Page 109 of The Kingdom Cursed By Iron

The fae salute Ruskin before withdrawing.

Destan is kneeling by Halima, a hand stroking her hair.

“What happened?” he asks, voice wracked with grief.

“Evanthe,” I say, placing a hand on his shoulder. “She’s the one behind the attacks. She wanted Ruskin to help her get to the stone and become High Queen again. Halima tried to stop her.”

“Why?” Destan croaks. “Why is she doing this?”

“She thinks the court needs to be punished. She…” I trail off, looking at Ruskin, wondering how to explain.

“She seems in her right mind,” Ruskin says grimly. “But she’s not the person I knew. Cebba was feeding her dark magic while she was unconscious. I don’t know if the magic changed her, or if she was already too damaged by what happened to her in Styrland, but she’s not the woman I knew as my mother anymore.”

I reach for his hand. I can’t begin to imagine how painful this is for him, but I let him know I’m here.

“What are we going to do?” Destan asks, standing and dabbing at his eyes with a handkerchief.

“Eleanor put a metal protection around the stone. Evanthe won’t be able to make herself High Queen as long as we keep Eleanor away from her.” He turns to me. “You’re the only one whose magic can undo the wards and give her access. She won’t stop until she has you.”

“What are you saying?”

“We need to get you far away so you can’t be captured. We’ll go to the Unseelie and ask my uncle to help us.”

“King Lisinder?” Destan asks incredulously.

“We need allies, powerful ones, and he is the best of very few options right now,” Ruskin says.

“All right,” says Destan. “Even though I think this may be one of your more terrible ideas.” He straightens his jacket. “I’m coming with you.”

“We need to hurry,” I say. “Evanthe might’ve burned herself out for now, but I don’t know how long we have until she comes looking for us.”

We take the time, at least, to bury Halima. Ruskin creates a flowerbed within the throne room, growing a tomb over it, with branches plaited together in a simple, elegant pattern. I feel too wrung out to cry again, but I know the sight of the lilies blooming over her grave will stay with me forever. I only regret that we don’t have her mother’s sword to lay with her, but it was lost in the sea of iron beneath the palace.

We take back passages through the palace to the stables, loading up what supplies we can for the journey, before riding out.

“Do you think everyone will get out okay?” I ask Ruskin. “I’m worried Evanthe will come after them.”

“My mother is a smart woman,” he says, bitterness lacing his voice. “I suspect she will wait to enact more violence until she’s sure she has the power to see it through.”

The shadow of the palace follows us all the way to the Emerald Forest, and I glance back at it as we disappear into the trees. From the outside, the building still holds some of its beauty—sandy stone enrobed in flowers and climbing vines. But there’s no ignoring the effect of Evanthe’s magic, the towers wearing their crowns of jagged iron for all to see.

Chapter 33

We don’t stop until we reach the spot where the Emerald Forest thins out, giving way to open countryside. Night is drawing in, and Destan and I are both relieved when Ruskin says it’s safe enough to snatch some rest. I find it hard to sleep though, watching the stars from the makeshift bed of springy moss Ruskin has conjured for me, wrapped up tight in my cloak.

Destan snores a few feet away, but Ruskin’s still awake too.

“We’re not far from Lake Irnua now,” he says, pointing at a glinting spot in the sky that helps him gauge direction. “Then onwards up the mountain trail and across the Unseelie border. She won’t follow us there.”

I nod, squinting at the glittering lights in the inky black above us.

“You know, back home there are people who claim to be able to read the stars. They say they can predict your fate from them,” I say.

“I suppose that’s what people do when they don’t have true names to attach meaning to,” he says, looking away from the sky to meet my gaze.

“I suppose.” I smile.

“Lunasworn,” he whispers, reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “Sword of the moon. It’s certainly impressive.”

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