It took all my concentration, but I wrapped a clump of hair at my nape around my fingers and ripped it from my scalp. One of her vines stretched longingly for it.
Rohana’s empty white eyes watched hungrily as I lifted my shirt. I dug a talon tip into the soft band of flesh beneath my navel, pulling out a small round of bloody meat. The vine took both my hair and skin and tucked them inside Rohana’s gaunt cheek.
Her entire body relaxed, instantly satiated.
She was dragged back to the bowl, looking like a pale corpse in the lone orb light. The brown mist crested the lip, and the vinesheaved her up, holding her so her face hung above it. A rank sucking sound cut through my ears as she gulped the thick, brown fumes deep.
I could hardly see her now with how thick the mist had become. My sight began to fracture with the more breaths of it I took. I adjusted myself so that Theodore lay protected between my legs just before the orb light went out once more. In the dark, I felt like I was floating.
The voice that came was not that of a maiden. It was the voice of a crone, reed-thin and wobbling.
There is a crown. Ripped, ripped, ripped from the head.
There is a bond. Cut, cut, cut from the blood.
The queen lies drained of her divinity.
The king sits wrecked and ravaged beneath her wing.
Rohana made an awful gasping sound that droned on for what felt like minutes.
What they have made will decimate the order of all things.
I shook my head. My voice was dreamy and slow. “I don’t understand.”
Rohana cackled through the darkness.
What they have made will bring chaos. Will bring ruin. Will bring death.
Feeling disembodied and confused, I had the sensation of resting atop coarse, pleated waves. Rocking, swaying, dipping. I foughtthrough the meaning of her words and a chill fell over me as understanding snapped into place.
I was the queen, drained of her power.
And Theodore… the king.
Wrecked and ravaged because of me.
And together… Panic slipped through my body as my thoughts and fears slowly crystalized.
Together we would bring chaos.
We would bring ruin.
We would bring death.
Time stuttered. Perhaps it stopped. My vision rippled and went black. When I came to, I lay upon the floor, the gleam of orb light above me. Beside me, Theodore was still unconscious. The tinkling of glass, the hiss of smoke, the sound of all those slithering vines, filled my ears.
Sluggishly, I lifted my arm and pressed my hand to Theodore’s chest. Even, shallow breaths. I rose onto my elbow and watched Rohana working over her bowl, her bald head reflecting the sickly, yellow glow.
“Speak, Imogen,” she said, sounding once more like a young woman. “I know you wish to.”
“I want my severing draughts,” I croaked.
“I am making it.”
“I paid for two.”
“You will get one.”
