Page 25 of The Cursed Kingdom

I take a bite of food, my eyes rolling back. This is amazing. The sauce is sweet, and the flavor is unlike anything I’ve ever had. Truly delicious.

Samuel eats slower than me, and after scarfing down a few bites, I force myself to match his pace. I don’t want him to knowI’m hungry. It’s none of his business that I’ve spent the past day and a half tromping through a giant prairie.

The map he created is still up, and I take this time to try to memorize it.

The walk to Farbay will be a bitch, but it’s right up along the forest. I’ll have to find a way to sneak in, but I’m sure I can manage that.

I just have to hope I don’t become shifter chow.

I repeat my earlier question. “Why are the princes heading to the portal of the gods?”

I have no idea who the princes are, but I don’t really care. It doesn’t matter to me.

Samuel finishes chewing before answering. “It’s the only portal that leads to the gods’ realm.”

“The princes can’t just create one?”

“No,” he says. “The only way to see the gods is through the preexisting portal.”

“But why do they want to go there?”

Samuel shrugs. “Can’t say I know for sure, considering I’m not privy to the inner workings of the royal court, but there are rumors that Prince Kieran wishes to speak to Zaha before his coronation.”

I tap my fingers against the table before finishing up the rest of my meal. Every answer Samuel gives only brings about more questions. Who is Zaha? And what would Prince Kieran wish to speak to them about? I suppose it doesn’t really matter.

Samuel lets out an exaggerated sigh before continuing. “It’s believed the shifters are again cultivating and harvesting the delysum that grows wild in the forest. They’re turning it into weapons, and Zaha is the only god powerful enough to stop it.” He shakes his head. “I don’t believe she can, though. I think she weakened herself when she destroyed the shifter kingdom,and now she’s powerless to help us defend ourselves against the shifters.”

Samuel continues speaking, going on about how Zaha meddled in the faerie and shifter affairs and ruined everything for everybody, but I’m not paying attention. I stopped paying attention the second the worddelysumslipped from his mouth.

The shifters are growing and harvesting it into weapons? Against whom? The faeries? I don’t understand how it could be used as a weapon, considering it’s what’s keeping Lill alive.

Samuel trails off, eyeing my empty bowl.

“We need to get a move on if you want to get your gloves,” he says. “The stores will be closing soon.”

I completely forgot about the gloves. Samuel grabs our bowls, sets them on the platform, and then closes the map he created. The landscape shrinks until it’s replaced with the small, dark shard of glass it started as. It looks so unsuspecting, and I drag my fingers through my hair as he shoves it back into his pocket.

“Are you ready to go?” he asks, standing.

Did he pay? I don’t really care.

I need these gloves, and then I need to get to Farbay. Nothing I learned today will change my mind or deter my plans. I’m going to find my way into the Redstall Forest, and then I’m going to discover where the shifters are growing delysum and steal or purchase as much as I can physically fit on my person.

Chapter Nine

ABBY

I KEEP CLOSE to Samuel as we walk down the narrow street, heading to the store he claims sells gloves. I want to ask more about delysum, but I’m hesitant to do it in such a public setting. Besides, Samuel is already suspicious of me. Digging deep into the plant the shifters are currently harvesting into a weapon probably isn’t my best move.

Faeries are beginning to pour out of the buildings, and I scan everyone we pass. The men are almost all in dark, muted, linen clothing, and the women are in cotton dresses. They’re simple and loose, relatively unassuming, but I don’t let it fool me. Before Lill got so sick, she was strong. Freakishly strong.

These people may look normal—ignoring their stark-white hair and violet eyes—but we are not the same. I’m at their mercy.

Most we pass don’t pay me any mind, but the few who do seem friendly enough. They shoot me polite, closed-lipped smiles or subtle head nods, and I can’t help but notice how their gazes almost always dart to my hands.

I need to get those gloves.

“Are there a lot of humans here?” I ask Samuel.

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