Page 15 of Burning Crowns

A shiver rippled down Rose’s spine as she sat up in bed. She didn’t like to think about what had happened in Gevra all those months ago. About the blood spell her sister had attempted. About Oonagh.

Rose supposed she should be grateful that her undead ancestor was far away across the Sunless Sea, but deep down, she had a prickling feeling that Oonagh wouldn’t stay hidden forever.

Rose clambered out of bed and threw open the curtains, suddenly desperate to see the sun. Morning light flooded her bedroom, washing away her worries. She stood in its warmth and reminded herself that there was no point in fretting about the unknown. But even so, her gaze flitted to the orchards, and she frowned. She made a note to herself to ask the gardeners if they had noticed anything strange about the fruit recently.

A knock at the door made her jolt.

‘Rose?’ called Celeste. ‘Are you awake?’

Rose hurried to open it, beaming at the sight of her oldest and dearest friend. Celeste was dressed in a violet day dress, her black curls piled high on top of her head. ‘You’re looking surprisingly fresh this morning,’ said Rose. ‘As I recall, you were still dancing with Grandmother Lu when Wren and I left the festival.’

Celeste stepped into the room and closed the door behind her.

‘Don’t be fooled,’ she said, wearily. ‘I’ve barely slept.’

‘You must tell me all about your night,’ said Rose, pulling Celeste over to the window seat. ‘Have you had breakfast yet? I was about to call down for bread with jam and honey …’She trailed off at the sight of Celeste’s sombre expression. ‘Oh dear. What is it?’

Celeste took Rose’s hands in her own. ‘I need to talk to you.’

Rose’s mouth went dry. ‘Is it about Wren?’

‘No,’ said Celeste, quickly. ‘I had a vision last night.’

‘Of what?’ said Rose, a touch too shrilly. But Celeste’s words and the haunted look in her eyes had set her on edge. First the tree had gone up in smoke, then Wren had disappeared into the forest and now this – a vision from Celeste. Rose’s stomach clenched with worry.

‘I think it was your ancestor,’ said Celeste, worsening the knot in Rose’s stomach. ‘At first, I thought it was you. Then Wren. But this other woman … Her gaze is hollow. And her smile … it’s cruel.’

‘Oonagh?’ Even uttering the name cast goosebumps across Rose’s arms. ‘Are you sure?’ she said, trying to will it away. If she didn’t accept this vision Celeste was bringing to light, perhaps it would never happen.

‘I’m not sure of anything,’ said Celeste, more to herself than to Rose. ‘But I know she’s not of this world. Of this time. And last night, when I glimpsed her, she was surrounded by …’ She frowned, as though she was still trying to make sense of it. ‘Dead animals.’ She shuddered, then corrected herself. ‘Only they weren’t all the way dead.

Bile pooled in Rose’s throat. ‘I don’t understand,’ she said, weakly. ‘How can something be dead and not dead?’

Celeste’s gaze darted. ‘Like how Ansel was,’ she whispered. ‘Her hands …’ Celeste closed her eyes, a dent appearing between her brows. ‘They were crusted with blood. As if she had been soaking them in it. And she was laughing,Rose. I’ve never heard such an awful sound. For a moment, I swear it felt as if … as if …’

‘What?’ Rose held her breath without meaning to.

Celeste’s eyes flew open. ‘As if she’s getting closer, Rose. Too close.’

Rose leaped to her feet. ‘We need to tell Wren.’

Celeste pulled her back. ‘Wait.’

‘For what?’ said Rose, impatiently.

‘There’s something off with Wren. I can’t put my finger on it, but lately I feel as if she’s been hiding something.’

Rose let out an impatient snort. ‘Like what? Our undead ancestor?’

‘I don’t know. Maybe.’

‘Oh, Celeste!’ Rose almost laughed. ‘Don’t be so ridiculous. You’ve never fully trusted Wren, that’s all.’

Celeste glowered at her. ‘I’m not being ridiculous. I’m being wary. And you should be, too. I understand Wren is your sister but we both know she hasn’t always been the most forthright.’

‘I trust Wren completely,’ said Rose, firmly. Sheneededto trust Wren. If she couldn’t trust her own sister, then who could she trust? And Wren had told her everything that had happened in Gevra. Hadn’t she? It was the stress of it all – the loss of Banba and the battle that had followed – which was causing Wren to act strangely these past few months. That was all.

‘Just because you want something to be a certain way doesn’t mean you can make it happen by sheer force of will,’ said Celeste, pointedly.

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