Page 130 of The Beast King's Bride

34

ASH

Passing through the gate hurts as if my insides are being pulled apart. I can’t remember this happening last time. The place on my middle finger where the ring had been all those months throbs. After tumbling and spinning for what feels like days, we splash into shallow water, sputtering and cursing, and I take deep breaths as the pain passes.

We’re through.

Pete looks all right. He laughs as he slicks his wet hair back from his face. “You curse like a sailor, Ash. And you were saying you wanted to be a princess.”

“No, I said I was a princess. Big difference.” I spit out muddy water. “And you’re one to talk. Who do you think I learned all those words from?”

“Good memory, then.” He laughs some more. “You look like a drowned rat.”

“Screw you, Pete. That’s no way to talk to a lady, I’ll have you know.” With as much dignity as I can muster, my gray traveling dress clinging to my legs, I get up and squeeze the water out of my hair.

“Where are we?” he asks.

Good question.

The gate has spit us out in the shallows of a stream, snow all around, covering the fields and trees. Turning around in a circle, at first, I panic. I don’t know where we are. We don’t have horses. Time is running out.

A bird flies in circles overhead. A raven, I think dizzily. Poe? He is, after all, a bird of the Fae.

But then I spot the city rising above us on the hill, its dark blue stone not reflecting the light. It looks eerily dark and empty, but I can’t see very well from this angle. We have to find the main street and climb up to the palace.

The gate brought us right where we had to be.

“Up there,” I tell Pete and don’t wait to see the face he’s pulling. “That’s Lindar, the blue city, capital of the Sapphire Court. Come on.”

Together we trudge out of the stream, our boots sloshing, and wring out our clothes some more. Then we circle the hill to find the entrance to the city. There is a wall and a gate, all made of that polished blue stone, but the gate stands open and the wall seems covered in velvet black moss. A stink of rot permeates the air.

“What is this?” Pete wrinkles his nose.

“The Decay. It’s the curse the Empress of Faerie put on the kingdom to weaken Talen and grab his lands and power for herself.”

“Couldn’t she find a less stinky solution?”

“I swear, Pete, this isn’t funny.” I fume as I climb up the wide street leading to the palace, passing by dark houses, their doors rattling. “He’s dying, his land is dying, and you’re making jokes—”

“Sorry, sorry. Look, I can’t believe I jumped into a well and now I’m in Faerie. I’m nervous, okay? And talk of curses and evil Empresses doesn’t help.”

“I hope you brought your sword with you.”

“See? This is what I mean. Not helping at all.”

By the time we reach the palace gates, Pete has fallen silent. The houses being dark and quiet is one thing, but the palace… Its gates stand open, snow drifting inside the courtyard, gathering at the walls. This is where I first entered the palace with Talen behind me, afraid and not knowing what lay ahead.

Nobody seems to be there.

I almost call out “hello” when Pete grabs my arm and hauls me back a step.

“What was that?” he hisses.

“What was what?”

“Listen. Just… listen.”

I glance around as a sound rises, a melancholy, ominous wail.

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