Page 316 of Kingdoms of Night

There are no gates beyond the bridge, just a wall of dark, imposing rock. Fear clutches my insides when Dryan doesn't stop, riding his monstruous beast right into the wall. I've only time to close my eyes, and then we're on the other side.

Dryan finally slows his mount as we enter a city, the roads paved with smooth blue stones.

I've never seen a place like this before, not even in a dream. Each house leading up to the castle is black as night, made from the same stone as the rock we're perched over, yet thick, luxuriant foliage grows along the walls.

My poor limbs note that for the first time on the journey—for the first time in days—I'm warm. Heat burns my frozen nerves, as painful as lemon on an open wound. If I weren't so weak, and in this much pain, I might have admired this strange city. As things stand, I'm not certain it isn't part of my imagination; the last dream of a dying mind.

My eyes close as we ride down a large avenue leading up to the imposing castle atop the rock, and I don't have any reason to hope they might open again.

CHAPTERSEVEN

The first clue I'm not dead is that everything hurts again, fire and ice fighting for dominion within my flesh. My skin's freezing, my head, boiling and thumping like it's housing wild horses.

I open my eyes to another unfamiliar room, dark and cavernous, with a dozen floating candles around me. I find myself almost fully submerged inside a metal tub filled with ice-cold water—only my head remains above the surface.

I move to stand.

"Shush, shush, now. You stay in there for another few minutes, you hear? At least until your body cools down."

I hadn't noticed anyone in the room when I woke, and I still don't, though the voice seems close. Squinting my eyes, I stare in its direction and find the shadow of a woman, flickering in and out of view with the light.

My jaw falls open. "Are you a ghost?"

The woman snorts. "And here I thought I was dealing with a woman, not a child. Ghosts are dead, not see-through. I'm a crystal hag. Drink this."

She shoves a steaming mug into my hands, and I wrinkle my nose when I take in the smell of mud and rot. The appearance is worse: bubbling green slime with red specks.

"Do I have to?"

"Only if you want to live."

Do I?

The answer only becomes clear to me when I realize my hands do not hesitate to bring the disgusting brew to my lips. Apparently, I very much want to live. I'm desperate for it. Why submit myself to this otherwise?

It tastes worse than it smells or looks, but by the time I've swallowed three thick gulps, the horses in my head have stopped dancing. "Thank you."

The crystal hags both laughs and shakes her head. "Oh, the poor king. He's going to have a hell of a time keeping you out of trouble. Thank me? Ah!" She finds my simple politeness hilarious, and I feel half foolish, half angry.

"Why wouldn't I thank you?"

"The question, dear, is how you'll thank me. Clearly, you believe yourself in my debt, and you've not named the price." Her smirk is downright terrifying, the corners of her large mouth reaching far higher than they should. I notice the sharpness of her white teeth and the hollowness of her eyes. "Thank the folk and we'll take what payment we wish."

My heart skips a beat. "What do you wish for, then?"

She laughs again. "You've not stated terms, I’ll demand my payment when I want it."

By the Sun, all of that for a mere thank you?

"I'll be kind and take a lock of your hair this one time, yes?"

I'm not quite sure what to do with my mouth. Talking isn't working out for me at the moment. "What would you do with it?"

"That's my affair, child."

It should be a simple enough request, but something tells me it isn't. "Just a lock of hair, nothing else?"

The hag licks her lips. "You're a fast learner. Always clarify every bargain. Yes, I'll take a lock of hair and nothing else to clear your debt to me. Happy now?"

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