Page 131 of Burning Crowns

‘Loving with your final breath,

And making the sacrifice of death,

Has turned the queen upon herself,

And felled her curse to save yourself.’

Wren understood then what she had done. By sacrificing herself for Rose and bearing the brunt of Oonagh’s lightning bolt, she had unwittingly cast a spell far greater than the one her ancestor intended. A kind of magic so powerful that it rebounded on Oonagh and shattered the curse that tied Wren to her – the curse that had been feeding her ancestor’s power.

But Oonagh was not yet dead. Her finger twitched, and Wren felt a distant twinge of panic. The spirits were still whispering but their voices faded, until Wren could no longer hear them. She felt suddenly trapped, caught in the in between, suspended somewhere between her body and soul. She looked up at the Mother Tree.

‘Help me,’ she heard herself say.

The fire surged, and in the whips of amber and gold, Wren saw a face that looked just like her own. Only it wore a different smile – it was older, surer. Wren recognized the expression from the royal portraits of Anadawn, from the tapestry that hung in her bedroom. It belonged to Ortha Starcrest, the twin sister of Oonagh, who had once ruled the kingdom of Eana with such bravery and loyalty, she gave her life to defend it. Ortha’s smile grew, her ancient eyes full of love. Not just for Wren or Rose, but for the kingdom they had sworn to watch over.

When the tree spoke, Wren knew Ortha’s voice just as surely as she recognized her own. ‘Long have you wished for an end to this darkness, Wren Greenrock. But the weapon you seek has always been within your grasp, forged by a force far greater than even the oldest of magic. You and your sister have fought for each other just as bravely as you have fought for this land. Unceasing, undaunted. The love you and Rose share will reshape this kingdom and fill it with new light, if only you find a way to let it.’

‘I don’t know what you mean,’ said Wren, pleadingly. ‘Show me how.’

‘Return to your sister and finish what has already begun.’ Ortha’s voice grew quiet, her face fading into flame. ‘Eana, the first witch, will guide you. As she guides us all, even now.’

‘Wait!’ Wren cried. She wanted to ask how on earth she was supposed to return to her body, but the spirit of Ortha Starcrest had disappeared, leaving only the echo of her words behind. The fire rose with a determined hiss, curling around Wren’s spirit and tugging her back down, into the dark.

Wren blinked to find the world had vanished once more. But even in this strange blackness, this place of nothingness, she was not alone. She could see the thread of her life shimmering faintly before her, entangled now with Rose’s golden strand. Wren reached out, taking hold of them both. They flared beneath her touch, and slowly, softly, the darkness began to flicker.

Eons passed as Wren followed the promise of light. When the flickering yawned into an amber sky, Wren reached for that, too. She heard the crackle of flame and the faraway whisper of wind rustling through the trees. She pushed on, willing herself back to life. Back to Rose. Until at last, she heard her sister stirring beside her.

‘Wren?’ Rose murmured. ‘Are you there?’

Wren opened her eyes to a world of fire and smoke. ‘I’m here, Rose.’ She turned her head, finding her sister’s emerald gaze. She looked just as spent as Wren felt, but there was a small smile tugging at her lips.

‘Welcome back,’ whispered Rose.

Wren’s smile grew to match her sister’s. ‘Let’s finish this.’

Rose

CHAPTER 48

Wren’s eyes flashed with the same determination that now rushed through Rose. She had plunged into the darkness to find her sister and somehow, they had returned from the brink together. They were not defeated.

Rose sat up, blinking into the firelight. She didn’t know how much time had passed, or for how long they had languished together in the darkness, but the sun had set and the moon had risen, scattering a sea of twinkling stars across the sky. The Mother Tree was still burning. The ring of flames was so high now it rested like a crown upon its branches, hiding the forest beyond it. Mercifully, there was no choking smoke or falling ash. Instead of feeling threatened, Rose felt protected, as if the spirit of Ortha Starcrest was wrapping her and Wren in her arms.

On the other side of the mighty trunk, Rose heard Oonagh groan. Their ancestor dragged herself up from the ground, digging her clawlike fingernails into the bark for balance.

Rose jostled her sister, trying to shake her from her daze. ‘Wren, Oonagh’s awake!’

Wren winced as she raised her head. Despite her determination, she was trembling badly. Barely strong enough to keep her eyes open, let alone stand on her own. Rose grabbed Wren by the shoulders, gritting her teeth as she tried to lift her sister to her feet. The effort nearly toppled both of them all over again.

‘Sorry,’ said Wren, with a huff. ‘I’m trying. I’m just so …’

‘I know,’ said Rose. ‘Save your strength.’

On the other side of the tree, Oonagh had made it back to her feet, but she was still holding on to the Mother Tree. She closed her eyes and Rose knew she was trying to summon the dregs of her magic.

‘Oh no, you don’t,’ muttered Rose.

Wren frowned, steadying herself against the trunk. ‘We need a weapon.’

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