Page 17 of Curse of Thorns
I cannot even explain the things that smile does to me. My bones melt, mind frozen, heart pattering. Tung tied.
“How?” I finally get out.
She beat me. She somehow won this race, and I’ve never seen someone look more beautiful while doing it.
She chuckles darkly. “Just when I thought you’d learned to stop underestimating me.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Never, apparently.”
“I’m a shadow walker, remember?”
An inky black mist envelopes her, and an instant later she’s standing beside Killian. He rears back, shuffling and huffing uncomfortably, but Caelynn mumbles softly to calm him until he allows her to rub his nose.
“You can leap through shadows?”
“Something like that.”
“How far?”
“A few dozen feet at a time.”
I blink slowly. Wow. It’s not as good as the mile I was imagining but still rather impressive.
“It requires magic, so I don’t often use the ability if I can help it.”
I nod. It’s always best to conserve energy when possible. I hop off of Killian and adjust his reins, patting his neck. Then, I lead him forward, toward the arch.
He huffs again, jerking his head.
“Not a fan of portals, huh?”
I shake my head. “Most animals aren’t. Feels unnatural to them, I suppose.”
Caelynn nods.
I circle Killian around to give me enough distance to lead him into a trot just before we reach the portal. He resists the moment the sizzle of magic becomes audible, but the bit of speed we built allows me to pull him through without much hassle. He stamps and huffs several more times once we are firmly on the other side—a good six hundred miles away from the Luminescent Court. The trees are darker, the leaves deep green, bark thick and heavy almost as if made of stone.
Caelynn takes in a long breath the moment she stops beside us in this new land. Does she feel closer to home here? The Crumbling Court is less than a hundred miles south east of her homeland in the Shadow Court. That’s still a ways away, of course, but it’s one of the closest courts to hers.
The queen set up this portal specifically for me and my quest shortly after the games ended. It puts us only about five miles north of the Schorchedland gates. It allowed me to do some work understanding this place, especially once I realized it wouldn’t allow me to pass through.
Over the green forest, the very top of the massive wall made entirely of green vines covered in sharp thorns can be seen. It makes me sweat just being this close. I don’t fear the cursed lands or the dangers trapped inside. It’s the threat of inevitable failure that looms over me.
Ever since Caelynn brought up the idea of my father sabotaging me, I haven’t been able to stop that thought from taking root in my mind. But I’d already scoured the place, up and down the vine walls, looking for signs of some kind of unnatural curse or recent charms. There’s really not much of anything. Remnants of wraith bargains, but that’s fairly standard and couldn’t possibly have anything to do with my particular struggle.
If I cannot get inside those walls... I will forever be remembered as a failure. I will be hated. And the death of every fae in the land will be on my head. I swallow and bite the inside of my lip.
My only saving grace right now is that there has been a lull in the curse’s movement. It isn’t actively prowling through our lands at the moment. The scourge—a plague turning everything it touches into stark decay and sucking the ground of its magic entirely—hasn’t spread in weeks.
The queen has kept me mostly updated on its progress. Right now, she’s not breathing down my neck to figure my shit out because her people are not actively dying. That will change soon, and I’ll know I’ve run out of time.
“We’ll find a way,” Caelynn promises, her voice soft and comforting. I’ve heard her voice dark and menacing, stubborn and fiery. But it’s this tone that affects me the most. It sends a shutter all the way through me.
We walk down the uneven path, leading away from the Wicked Gates, and with each step, the pressure eases.
After pushing Killian hard in my pathetic loss, I allow him to take a leisurely pace without my weight holding him down.
The first mile takes an achingly long time, though part of me enjoys the relaxation. The calm forest and lack of urgency. Something about Caelynn sets me at ease. Which is incredibly ironic considering she shoved an obsidian blade through my brother’s heart a decade ago.
