Page 27 of Burning Crowns

‘Good.’ Oonagh dug her nails in, clawing Rose’s skin as she released her.

Rose whimpered as warm blood dripped down her neck.

Oonagh stood up, towering over Rose like a terrible wraith. ‘I expect a warm welcome on my return.’ She stepped backwards, dropped to the floor and disappeared, leaving nothing behind but a wisp of smoke and the echo of her laugh.

Rose sat shivering in her bed, too frightened to move. Slowly, so slowly, she reached up to touch her neck. Her fingers came away slicked with blood. Still shaking, she forced herself to crawl out of bed.

Her curtains were open but the window was shut. Her bedroom door was still locked. Rose turned on her heel, trying to make sense of the intrusion. Her heart stuttered at a glint of silver by the foot of the bed. There, on the floor, with smoke rising from it, was the bejewelled mirror she had taken from Felix in the library only hours ago. The mirror that had once belonged to Oonagh and Ortha Starcrest.

‘Eana, first witch, please protect me,’ Rose whispered, as she picked up the mirror. With trembling hands, she smashed it again and again against the nightstand until, at last, it shattered.

She stared at the pieces, her mind whirring. Was it purely a coincidence that she’d caught the prince of Caro with the mirror the very day that Oonagh Starcrest rose out of it?

Ithadto be. Prince Felix had no magic. No link to Eana or knowledge of Oonagh Starcrest.

And yet the timing was deeply unnerving …All of itwas unnerving.

Still shivering, Rose crawled into bed and buried herself under her blankets, willing morning to come swiftly. When dawn finally broke, she still hadn’t slept. She was wide awake when she heard a shout of dismay from the courtyard. In a daze, she went to the window.

Even from her tower she could see the cause for alarm. Everything in the gardens was dead. The flowers had all withered. The ground was strewn with dead petals and the rose bushes had blackened from decay.

Rose closed her eyes, fighting tears. She raised her hand to her neck. The bleeding had stopped sometime in the night, but the graze was deep, and the wound was stinging.

The truth was undeniable.

It had not been a night terror, after all.

Oonagh Starcrest was coming home to Anadawn.

Wren

CHAPTER 11

With expert ease, Marino Pegasi brought theSiren’s Secretto rest alongside the Gevran warship until both vessels drew level in the mist. The anchor whirred as it plunged down into the Sunless Sea, the sizeable chain almost running out entirely, until, at last, it settled on the ocean floor.

A gangway was erected between the ships. Wren stood at one end of it, waiting. Alarik stood at the other end, watching her.

‘Well?’ he called out. ‘Is there a reason you’re stalling?’

‘I was about to ask you the same thing,’ Wren called back. ‘Aren’t you coming?’

The king laughed. ‘The meeting will be on my ship.’

Wren folded her arms. ‘I’d prefer mine. It’s fancier.’

‘This is actuallymyship,’ hissed Marino, who was standing behind her.

‘That’s not the point,’ she hissed back.

‘Whatisthe point?’ he whispered. ‘Why aren’t you going over there?’

‘Because Alarik Felsing needs to know that he cannot simply snap his fingers and expect me to jump for him.’

Marino snorted.

‘What are you two conspiring about over there?’ shouted Alarik.Through the icy mist, Wren could see he had dressed well for their meeting. He was wearing a dark grey frockcoat, trimmed in silver ermine, with a high collar that brushed the underside of his jaw. Despite the fact he was sailing aboard the king’s official vessel, he had forgone his crown (or perhaps he had simply not yet replaced the one Oonagh Starcrest had stolen from him), making his wheat-blond hair look unusually unkempt. With the fog thickening between them, Wren couldn’t see his face properly, but she could hear the scowl in his voice. ‘Stop these childish games, Wren Greenrock, and come aboard my ship. We have urgent matters to discuss.’

‘No.Youcome over here.’ Wren stood her ground, even though she knew it was indeed childish. She was as safe on Marino’s boat as she would be a stone’s throw across the water, but now that she was faced with the daunting prospect of sitting down with Alarik Felsing again, she couldn’t help the sudden flurry of nerves. If she walked that gangway, her knees might tremble. Her hands might sweat. And he would see her, and know he had the upper hand. ‘I’m getting frostbite over here, Alarik! I’ve come all this way. This really is the least you could do!’

---