Page 25 of Curse of Darkness
A prison.
And a hooded figure waiting for me by the lake within her cave, staring out over the dark waters as though she hasn’t heard me.
I know she’s aware of me.
In a way, she’s won. She’s brought me back here, even after I swore I would never see her again.
My hands curl around the crown.
“You’ve been ignoring me,” she whispers as I stride down the shale-lined path toward her.
“I have what you want. I brought you the crown. And with this, our pact is done. You have no further claim upon my daughter.”
The Mother of Night turns, her hood slipping back from her face.
And I can’t stop a gasp.
She was always beautiful, with flawless skin and dark infinite eyes. Patient eyes. But now the right side of her face is blackened and charred, though little embers seem to eat away at the smooth edges where skin meets scab. It’s like the fire still burns within her.
“What… happened?” The words fall away, because Iknowwhat happened to her.
When the Horned One was unleashed from his prison world, he threw a blast of raw magic toward me, and she stepped between us, shielding me from the explosion.
I’d thought…. She was always reputed to be the only Old One with the power to stand against the Horned One.
“You know what happened,” she says, touching her cheek with a slight wince. She takes a limping step toward me. “I warned you that you were not strong enough to face him head-on. No one is. No one ever was. The Horned One was once the protector of my kind, but when the fae came, he tapped into the raw current ofala—the power that fuels the world—and he drank of it. It darkened his heart and turned him away from all that we were. All that we were reborn to do. It is forbidden for a reason.”
I catch her arm, and her weight staggers against me.
There’s nothing left of my anger.
Only shock.
“Here. Sit.” I ease her onto a rock and hesitate. It’s been over eight days since the Horned One was set free. “Do you need healing?”
It’s the one small gift I was always able to access, though my skills with it are rudimentary.
The Mother shakes her head. “Nothing will heal this damage, Iskvien.”
“What about this?”
I offer her the crown.
It’s powerful enough that one of the fae can channel the power of the leylines—tapping directly into the magic that belonged exclusively to the Old Ones.
“Use it.” I curl her fingers around the golden prongs. “It’s yours now. I have fulfilled my promise to you: The crown in your hands in exchange for my daughter’s life.”
Her hands cup the crown, and she looks at it for a long moment, before she sighs and hands it back to me. “Your debt is forgiven. But you misunderstood me, Iskvien. I never meant to use the crown myself. It was always meant for you.”
The cave falls away from me.
Some of my confusion must show in my eyes. “But I can’t—”
“Come,” she says, taking my arm. “Take me to the waters of remembrance.”
I lead her slowly toward the shallow well where she showed me the truth about her people.
Fog fills the small well, little lights twinkling within it.
