Page 125 of Crown of Briars
Something within my stomach lurched, and I found myself tumbling forward, my yell drowned out by a roaring sound that surrounded me. I tried to find Azure, to call for help, but she had vanished.
I landed in a heap on the leafy ground, my head throbbing and my bones aching. With a groan, I climbed to my feet, the jeweled rose still clutched in my hands.
It was daylight, and I no longer stood in the forest, but on the steps of the castle. It looked different, though—there weren’t as many turrets and towers, and the forest behind the castle was more lush than I remembered.
Before me stood a fae with brown skin and long black hair. Were it not for his pointed ears, I might have assumed he was human. His dark eyes and strong chin were so familiar.
He turned, and I bit back a gasp. His features reminded me of Varius. But this fae had a wider nose and a permanent scowl that made him look far older than the king I was accustomed to.
My breath caught in my throat as I staggered backward, waiting for this strange fae to attack me.
“King Ragnus,” said a voice.
I whirled and found another fae standing just behind me. He had pale skin and a mop of red hair atop his head.
“The witch is here,” he said, pressing a fist to his chest.
Ragnus sneered. “Bring her forward.”
My heart seized in my chest, but neither of the fae seemed to notice me at all. They didn’t even glance my way.
Several soldiers dragged out a figure in rags, her wild gray hair a tangled mess around her. Blood and soot covered her face and hands, and she groaned when they tossed her to the ground before the king.
My eyes grew wide, and I found it difficult to breathe. I gazed down at the gleaming rose in my hands, suddenly realizing what it was.
It was a keeper of memories. This, right here, was a memory.
This king must have been Varius’s ancestor. And the figure in rags… was the witch who had cast the spell, plaguing the land with Necro Shadows.
But why did everyone look so different? None of these fae looked unseelie like Varius’s court.
Tentatively, I lifted my hand and waved it before me. No one blinked or even looked my way, just like with the vision in the mirror.
“Can you hear me?” I shouted, my voice ringing in the courtyard.
Still no response.
Relief settled in my chest. I was not in immediate danger. I drew forward to get a closer look at the witch. She had vibrant green eyes and sallow skin. But when she looked up at the king, her eyes were full of venom.
“What will you do with me, oh great king?” she spat, her voice dripping with rage. “Will you kill me to fulfill your barbaric mission to obliterate an entire race?”
King Ragnus bared his teeth at her. “Your magic has been ablight on this land! Should I stand here and do nothing, after all the suffering you have caused us?”
“We were only acting in defense!” she bellowed. “Your soldiers were slaughtering my sisters!”
“Lies,” Ragnus hissed.
“I cannot lie!” the witch cried. “I have fae blood, just like you.”
“You are nothing like the fae, foul witch,” said the king. “And your unholy magic dies today.” He looked up at the red-haired fae. “Bring the shadowstone.”
From within his cloak, the fae produced a familiar black stone. My pulse quickened as I realized it was identical to the stone that allowed me to conjure images in the mirror.
Shadowstone.Did that mean the gem was native to this court? If so, why did I find it buried in the caves of the Earthen Court?
The fae servant laid the shadowstone on the steps at the king’s feet. Shadows poured from Ragnus’s hands and coiled around the shadowstone, which began to glow. It was no longer black—now it was slate gray, and it thrummed with power.
“From the magic of this stone, I call forth your power, witch,” said Ragnus, his voice resonating around the square. “I draw your magic and pull it into me for the good of this people and this kingdom. Let your strength flow with mine, forever joining the magic of shadows.”
