—even a slim one—that she might be willing to consider him as a suitor someday. If he returned to the Gilded Palace, after all this was over and done with, as a Silver Prince.
He made his way to the boat and climbed in. To his relief, the vessel began to move almost immediately, steering him slowly back across the glassy lake towards the obsidian castle. When he reached the shore, he leapt out and began to move quicklybetween the statuesque figures, scanning the faces of the dark-suited men, peering at their vacant eyes behind the elaborate masks.
A shock of pale hair caught his eye and he darted towards it. As he stood in front of the unmoving blonde Prince, he felt his throat begin to thicken. It had been over five years since he had seen his brother. He swallowed hard and reached forward, gently taking the embossed mask by the corner and peeling it away from his brother’s face.
“Hans,” Anders said, casting the mask aside. His brother’s eyes fluttered, seeming to clear, and finally they focused on Anders’ face.
“Anders? Is that you?” The Crown Prince of the Northern Isle’s voice was rough from disuse, but Anders would have recognised it anywhere.
“Brother,” he breathed, and the two embraced tightly, the years of distance, shame and loneliness falling away as Anders inhaled the familiar scent of his older brother.
“Where are we?” Hans asked, pulling back and looking around at the castle, the strange metallic trees, the dark lake and the silent crowd of dancers and suitors gathered on the bank.
“It’s a long story. I need your help to get these people out of here. But, first, I need to tell you something. It’s about me. About the war. I—” He hesitated, looking into his brother’s clear blue eyes. Could he tell his brother the truth? Would Hans forgive him, or have him dragged in front of their father and put to death for his cowardice? Anders swallowed. He would never know if he didn’t try. “I hid. I let my comrades be killed while I hid in my shadows and waited for it to be over.”
Anders studied his brother’s face, waiting for his expression to change, for the anger and disgust to appear in his eyes. But it didn’t. Hans only took him by the shoulders.
“You survived, brother. That's all that matters.”
All the air rushed out of Anders’ lungs. “It is?”
Hans smiled. “Of course. We thought you were dead, Anders. Father, Mother, all of us. We heard about the massacre in the east, we were told there had been no survivors. Mother has been heartbroken ever since that day.” He shook his head, a crease between his brows. “Whatever it took to keep you safe, to bring you back to us, it was worth it.”
Anders’ voice broke as he said, “I feel such guilt. I feel as if it’s my fault they’re all dead.” He looked away, blinking hard as tears threatened at the backs of his eyes.
