Page 131 of Twin Crowns

Tor came to a halt. He looked at Wren over his shoulder with such anguish in his eyes, it sent a fissure through her heart.

“Please. They took my grandmother.” Her eyes filled with tears as she stumbled toward the ship. “Please don’t let them take her from me.”

Tor’s face crumpled. He opened his mouth to say something just as Princess Anika appeared on deck, still drenched in her brother’s blood. His jaw hardened, and his demeanor changed in an instant. “Get away from here, witch,” he said as though he didn’t know Wren. “You have no business on this ship.”

His eyes flashed, but Wren ignored his warning. She didn’t want his protection; she wanted her grandmother back. She staggered on. “Please! Take me instead.”

“And what would we do with you?” said Anika, her voice cruel and mocking.

“I’ve got magic, too!” said Wren desperately. “That’s what your king wants, isn’t it? A witch of his own?”

Anika’s lip curled. “You have caused enough carnage already.” She glanced at Tor. “Don’t you think it’s time for her to reap what she’s sowed, soldier?”

“I think we should stop wasting our time and resources on these shores.” Tor continued across the ladder, without looking back. “Clearly, they’re cursed.”

Anika leaned over the ship’s railing. “Well, I say we leave them with a parting gift.”

Tor stiffened. “I don’t think—”

Anika snapped her fingers. “Voldsom,attack.”

Wren screamed as a mighty snow leopard leaped from the ship and landed on the riverbank. It took one look at her, then pounced.

Wren barely made it two steps before the leopard’s claws pierced her shoulder and pulled her down onto the grass. It rolled her over with its paw, its mouth frothing as it roared. Anika roared with it, the sound turning to manic laughter as the beast sank its teeth into Wren’s side.

A bloodcurdling shriek ripped out of her. The sky blurred as her skin tore open, the leopard’s teeth sinking through muscle and bone. The beast released her just as quickly, and Wren felt the heat of her blood as it gushed out. The leopard rounded on her, sniffing at her neck. It opened its mighty jaws... then whimpered, as a white blur appeared from nowhere and barreled into it.

Elske growled menacingly at the snow leopard before ripping its throat open. The leopard let out a keening cry as it took its last breath, and Wren felt the same weakness as she lay back on the grass. The king’s ship was pulling away with Banba, and there was only one person standing on deck now.

Wren watched Tor sail away from her and found she couldn’t bear it. They couldn’t leave. Not like this. With a hand pressed against the wound in her side, she dragged herself through the grass, screaming for her grandmother. The world dimmed at its edges, but she pushed andpushed, ignoring the pain as it lanced through her.

For a long time, there were only the Gevran sails fluttering in thedistance, the world getting darker and quieter. Then a familiar pair of arms closed around Wren, tugging her back. Elske came to sit beside her, and when the last ship disappeared into the mist, the wolf threw her head back and howled.

48

Rose

Rose held a sobbing Wren in her arms as the last Gevran ship sailed out of sight.

“Let me go.” Her sister struggled feebly against her, but Wren’s arms were getting weaker and weaker. “I can’t... let them... take her.... Please... I can’t...”

Rose only held her tighter, her gaze on the wound in Wren’s side. She didn’t need her magic to know the severity of it. Even now blood seeped through the torn wedding dress, soaking the grass around them. “Be still, Wren. You’re hurt.”

Wren fought, even as the last drop of energy left her. “Please,” she said, going limp in Rose’s arms.

“We will save Banba,” said Rose softly. “I promise we will.” She laid her sister down on the grass. Her hands trembled, but there wasn’t time to take her to Thea, who was still back at the Vault; no time to second-guess herself either. It was up to Rose to save her sister, to do for Wren what she could not do for Ansel. She couldn’t lose her, not after everything they had gone through to find each other again.

She pressed her hands against the wound in Wren’s side, her magicfluttering in her fingers. It felt stronger somehow, surer. She reached for the thread of Wren’s life and found it, glowing dimly in the darkness. She kept her thoughts on it as she willed the wound to close, knitting the splintered bone and ravaged muscle back together. “You will be well,” she murmured as she worked. “I will make you well again.”

Sweat dripped down Rose’s spine as she worked, anxiety churning in her stomach as her magic bound itself to Wren. For a while, she couldn’t tell where she ended and her sister began. Only that there was a current passing between them and the healing was working, slowly, slowly. It was draining her, too. Soon, Rose’s breathing grew labored and her eyelids began to droop. When the color returned to Wren’s cheeks, Rose gave in to her exhaustion.

On the banks of the Silvertongue, Rose curled up beside her sister. “We will rise from this,” she murmured as she fell asleep.

49

Wren

Wren stood in the doorway of the west tower, staring at the blood on the stones. Glenna’s body was gone. There was nothing left but a rust-colored stain and a stray wisp of white hair. The birds were gone, too, their cages toppled and broken.

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