Page 31 of Burning Crowns

Wren curled her fists, trying to fight the sudden rush of her panic. ‘Do you mean she cannot be killed?’

Alarik’s lips twisted. ‘Not by Gevran steel. Evidently.’

‘This is bad.’ Far worse than she’d thought.

He gave a mirthless huff. ‘I had hoped she would give up eventually, find another mountain to crawl inside and die.’

Wren shook her head at the idea of her ancestor going anywhere quietly, of laying aside her claim to Eana, to power. ‘She must have been hiding all this time. Gathering her strength. Planning for what comes next.’

His face tightened. ‘Which is?’

‘I don’t know,’ she said, in a whisper. And that was the worst of it.

‘Gevra needs a strong ruler now more than ever,’ said Alarik, a new bite in his voice. ‘Icannotbe seen as weak, Wren.’

‘I’m not the one who made you weak.’

‘You’re the one who cast the spell.’

Wren bristled. Not this again. ‘You made me do it!’

‘You messed it up!’

‘Do you thinkIwant to be like this? I’m supposed to be a witch and I can barely perform magic. Whenever I cast a spell, it hurts me. It wounds mysoul.I’m tired all the time. Distracted. Anxious.’ Her anger flared, the unfairness of it all crowding in on her. ‘And then at night, when I can finally stop pretending and be alone, I dream ofyou. I can’t escape what we did at Grinstad. I cannot escapeyou.’

Alarik threw his head back and scoffed. ‘I suppose you think I enjoy hearing you scream when I fall asleep? That I like chasing you through the snow, night after night, trapped in a hellish maze I can’t escape?’ He glared at her. ‘You are the one haunting me, Wren.’

Wren braced her hands on the table, glaring right back. ‘Can you stop arguing with me for one second?’

‘Fine,’ he said. ‘Let’s be practical. We need to free ourselves from that wretched blood spell, once and for all.’

‘Clearly,’ said Wren.

‘I have a kingdom to run. And I don’t have the luxury of a twin sister who will do that for me.’

‘What about Anika?’

Alarik threw her a withering look. ‘Do not jest at a time like this. My sister would eat your nation for breakfast. All it takes is one bad mood.’

Wren slumped into a chair. ‘I don’t have any answers for you, Alarik. I was hoping you’d have answers for me.’

This time when Alarik laughed, Wren joined in. It suddenly felt so absurd, both of them stuck in the middle of the Sunless Sea, trying to muddle their way towards a miracle solution for something they didn’t remotely understand. This scar. This pain. This strange bond.

‘Maybe not an answer, but a direction will do. Isn’t there someone we can speak to? One of your kind?’

Wren frowned. She had been hoping to avoid involving Thea in this, but she could see no way around it now. Whatever this thing that had taken root inside them was, it was damaging Wren’s magic, and Alarik’s health. And it was getting worse. ‘My grandmother’s wife has been a healer all her life,’ she said, slowly. ‘She grew up in the Mishnick Mountains, an ancient place of teaching and meditation. Thea learned from the very best. She lives at Anadawn Palace now. You’ll have to come back there with me.’

The king raised his brows. ‘Can’t she come to me?’

Wren almost laughed in his face. ‘If you think I’m dragging my grandmother’s widow across the Sunless Sea to the frostbitten country that killed her wife, then you’re a lot sicker than I thought.’ Wren pointed to his wrist. ‘If you don’t like my plan, then feel free to go back to Gevra and rub some snow on that. Frankly, it will be a miracle if she agrees to see you at all.’

‘What an enthusiastic invitation.’ His voice dripped with sarcasm. ‘How could I say no?’

Wren rolled her eyes.

‘It will have to be a brief, clandestine visit,’ he went on. ‘And I warn you, Wren, if I travel all that way and you fail to help me, then—’

Wren flung a candlestick at him. It cracked against the wall. ‘For stars’ sake, Alarik. Stop threatening me!’

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