Page 51 of Princess of Death

I felt my hope kindle from a dead fire.

“But the cost is great. So great it’s not worth paying.”

There was no price I wouldn’t pay to save my wife. “Where is the dead forest?”

Her eyes shifted back and forth between mine. “You’re too pure for such evil.”

“Where is the dead forest?” I repeated like I hadn’t heard her.

“To the north. Ten leagues from where we stand. You’ll know when you’re there.”

I snatched the vial off the counter and headed to the door. “Thank you.”

I paid for a horse from the stables and rode north through the afternoon. The steed was fed and well rested, so I made the trip within a day, arriving at my destination at sunset. Gael was still with my sons, and he would worry when I didn’t return by early evening. But he wouldn’t look for me, would stay with my wife and sons because he knew that was my priority.

I knew I was in the right place the second I arrived.

All the trees were dead, like they’d been burned.

All the terrain prior to this had been lush and full in the heat of summer. But the skies above this forest were dark with rain clouds. The ground lacked any foliage. It was bare except for dried timber and rocks and dirt.

I tied my horse to a tree and made my way inside, unsure what to look for. If I weren’t so desperate, I wouldn’t have taken the word of a madwoman dressed in shawls who ran a shop of potions. Instead of traveling here, I could have been home with Anya, but I hoped with insanity that this myth was actually true.

I moved through the forest, dark and dank, an eerie hum distantly audible.

“Your purpose is a stampede of wild horses. Your intent is the beat of war drums.”

I stilled at the deep voice infecting my ear like a disease.

Then he appeared, in the midnight-blue uniform of a king, protected by black armor, short blond hair and eyes like the sea. Despite the fairness of his complexion, he had a hardness in his eyes full of malice.

My heart started to run at the speed my steed had traveled here, but my face maintained its apathy. My wife’s impending death was the worst thing that had happened to me, and it made everything else seem insignificant—even an encounter with an evil god.

“You do not fear me.” He smiled slightly.

“There is only one thing I fear—and it’s already come to pass.” The only thing worse would be the loss of one of my boys. It didn’t make me grateful that tragedy had chosen my wife instead, not when it should have chosen me.

“Most men come to me with greed in their hearts. They desire power and riches and revenge. But you’re prepared to pay a heavy price for someone else’s gain. Quite admirable.”

“How do you know this?—”

“Because I know everything, Callum Riverside.” There was a sudden change, a flash that came and went quickly. He was a man one moment and then a monster with horns the next—or perhaps my eyes played tricks on me. “I will spare Anya’s life, but it comes at a heavy price. I will rid her lungs of thedisease that slowly kills her. Her lungs will forever ache from the damage the infection has caused. But she will live.”

“Then we have a deal.”

His eyes smiled first, but then the mouth followed. “You’re either very naive or very desperate.”

“She’s sick because of me.” I didn’t want her to die, and I didn’t want to live with the guilt either.

“Because she braved the storm to get your son help,” he said slowly, like he was watching the scene behind his eyes. “Yes, you would have survived the cold without complication, but she was too delicate to do the same. She’s not nearly as strong or hearty as you are.”

The guilt frothed up my throat and into my mouth. I felt my lungs ache for air because it hurt. If I’d just stayed home, all of this could have been avoided. I was the one who should have cared for our boy—not her. I’d failed as a father. I’d failed as a husband.

“These are my terms,” he said. “Your soul for all eternity. To do my bidding without free will, to serve me in darkness forevermore. Your actions will be unspeakable, but you will have no choice but to commit them—over and over.”

“But she will live.” I clung to the hope instead of the darkness.

“Yes,” he said. “And when you return home, you will tell her that you’re leaving—not this life for the underworld, but your marriage for another woman. At her weakest, you will abandon her and your sons and walk out the door forever. You will never tell her the deal that you made with me, and if you do, the deal is void.”

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