Page 3 of The Cursed Kingdom

They make it halfway across the park before Abby abruptly spins and plants her hands on her hips. She studies Lillian from head to toe, silently evaluating.

“Are you really a faerie?” she asks.

Aaron tells her those things aren’t real, but she’s not sure if she believes him. He’s a bit of a liar. Besides, Lilliancouldbe a faerie. She’s got weird, purple eyes and white hair. Abby doesn’t know what faeries look like, but she supposes Lillian could be one.

A few tense seconds pass before Lillian gives a jerky nod.

“Yes,” she says. “I’m a real faerie.”

Abby knew it. Aaron’s going to be so mad.

“Do you have powers?”

Lillian shakes her head. “No.”

Oh.That’s less cool. Still, Abby begins leading Lillian to her home. Her mom is cooking dinner, and she’ll be able to read them the instructions on the back of the bracelet box.

Chapter One

ABBY

MY BACK HURTS, and I pause to stretch it out before pushing open my apartment door. It squeaks, the hinges in desperate need of grease, and I make a mental note to call the maintenance man tomorrow.

Quiet classical music is playing throughout the apartment, and the lights are dimmed. I already know what that means, and I frown as I shut the door and kick off my shoes. Lill loves sunlight, especially the afternoon light that streams through our front windows.

She must not be feeling well.

The messy entryway proves it. Lill’s sensitive about her inability to work, and she’s made it her life’s mission to scrub our apartment floor to ceiling during the weekdays. I come home to the smell of lemon cleaner and dinner practically every day.

I smell neither today.

I reorganize the shoes on our rack, stalling, before heading down the narrow hallway leading to the kitchen and living area. Our apartment is small, and I force a smile onto my lips as I walk the seven steps into the kitchen.

The curtains in the living room and kitchen have been drawn, which explains the dim lighting. It must’ve been hurting Lill’s eyes.

She’s leaning against the kitchen counter, letting it support her weight as she mixes herself a drink of delysum tea. A black migraine mask is wrapped securely around her head, the gel-filled fabric lifted just enough for her to see her hands.

She hasn’t noticed me, and I’m careful to keep quiet as I inch forward and peer into the open canister on the counter. She keeps her special tea hidden in her room, but I want to know how much she has left.

This is her last canister.

I take another step, my heart lurching when I see how little remains. Almost three-quarters of the canister is empty.

She only needs to ingest a small amount of delysum to sustain her magic and survive in the human realm, but she’s quickly running out. Her mother never intended for them to remain here this long, and she didn’t grab enough during their escape from the faerie realm.

Callie may be long dead, but I’ll never forgive her for her short-sightedness.

I clear my throat, alerting Lill of my presence.

She jolts, spinning around with wide, panicked eyes. The fear vanishes when she realizes it’s just me behind her, but not before I see it.

I used to joke that she could hear a mouse scurrying up a wall from three rooms over, but her senses are dulled now that she’s cutting back on her already-too-small dosage of delysum. I try to keep my worry out of my expression, but I can tell Lill recognizes it.

She carries the weight of her guilt and shame in her shoulders.

“How are you feeling?” I ask before she can yell at me for startling her.

Lill straightens her spine and stands tall, but I see through it. She’s extraordinarily beautiful, but it’s obvious that she’sunhealthy. She’s always been thin, but she’s lost so much weight this past year that she’s nothing more than skin and bones. It’s jarring, and even her once-bright white hair and violet eyes are dull.

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