The wide stairs of the entrance had long been turned to glass. The plaza beyond them, however, was still untouched by my cursed presence.
I put a foot forward, stepping on a cobblestone. A joint gasp of the onlookers rustled through the air. To my relief, only that stone turned to glass, sparing the rest of the plaza. I walked across, making sure to step on one stone at a time and leaving as narrow a trail of glass behind me as possible.
My people shied away from me as Maren and I passed. Their fear was not unfounded. I had the cursed ability to murder every single one of them here with just a sweep of a hand. They were undoubtedly aware of all the deaths I had already caused. They might’ve known personally some of those I had murdered over the years. They might have loved ones among those I’d killed...
That thought alone would’ve sent me back into the palace, never to emerge from its glass walls again if it wasn’t for Maren. I’d told her I’d accompany her on her way to Arnon’s. I might not have given her a formal promise that would kill me if not fulfilled, but I was going to fulfill it anyway, no matter what it cost me.
The crown that I broke, the palace that I ruined, the title that I cursed. I would’ve given it all just to hold her hand right now. But such a bargain could not be made. So I drew in a long breath and kept on walking.
The heavy stares of the onlookers pressed down on me, squeezing the air out of my lungs. Once again, I turned to Maren for courage and distraction.
“What was so important in that purse of yours that you had to have it on you at all times?” I asked casually, as if we were alone.
“Oh, many things,” she replied, matching my breezy tone. “Credit cards, my driver’s license, my passport... I always had my passport on me, just in case. Car keys and my apartment key, of course. My laptop, my iPad, my phone...”
“Many things, indeed,” I said.
None of what she listed made sense to me, but I was glad to simply hear her calming voice.
People scurried out of our way like a receding tide, leaving whispers in their wake.
“The cursed king...”
“Look at the rocks under his feet.”
“Don’t let him touch you.”
“And his human pet...”
I flexed my jaw, gritting my teeth so hard it was a miracle none broke. Disrespecting me was a crime I could overlook right now. But disrespecting Maren? That warranted a punishment far more severe than a quick and easy death from my touch. I should order their heads cut off, but not with an axe or a sword. No. It’d be a saw. A dull one too.
Anger and apprehension swirled inside me, blending into a tornado ready to erupt.
Maren cleared her throat and raised her voice, speaking over the hushed whispers, “So, I’ve been meaning to ask all day. How did that owl speak? Is it like a parrot? Has it been trained?”
I blinked, yanked out of my bloodthirsty thoughts.
“No. Not trained.”
“Explain it to me, please,” she insisted, as if it was the most important thing to discuss right now.
But maybe it was? Maybe that was exactly what I needed to hold me back from committing bloodless carnage that would leave this plaza littered with broken glass instead of people, and me racked by lifelong regret afterwards.
I took the lifeline Maren had thrown to me. With my hands clasped behind me, I cast my eyes skyward and said, “A parrot or a parakeet is trained to repeat words for the amusement of its owners, whereas a snow owl is a messenger. They’re not the same. The owls only speak to the person who the message is intended for, and they say the message just once. That’s why it’s important for the sender to keep the message clear and concise and for the receiver to listen to it carefully as it will not be repeated.”
“Interesting. Is that how communication is normally done in Olathana?” My brave little savior chirped brightly at my side, ignoring the cautious stares and hostile whispers that bombarded us from all sides. “I mean, the ocean is vast, with reefs and islands scattered over it, and no roads or wires to keep them all connected.”
“The ocean is vast. And the islands are many,” I agreed. “But we don’t normally use snow owls in Olathana. We communicate via sealed vessels made of glass or clay and transported by water. Waves and currents are easier to control for sirens. Snow owls are actually the preferred messengers in the Dakath Mountains, the kingdom of gargoyles. Odine, my mother’s royal hag, has a bird of her own. I suspect she prefers to use the owl over a vessel when she doesn’t want the message to fall into the wrong hands, especially since I can’t fully feel or control the water.”
We reached the end of the plaza and came to the path that would lead us across the islands, over a few bridges to my uncle’s palace.
The path was almost deserted. Most pedestrians had run away as we approached, only one woman had been slow to follow them, backing away from us on Maren’s side.
“Good evening.” Maren beamed at her. “How do you do?”
“G-good evening, my lady.” The woman tripped over her feet as well as over her words.
Maren offered her a hand in support. But the woman stared at it suspiciously, as if expecting it to set her on fire or...well, turn her to glass.
