Page 71 of A Crown of Darkness

He swayed back and Lark caught him before he could fall. Witchkind indeed, both of them.

‘He sees things that will happen,’ she informed the knights solemnly. ‘It may not be clear but it’s always right.’

A seer, Finn thought. Dear light, what would the maidens make of a seer like that?

Nothing, because Robin was a boy. They’d make him give up his magic and send him on his way. It could have been worse. In Ilanthus they would have killed him in honour of the Nox. How had it all become so wildly twisted and wrong? How did anyone even start to go about setting it right?

He tried to focus again. ‘They’re going to crown Wren in the Sacrum with that Ilanthian crown and break magic apart, that’s what you mean? Perhaps they think it will release the old magic,perhaps they just want it all gone. But who is doing this? Oriole in Sidonia said she had sisters.’

‘Alouette in the College of Winter said the same thing,’ said Olivier.

‘So they have someone in Pelias as well. Another sister. Someone who persuaded the council to give the city up to Ilanthus. But who would do that? Not Lady Ylena, surely? Who else would have the power?’

‘If Leander already had Wren, that might have been all the leverage he needed,’ Olivier reminded him. ‘But the knights, Finn, our brothers-in-arms…what happened to them? You’re right. We need Roland. Our people will follow him in Elodie’s name and he may be the last chance we have.’ He drew in a deep breath and then his eyes widened as Lark took his hand and squeezed it in her own. Olivier seemed to shiver for a moment and then cast her a reluctant smile. ‘All right. I’ll do it.’

CHAPTER 40

WREN

Metal pressed against her throat, cold and sharp. It bound her wrists as well. Shadow-wrought steel. Wren knew that without looking. She could feel it, seeping through her, dragging her will and her magic from her. It was worse than the bracelet. So much worse.

But that wasn’t the most terrible part of it.

Her shoulder burned as if acid was dripping down onto her from on high, creeping through her veins. Her skin felt hot and tight and when she moved, a spear of pain shot through her.

The shadow kin had subdued her and taken her somewhere, far from the forest, but she didn’t know where.

The room was dark, and cold. So cold. It ate into her bones and left her shivering.

Wren tried to breathe calmly, tried to still her racing heart and focus on where she was and what she knew.

But it was dark and everything hurt and in the back of her mind all she could hear was the Nox howling.

It was over. It was all over. She had lost.

She felt another great spasm of pain tear through her exhausted body as the poison of the shadow kin took anotherbite from her soul. If they couldn’t make her into the Nox willingly, they would do it this way, with poison and malice.

A gentle hand fell on her forehead, soothing and caring, like Elodie’s hand long ago when she’d fallen sick with a fever or hurt herself in some way. Wren couldn’t even open her eyes properly or focus on the figure beside her. It didn’t matter. Hot tears leaked from her eyes, burning and blinding.

‘Hush, my dear girl,’ her attendant murmured. She knew that voice. Remembered it. Somehow. But the world was twisting and unsafe and she couldn’t let herself go back to it. Here in the darkness she could still fight. If she concentrated hard enough she could cling to some last part of herself.

Couldn’t she?

‘It will be over soon, child. Just let go. Then it will all stop.’

No. Never. She couldn’t let that happen. The Nox was rabid with need and hunger, ready to be unleashed on the world again and she couldn’t let that happen. She dug in with the tattered remains of her own sanity to keep it on the other side of reality. She had to.

Oh but it hurt. Everything hurt.

She just wanted to give up. To sleep. To make it all go away.

‘Wren,’ the woman’s voice, so familiar, so soothing, so calm. ‘Wren, my love, let go.’

Somewhere a door banged open and Wren felt it reverberate through her whole body. She jerked against the sound and tried to fight even harder.

‘What’s taking so long?’

Leander’s voice. Sharp and needy, bitter. Light, she despised him.

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