So I run, my arms and legs pumping, my speed increasing.
Every beast in this forest is now my prey.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Thyra
I’m alone for the first time since my father died. Antony may have commanded me to stay in his sight at all times, but it seems he’s allowed to break his own rules.
Now that he’s gone, I should probably feel safer, but somehow…
The silence in the forest is unnerving. Broken by the sudden calls of birds and the low, keening sounds of what could be predators or prey.
I’m not used to these sounds. I grew up with the constant whoosh of ocean waves, a lulling roar.
Reaching for the other side of the blanket, I give in to the need to pull it over myself to block out the artificial starlight and the distant calls of nocturnal animals.
Luckily, there’s enough slack in the chain to move freely. I’ve already pulled the right side of the blanket over my lower half, tucking my right arm outside it, and now I succeed in cocooning myself fully.
Taking deep breaths, I force myself to acknowledge whythe silence is most painful to me: My father’s voice doesn’t break it.
I hear him now as if I’m a little girl again and he’s tucking me in, making sure I feel safe, even if my bed is nothing more than a blanket on hard rocks.
Sleep well, Thyra, and know that my Sight will protect you.
Hot tears burn behind my eyes, but…
I don’t have to hide them now.
Finally, I can let them fall.
With trembling breaths, I whisper the last rites I didn’t have the chance to perform today, wishing I could rewrite those final moments when I closed Father’s eyes.
“For he shall See no more.” My lips barely move, so deep is my sorrow. “For he shall embrace the future as we are left in the past. His visions, spoken and unspoken, will now rest in silence. They are not dust, nor darkness, but a dream of what could be. It is not the end. For one day… He and I will See again.”
Closing my eyes, I sob into my blanket, knowing this could be my last chance to feel what I need to feel before my fate swallows me once and for all.
The Dragonstone Blade is cursed. I know that now.
What’s more, I’m certain the False Queen’s malevolent spirit lives on within it.
Her spirit wants revenge, and she will use me to get it, even forcing my features to transform and become…
I grimace against the blanket.
Beguiling.
It makes sense to me now that my father forbade me from touching the blade. The moment I picked it up, the curse seized hold of me.
What I can’t reconcile is that he didn’t try to destroy the blade.
But, of course, maybe hedidtry.
The blade’s power is breathtakingly strong. For all I know, he attempted any number of times to melt the metal down or break it apart.
I, myself, tried to trigger the ruby circlet to saw through the blade, but, with a harsh laugh at myself, I’m certain now that the blade would have protected itself.
As for getting rid of it, perhaps Father decided it was better to keep it close than to risk it passing into malicious hands. A blade like this would not stay in the dark for long.
