Page 104 of The Kingdom Cursed By Iron

“The founding stone,” I say. “I think Evanthe might be trying to become High Queen again.”

Chapter 31

It’s been only a matter of weeks since I first stood in front of this door—the one that will take me into the massive maze beneath the palace—but so much has changed. For one thing, I can open it myself now, setting the brass wheel into motion with a wave of my hand. I step through it into the cool passageway, trying to maintain a calm focus even as the world judders and quakes around me.

I’d once wondered how someone would ever find their way to the founding stone without knowing it already, but today, I realize that I don’t need to find the stone. I just need to find Ruskin.

He was in such a rush to see his mother that I doubt he’s changed out of his traveling clothes or bothered to remove his sword—and I know that blade. I’ve wielded it myself and warded it off in training. It shouldn’t be too hard to find now.

My magic manages to locate it quickly, shining like a beacon in my imagination—guiding me through the long, winding passageways. I move quickly…but as I go, I empty my pockets, turning the bits of metal I have into a thin silver chain—a guide rope to show the way.

I have an awful feeling that he is in danger, that Evanthe isn’t fully in control of herself, or else Hadeus has worked some nasty plot that they’ve both fallen foul of.

I reach the chamber with the circle of columns and see a pair of figures in the center. There’s Ruskin, standing opposite his mother. I feel a flicker of relief since he looks fine at first glance, but as I move closer, he shifts, and I see his hands are behind his back.

They’re bound in thick chains of iron, his skin red raw from where it burns his flesh. Then I see it’s even worse than I first thought, because thin streams of blood trickle down his clenched fists. There are spikes on the manacles, puncturing his wrists, driving the iron into his bloodstream.

I don’t think to stifle my gasp, and Evanthe spins round, immediately spotting me in the wide chamber. Her brows furrow, and then the ground in front of me splits open.

Two winding iron vines shoot up towards me from the earth, attempting to wrap themselves around my wrists.

I don’t think so.

I summon my magic, throwing it around the creeping metal and ripping the tendrils from the ground. I fling them across the room and they clatter between the columns, landing near Evanthe’s feet where they writhe for a moment like dying worms, before going still.

The tendrils of iron haven’t gotten any stronger since the last time I battled them. I have, though. It’s with satisfaction that I note there are clearly limits to the iron’s power. To Evanthe’s power.

Because looking at her now, it’s clear that she hasn’t been tricked or manipulated. She knows exactly what she’s doing—and from the cold, quiet anger on her face, I get the sense that she’s nowhere near done.

She’s standing by the founding stone. My stomach sinks as I realize that if she manages to make herself High Queen properly, her power—and the iron’s power—will become practically unstoppable.

“Mother,” Ruskin says, bewilderment in his tone. “What are you doing?” He looks at her like he can’t understand how they got here. I don’t either. I could almost comprehend it if she’d been driven mad by the iron, twisted into someone out of control. But that’s not her.

“You need to make me your heir, Ruskin,” Evanthe says, keeping one eye on me. I risk stepping closer to the circle, and she throws up a hand.

“Be careful, Miss Thorn. It’s better you don’t get involved in this.”

“My lady,” I say, hoping she can be reasoned with. “Can’t you see you’re hurting him?” I gesture to Ruskin’s hands, still suffering under the grip of the iron.

“You need to make me your heir, my son,” she says again. “I’d compel you if I could, but I took part in your true name ceremony, so your name is useless to me. But that doesn’t mean I won’t find another way to…persuade you. You must make me your heir. It’s the only way the stone will stop resisting me. Mark my name on the stone, and I’ll be able to pass the trials.”

I stare between them, trying to understand what’s going on here. Ruskin wanted to make Evanthe High Queen all along, and was willing to take this step to do it, so what’s changed? Why would Evanthe show her cards now? It occurs to me that Ruskin must’ve suggested postponing her coronation once more when he saw her, in response to the fresh iron. Little did he know, she wouldn’t have been able to tolerate that, not after all her quiet waiting. So, she decided to push the issue—forcing him to step up. But what then? She can’t believe that Ruskin will sit back and let her become monarch now he knows she’s controlling the iron. So how does this end for her?

The answer comes to me as Ruskin shifts his wrists, grunting with discomfort as it jostles the iron spikes in his pierced flesh.

She’s going to kill him.

That’s the only way this makes sense; why she wouldn’t care that Ruskin knows what she’s up to. Being the heir might make it easier for her to pass the stone’s trials, but once the king is dead, the stone would basically have to choose her.

“Ruskin, she wants you dead,” I warn him. “If you put her name on that stone, she’ll kill you so she can inherit the throne.”

Ruskin looks broken but unsurprised, like he’d been waiting for his world to collapse in like this.

“Yes, I deduced as much.”

“Why would you want to do this?” I ask Evanthe in disbelief. “He’s your son.”

She bows her head as if acknowledging my point. She even looks sad as she does it.

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