Page 4 of Crown of Ellova: Vol 1

Like a scythe has sliced the realms in two, the faint shimmer of the barrier between realms is only visible from the right angle, but the presence of two different worlds is stark at our feet. The demarcation line is visible under the moonlight that illuminates our way. We stand on the soft green grass filled with small white flowers at the edge. Behind us is the rich green forest overflowing with life and magic, but we face nothing but dirt and rocks, a blanket of death.

A sea of barren trees with branches more akin to bone than bark stand at odd angles, hanging listlessly. Small piles of snow that have yet to melt are scattered across the ground.

Nueena frowns down at dead grass that has started to creep under the Divide like black veins burning its way into the Merawood Forest. “The darkness is spreading.” She kicks at the blackened soil. “The enchantments protecting the forest should not have allowed this. We need to tell my parents that the wards are failing and the magic is being siphoned again. They should see the corruption for themselves before I secure the wards.”

“Could it be something else?” I bend down to run my fingers over the inky veins that branch out from one another like a lightning strike.

“The stolen fae crown King Jedrick wears is the only magical item in the mortal realm but I can think of no other reason this would be happening again. The wards have stood for thousands of years.” Nueena’s lip curls in disgust when the wind picks up, carrying the overwhelming smell of damp dirt and rotting wood from the broken branches that litter the forest floor in front of us.

Nueena’s expression is solemn as I prepare to cross. Her scent of raspberry, vanilla, and lilies envelops me as we wrap our arms around each other. “Be safe,” we say at the same time, sharing a small smile of reassurance when we pull apart.

I try one last time for her to return to the safety of the palace. “You don’t need to wait for me. I’ll be fine.”

She scrunches up her nose and shakes her head. “Someoneneeds to know where you are and when you return.” She pulls a blanket from her satchel and lays it over the bed of flowers at her feet.

“We will be right here.” She sits, and Farren moves to follow me, but she gathers him up in her arms.

I nod, giving Farren one last chin scratch, and pull Onyx into the mortal realm.

CHAPTER 2

Istep over the Divide and barely manage to stay upright, taking a shallow breath of the suddenly freezing air.

A cold sweat breaks out over me as I am drained of the magic that has coursed through my veins since birth; it dissolves within me, the sensation almost painful. My breathing is heavy as my fae essence vanishes temporarily.

Without that warmth in my veins, my body feels achingly empty.

My gasping breaths join the howling winds that greet me and I lean on Onyx for support. Shivering, I grasp the soft fabric of my winter cloak, pulling it tighter around my body. The forest’s icy grip digs into me; winter eternally resides here.

I roll my neck from side to side, trying to adjust to the familiar hollow feeling, and turn back to Nueena. She holds a struggling Farren, who whines in her arms, his blue eyes locked on me.

“I’m all right,” I say to both of them and give a final wave.

Tucked inside the cart is a corked bottle. The cool liquid reaches my lips as I drink the sweet water greedily. Healing magic lingers in the crystal-clear waters of the Airvell Spring in Ellova, and a rush of energy returns to me, warming me from the inside.

I ride Onyx alongside the dusty riverbed. With no foliage on theground, Onyx has nothing to distract him, so he continues at a lazy pace, seemingly unbothered by the change in scenery.

Slowly, the kingdom of Adreania’s enormous black ironstone wall appears in the distance, standing nearly fifty feet tall. It wraps around the mortal kingdom of Adreania, once desperate to keep out any fae with its hideous iron fortress, but now mortals are more like prisoners.

The massive wall is an obsidian monument of hate.

Onyx and I ride to the densest part of the dying forest, where I let him rest for the night. My nails drag across Onyx’s shining black coat; I scratch behind his ears and run my fingers down the side of his face. He twists his head to bump the side of my body playfully as I breathe in the ever-present scent of sweet hay on his mane and whisper, “Stay here.”

In the distance, a few apathetic guards walk at an idle pace atop the wall, with nothing to do and no one to watch for. To their knowledge, the decrepit forest outside has been empty for centuries.

The only official opening is at the main gate on the other side of the kingdom, facing the Elbasan Sea. My secret entrance is concealed in plain sight between two thick trees that stand ten feet apart. At the base of each tree is a long wool cover, glued with dirt and brown leaves that hide the large wooden door. I slowly haul up the creaking door to reveal a tunnel just big enough for two with a sharp ramp. Once I am inside, I tug two levers; one closes the door and one maneuvers the covers back into place.

The hidden tunnel, only known to my family, was built by my father and his brothers over a hundred thirty years ago. The brothers built it to save their sister, who was exiled to the Merawood Forest for a crime she didn’t commit. Later, it was the only way for my father to visit my mother and me at the cottage.

I run my fingers over the worn wood as I pass, a memorial to a mortal man who loved a fae woman and their half-fae child until the very end.

My fae eyesight helps me to navigate the cart easily in the dark that leads me to my cousins’ back door. I hold my breath, unable toavoid the frigid water that drips on me while passing under the wall.

Leon wanders into my thoughts. Seeing him for only a few moments each month has never been enough time.

Ever since I stupidly fell for him the minute he walked up to me in that crowded ballroom two years ago, it was clear that knowing him was going to be as much of a blessing as it would be a curse. Leon is a wonderful man whom I will never be allowed to know in anything more than lingering glances and a few stolen moments.

Guilt pulls at me for every lie.

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