Page 128 of A Broken Throne of Bronze

I watch the city of Slyfell become smaller and smaller.

Then I turn around and face what lies ahead. Gripping the reins, my destination sits at the forefront of my mind.

And I picture Viridian’s face.

Iride through the night and into the afternoon.

At some point, I start struggling less and gain more control of the horse. Leaning my head back, I look at the sky, relieved that the horse I unknowingly chose was easy to handle. For all I knew, I could have ended up with one as stubborn as I am. If that had been the case, I surely would have gotten caught and been hauled off to the city jail to rot.

But I didn’t. And now I’m one step closer to Viridian.

That’s what matters.

Tugging at the reins, the horse—who, in my tired ramblings, I’ve decided to call Storm because of his gray coat—slows. We approach a small farming town, called Hylmfirth, that marks the half-way point between Slyfell and Keuron. In the distance, I see a linear, wooden structure, with a wide mouth that delves into the earth.

A mine.

Uneasy, I dismount and guide Storm into the town. Every fiber in my body urges me to get back on and ride as far away from this place as I can. Still, I press on. Both of us need food and water if we’re to make it to Keuron.

Though, there’s an apprehension that I can’t shake.

Something isn’t right here.

I want to dismiss my anxiety, to think that I’m just tired. That I need to sleep, and when I wake, I’ll be able to think straight.

But I only take one step into the town when a chill trickles down my spine, only confirming my discomfort. The air is heavy with a foul stench, and I wince when it reaches my nose. Even Storm shakes his head, as if in some feeble attempt to dispel the odor.

Resisting the all too familiar sensation, my lungs constrict, tight in my chest.

I’ve encountered this kind of reek before.

In the East Tower.

That means…

The dark magic affecting High Keep is here, too.

If it’s spread this far, I realize, wondering how I wasn’t able to put the pieces together before, then it’s not just any dark magic.

It’s a curse.

My eyes widen, and I clench my jaw, my upper body suddenly rigid. The East Tower’s decay, the mining sickness, the mines draining of metals, all of it…

It’s all because of a curse that’s swallowing the kingdom. Piece by piece.

My stomach clenches with waves of nausea.

I have to tell Viridian.

He has to know how far the curse reaches. How much worse it is than we thought.

And if we don’t find a way to break it soon…

How much more damage it will cause.

Highly aware of my surroundings, I move deeper into Hylmfirth. My skin crawls, and I’m itching to leave as soon as I can. As I draw nearer to the center of town, I see there are people sitting with their backs pressed to the buildings, lining the street.

Men, women, children…

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