1
HANNE
With my wrists bound together, I was secured inside the carriage with the door locked.
Vulgaris wouldn’t allow me to ride horseback, not when he knew I would do anything—and I mean anything—to get out of this. The carriage rocked back and forth when one of the wheels rolled over a rock on the path. The journey began in the morning and was mostly unremarkable. I looked out the window through the bars to try to determine where we were, but all I saw were trees and more trees, nothing to give me any indication where we were.
Hours passed.
I was given no water or food, treated like a prisoner instead of a queen.
When the sun had begun to lower over the horizon and the sky turned into a beautiful collage of orange, pink, and purple, the carriage came to a halt.
This was it.
The door was unlocked, and the guard grabbed me by the arm to yank me out of the carriage.
I shoved him off. “I’m cooperating, asshole.”
The other came up behind me and cut the bindings that secured my wrists.
Vulgaris dismounted his beast of a horse, midnight-black with a matching mane, a war-horse. His cape floated behind him in the breeze. He was dressed in all black, but the darkness of his uniform couldn’t match the evil in his eyes.
They were blacker than the Depths.
He stopped before me. “Leave us.”
The guards all stepped away, out of earshot.
So he could incriminate himself freely. “I didn’t want it to be this way?—”
“Yes, you did.”
He shifted his eyes back and forth between mine, cold and calculating as always. Whatever he was going to say would have been rehearsed and sterilized. “I warned you. All you had to do was look the other way and keep your head down.”
“Well, I’ve never been good at either of those things.” This was the moment when I should beg for my life, to plead for any affection he might have for me in his heart. But I was too damn proud for that. They told me a woman couldn’t be queen of a kingdom, but I faced my death with more courage than any man would in my place. But that didn’t matter. He’d taken the crown and the keys—had stolen everything from me.
He raised his arm and gestured to the massive hole fifty feet away, a crater with no bottom, pitch black even at the surface. “After you.” The opening was the size of a small village itself, a physical manifestation that even the brightest minds couldn’t explain. Most assumed it had been placed by the gods.
I knew he would go nowhere near the edge because I would push him into it—or take him with me. A gust of wind blew through the grass then hit me. My light brown, nearly blond hair flew behind me, and my cobalt eyes stung with tears. “My father is rolling in his grave right now.”
He said nothing to that, completely emotionless. “Try to run, and you’ll be shot.” He looked past me, to the guards he’d brought to escort me here.
I turned, seeing two of the guards step out of the line and put arrows to their string before they pulled them back, making the string taut with pressure. The tips of their arrows glinted in the light, and I could easily picture my blood dripping from the point.
“Go,” he ordered, fully prepared to never see me again, to sleep soundly that night, guilt-free. His cape flapped in the wind that rushed over the open plain, and not a hint of reservation was visible in his ruthless eyes.
I took a step away and then another, turning my focus on the massive black hole in the center of the grass. Its existence was an abject mystery, and some people attributed it to ancient sorcery. Another gust of wind blew by me, and my hair whipped up and smacked me in the face before I turned into the wind to get it out of my eyes.
Vulgaris watched me with a ferocity that bordered on hatred.
I stepped closer to the hole, close enough that I could peer into the center. I expected to see the bottom, expected to see some kind of texture or light or substance. But it was sheer black, no sign of light, like the hole connected all the way to the other side of the earth.
This was the option I’d chosen, but now that I was face-to-face with that decision, I faltered. I’d never seen one of the chasms this close, never contemplated jumping into one to my death. Now my feet halted as the fear gripped me and I second-guessed this whole thing, but the alternative…was to have my head cut off.
A palm hit me hard between the shoulder blades, and I flew forward, stumbling at the very edge with too much momentum to resist. One foot slipped, and then I slid over the edge into the black abyss. On instinct, I pushed off the side and projected myself toward the center, afraid I would hit my head on the side on the way down.
In just a second, I was consumed by the darkness. Couldn’t see my arms as they flailed about me, couldn’t see my feet as I kicked wildly, falling like a stone into the center of the earth.
