Page 106 of The Dead Queen

Thunder rumbles off the mountain’s face, and a sharp gust of wind makes me brace myself for the cold. As much as I detest this red cloak, I’m grateful for its warmth. Without it, I’d likely be dead by now.

Like Hunter probably is.

The thought feels like a stab to the gut, but it’s nothing compared to the ache in my chest over losing my best friend. No, not losing. Abandoning. I left him on the edge of a mountain surrounded by unnatural beasts and a blazing inferno. And I did it after he saved me from certain death and helped me travel hundreds of miles with a fugitive.

I feel like the worst person alive. My father being a notable exception. I’m not sure I’m worthy of my grandmother’s good name or her reputation. Maybe it’s a mercy that she’s dead, so she doesn’t have to see me stoop so low.

“Do you need to stop?” Tristan asks, a few yards ahead of me.

I’m straining every single muscle in my body to climb this damnable mountain. Meanwhile, the Wolf prances ahead like we’re on a relaxing stroll in the garden.

“No,” I snap, regretting it the instant it’s out of my mouth. I grab onto another branch to help pull me upward and onward. Even in the growing darkness, I can see the corners of his mouth turn up slightly. My foot slips on a patch of gravel and I fall onto my knees. I wince.

“You alright?” he calls, his tone clearly unworried.

I nod.

“There’s something up here I want you to see.”

All I can do is clench my jaw and nod at him from my spot in the mud. I can do this. I’ve already crossed an entire country, battled thieves and foxhounds and corpse wolves. I can handle a measly mountain range.

A white owl soars ahead of us, disappearing into the trees beyond. These woods are quiet. In Korrigan Forest, the trees felt alive with creatures scuttling, crying out, and watching us constantly. Here, there’s nothing but the wind in the branches above us. Somehow, nothing has harassed us on our journey through the mountains. But, then again, maybe no human or creature is foolish enough to make the crossing so late in the season.

Just when I think I can’t take another step, I notice Tristan standing ahead, silhouetted against the stars. He’s waiting for me at a clearing on top of a rocky outcropping.

My legs are wobbly underneath me when I step out onto the flat rock. He’s right at the edge, clearly unafraid of falling. The wind howls a song I’ve never heard before, warning of the dangers of mountain peaks and a winter that’s bound to start any day now. My hair blows wildly around my head and the red cloak flies out behind me. I inch closer to him at the edge of the cliff.

Tristan’s face is pale in the moonlight. His eyes are closed as if savoring the icy wind on his skin. He looks … calm. Even after everything we’ve been through. When I look away from his face and out beyond the cliff, I gasp.

We are standing at the edge of the world.

Spires, as far as the eye can see, are aglow in moonlight and shadow. Beyond them, stars. Billions of them. More stars than I ever knew existed. It’s as if Annwyn isn’t even under the same sky as Llwyn.

“It’s …” I’m at a loss for the correct word.

“Terrifying? Treacherous?” Tristan asks without looking at me.

I shake my head slowly, not wanting to blink and miss even a second of this view. It’s as if the world has suddenly opened its soul wide before me, a vulnerable heart in a horrifying time.

“Majestic,” I whisper, my word lost in the wind.

Tristan must hear me because he opens one eye to look at me curiously, then he lifts his hand to point toward the east. “There, look.”

I squint against the darkness until I see what he’s pointing at. In the distance is a dark slice of sea. And there, nestled upon a cliff, is a castle. It stands black against the silver moonlight. Even from this distance, I can see it’s ancient, with leaning towers and sagging defense walls. It’s little more than a shadowed ruin. But it’s still magnificent.

“Gwyllion,” Tristan says. “That’s where we’re headed. It’s the current seat of the Dead Queen.”

“It’s crumbling.”

“Everything is this far north. But it’s not as ruinous as Ellyll.”

“Yet.”

Tristan nods, deep in thought.

A cloud slips across the moon, casting the castle in shadow, like a shroud pulled over the eyes of the dead.

“This is what he wants to take next,” Tristan says quietly, beside me.