We passed a grove of trees twisted inside out, their bark facing inward, roots clawing toward the sky. She eyed them warily but didn’t slow.
“The kingdom’s histories call it the War of Unmaking,” I continued. “Reality tore at the seams. Entire cities vanished into pocket dimensions. It took three generations, and the sacrifice of most of the Veil-touched bloodlines, to repair the damage. Many humans died alongside them.”
“Most of them?”
“A few groups survived. Barely. The survivors went into hiding. They bore children in secret. Passed down just enoughknowledge to preserve the bloodline, but not enough to repeat their ancestors’ mistakes.”
She was quiet for a moment, processing. “Where are they now?”
“Long gone. You’re the last of your kind.”
I regretted the bluntness as soon as the words left my mouth. She didn’t falter, but I caught the slight tightening in her shoulders.
She was accustomed to hiding pain.
“How do you know all this?” she asked.
“Because I’ve spent the last ten years researching everything connected to the curse that’s killing me.” The admission tasted like ash, but she deserved honesty. “The same bloodline magic that nearly destroyed the world is the only thing capable of breaking the chain binding the Thorne line to the Hollow Throne.”
“What kind of chain?”
The familiar cold settled into my bones, the whisper of shadows not entirely under my control. “The kind that ensures every heir dies before their fortieth birthday. The kind that’s been draining my life force since the day I was born.”
She stopped walking. “You’re dying.”
“We’re all dying. I’m simply on a more aggressive schedule.”
“How long?”
The question hovered between us like a blade. I’d never spoken the truth aloud, never even fully admitted it to myself. But something about her made honesty feel… possible.
“I’m not sure. That depends on you.”
“Me?”
“Yes. My life depends on the choice you make.”
“You think I can fix it?”
“I think you’re the only chance I have.”
She seemed to have enough answers, for now. The conversation stalled, and a brief wash of relief moved through me. She wasn’t ready for what came next.
We continued in silence, following what had once been a trade road connecting villages. Now it wound through landscapes that defied reason. Trees grew sideways. Grass whispered secrets in languages older than human speech. A stream flowed upward, its water dark as blood.
She handled it all with admirable composure, though I caught her flinching when the grass tried to coil around her ankles. Smart enough to be afraid, but not paralyzed by it.
Perfect.
“What makes you think I’ll help you?” she asked finally.
“Because killing my father serves your interests as much as mine. He murdered your mother. He would have used you as a weapon against innocent people. He deserves to die.”
“Lots of people deserve to die. That doesn’t mean I’m going to start collecting their heads.”
“Even if it means freeing the kingdom from a tyrant?”
She laughed, sharp and bitter. “The kingdom that hunted my people to extinction? The kingdom that calls me a monster for existing? Why would I care what happens to it?”
