Page 101 of Burning Crowns

Rose whipped her head around, just as three women emerged from the mist beyond the shore.

Kai smirked. ‘Maybe I like Carrig after all.’

The women slowed as they came towards Rose, their eyes widening as they took in her appearance, noting, no doubt, her uncanny likeness to Oonagh. They stopped, and the woman in the middle – who Rose guessed was the eldest – reached for the sword at her waist.

‘I’m not her,’ said Rose, pushing her damp hair back, so they would see the colour in her cheeks, the light in her eyes. ‘I’m Queen Rose of Eana. Oonagh Starcrest is my ancestor. A cursed, hateful witch who raises the dead and uses them to her advantage. I’ve come here to stop her.’

The women hesitated, weighing her words. They were clad in dark leathers and fur-lined cloaks. By their obvious similarities – copper-streaked dark hair and pale slender faces, Rose surmised they must be sisters. In fact, they looked just like Captain Iversen, but where the Gevran soldier was strapping and broad-shouldered, his sisters were lithe and slim.

‘You are too late,’ said the eldest, who was taller than her sisters. Her face was beautiful but stern, her eyes haunted. ‘The witch who wears your face is gone.’

‘She left behind a kraken,’ said the smallest of the three women,who had a soft voice, and three scars on her left cheek, as though a beast had struck her. ‘I see you’ve felled it.’

‘That was mostly me,’ said Kai.

Shen shot him a warning look.

Just then, Celeste and Anika came running along the strand. ‘Thank the stars you’re all right, Rose,’ said Celeste, as she threw her arms around her. ‘Here, I brought you a cloak to warm up.’ She slung the fur cloak around Rose’s shoulders, before turning to face the women. ‘Don’t tell me,’ she said, offering a smile in greeting. ‘You’re Iversens, aren’t you?’

The eldest woman dipped her chin. ‘I’m Hela,’ she said, finally releasing her sword-hilt.

‘I’m Greta,’ said the smallest, who Rose guessed was also the youngest.

‘Kindra,’ said the third, as she surveyed the shoreline with a deepening frown. ‘I hope you haven’t brought more trouble to this island.’

‘They have brought your royal sovereign,’ said Princess Anika, rolling her shoulders back. ‘Hello, Greta. Kindra. Hela. It’s been many years since I visited this little island, but like Celeste, I can spot an Iversen in even the most crowded marketplace.’

The three girls dropped into curtsies so clumsy and unpractised, Rose almost laughed. There was certainly a wildness about Carrig that held its own charm. She hoped there was fire and food here, too.

‘While we Gevrans are not known for our hospitality,’ said Anika, sharing a smile with the Iversen sisters, ‘I hope we can make an exception given the circumstances.’

Wren

CHAPTER 31

Night’s Edge sat securely on Wren’s hip as she and Tor left the Mishnick Mountains. Despite its size and heft, the sword made her feel lighter, affording her more energy than she’d had in weeks. She shouldn’t have been surprised that an ancient sword that once belonged to Eana herself, and that came from the healing waters of her mountains, would possess within it a measure of healing magic, but this latent power had caught her off guard. She welcomed it gladly. After all, she was going to need every last ounce of strength in the days ahead.

Willa waved them off, her smile tight as she watched them pick their way down the mountain and through the narrow pass, where the northern plains of Eana rolled on in a patchwork of green and grey. The going ahead would be tough but Wren was glad at least of the clear blue sky, and the mid-morning sun casting its warmth over them. She carried Eana’s sword – though it had only just come into her possession, she could not now imagine herself parting with it – while Tor carried their satchels, one of which had been filled with provisions for the journey home.

Though they set off in good spirits, Wren didn’t miss the worried frown that flitted across Tor’s face every so often.

‘There’s no better place for Alarik right now,’ she said. ‘He’s not well enough to march into war.’

Tor’s frown only deepened. ‘For Gevrans, war is often restorative.’

Wren burst into laughter, before realizing he was serious. ‘What could possibly be relaxing about war?’

‘It’s not the act of war itself but rather what it stands for. And who you stand with.’ He looked past her, the ghost of old battles flitting behind his eyes. ‘There’s no greater honour than fighting for a cause far beyond yourself, Wren.’ He gestured towards Night’s Edge at her hip. ‘You’ll see soon enough.’

Wren gripped the hilt of her sword. ‘What is this cause?’ she said, more to herself than to Tor.

‘Peace,’ he said, without hesitation. ‘In your country. In yourself.’

She nodded. Yes, she liked the sound of that. She couldfightfor that. She looked up at him. ‘What is the cause for you?’

He smiled. ‘Don’t you know?’

At her look of bewilderment, he chuckled. ‘You are my cause, Wren.’

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