Page 133 of Twin Crowns

Rose gulped. “Stars. What happened to her?”

“Ortha killed her.”

Rose lowered herself on to the rumpled bed, hanging on Wren’s every word. “Shekilledher own sister?”

Wren’s voice hardened. “Not on purpose. But Oonagh was a monster, Rose. What else could she have done? The Protector and his menwere closing in, exploiting the growing unrest in Eana for their own gain. And it was Oonagh who started the fight with her sister on the banks of the Silvertongue. It was only by sheer luck that Ortha was able to protect herself. She struck her sister in self-defense, and Oonagh fell in and drowned. Who knows what this country would look like if she hadn’t?”

“I doubt Oonagh would have fared any better against the Protector,” said Rose. “Banba said the Valharts cursed Ortha and destroyed her power.”

“I thought so, too. But Glenna said the truth is darker. Closer.” Wren picked up the portrait of the twins and traced the frown on Oonagh’s face. “It was Oonagh who cursed her sister. As they fought, she used a blood spell so powerful we can’t even guess at it. When she drowned that day in the Silvertongue, their magic—and the magic of all the witches in Eana—splintered into five different strands. After that, it was easy for the Protector to take the throne for himself. Ortha was just an enchanter, and what could a single enchanter do against the might of a stirring rebellion?” Wren flung the painting away. “And we know the rest. After Oonagh and Ortha, nothing in Eana was ever the same again.”

“Beware the curse of Oonagh Starcrest, the lost witch queen.”The seer’s words echoed in Wren’s head.“The curse runs in new blood. It lives in new bones.”

She kept that to herself for now. There was no sense in worrying Rose after everything that had happened. But even as Wren swallowed the warning, she knew it was fear that made her do it, the terrifying possibility that the curse was rooted in a new twin of a new generation.That the darkness might one day bloom in her, too.

Rose got to her feet. “I could have sworn Glenna said something about a curse when she died. Something about breaking the ice.” She shook her head. “I can’t remember.”

“Never mind,” said Wren. “You should turn your thoughts to your coronation tomorrow.”

Rose blinked at her in surprise. “Aren’t you going to fight me for it?”

“I don’t want it anymore. Not without Banba.” Not for the first time that day, Wren thought about what lay beyond the Sunless Sea. How long would it take the Gevrans to reach Grinstad, and what would their wicked king do with her grandmother once he got home?

Banba was a fighter. She had survived Lillith’s War and the howling isolation that came afterward, living on the edge of a country determined to forget her, but for all the faith Wren had in her grandmother, she didn’t know if Banba would survive Alarik Felsing. If any witch possibly could.

She sank onto the bed, the springs creaking as she scrubbed her hands through her hair. She was weary and angry and heartbroken, and the idea of ruling anything right now, even her own emotions, suddenly seemed like far too much work. “You can have your crown, Rose. Your throne. All of it. It’s meaningless to me now.”

Rose was silent for a long time. And then in a voice so quiet Wren barely heard her, she said, “We could be different, Wren.”

Wren looked up at her. “What?”

Rose was wearing a smile she had never seen before—never learned for herself—and behind it, she sensed the ghost of a plan. “What if we ruled this land together? You and me. Side by side.”

Wren frowned. “Didn’t you hear a word I just said? About what happened the last time two sisters tried to rule together?”

Rose stamped down on the portrait, cracking the frame. “We are not them, Wren. We arenotcursed.” She sounded surer by the moment, her eyes as bright and green as the rolling plains of the Errinwilde. “I should have realized it before. That we could do it together. We’ve been apart our whole lives, but now we can make that sacrifice mean something. Look at where we come from; look at everything we’ve learned along the way. We are both Valharts and witches, and together we can mark the beginning of a new era in—”

“Rose, we can’t just—”

“Yes, we can, Wren! We have the same vision now.”

“Which is why we need only one of us to carry it out.”

Rose shook her head. “I always thought I would rule this land with a husband by my side. A king who was clever and strong and fearless. Why can’t it be a sister instead? Why can’t it be you? If it has been done before, it can be done again. Only this time it will be different. It will be better.”

Wren stood up slowly. “What makes you so sure of that?”

“You felt what happened in the Vault today. Together we are more. Together we have true power.” She took Wren by the shoulders. “War is coming. The Gevrans will return, and when they do, you and I will face them together. I say we stand side by side and meet their ice with fire.”

Rose stood in the shadow of Glenna’s blood, looking stronger than Wren had ever seen her look before. She realized that her sister was right. Banba was gone. The world was tilting, and if Wren was going torule this land with anyone, she wanted it to be Rose.

Suddenly, it seemed as if that was the answer all along.

“We will not be a curse,” she said, more to herself than to her sister. “We will be a blessing.”

Rose held out her hand, and Wren stepped over the portrait of Ortha and Oonagh to take it. Somewhere deep in her bones, she felt the flare of her magic.

She smiled at Rose, and Rose smiled back.

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