Page 59 of Burning Crowns

Wren turned to scowl at Alarik, only to catch the glint of his smile in the dark. He laughed hoarsely. ‘It seems to me that whatever curse is inside you is in me, too,’ he went on. ‘So, we are in this together, Wren. For better. Or for worse.’

They stayed awake a while longer, teasing each other to dull the edge of their nerves. When Tor returned with more firewood, they settled into an easy silence. Wren thought she’d never fall asleep again, but before long, she was drifting off. She didn’t wake until an hour after dawn when all the birds in the valley were chirping.

Tor was sitting on a boulder, watching the morning mist move across the mountains. His shoulders were tensed and his left hand was tight around the hilt of his dagger. He must have stayed awake all night, guarding them.

Wren smiled as she threw her blanket off and stood up. ‘Alarik really should give you a raise.’

Tor turned at the sound of her voice, and though his eyes were tired and his face was drawn, he managed a smile. ‘Perhaps you should tell him that.’

‘Oryou could come to Anadawn. I’ll shower you in diamonds.’

Tor chuckled. ‘I am not so easily bought, Wren.’

‘Too bad.’

Alarik was still sleeping, so Wren nudged him with the toe of her boot. His hand shot out, grabbing her ankle. ‘Do that again and you’ll regret it,’ he murmured, still half asleep.

‘Wakey-wakey,’ said Wren, shaking him off. ‘I want to reach the mountains by noon.’

Alarik groaned as he sat up. Wren looked him over and wondered if she appeared as grey and exhausted as he did. She passed a hand through her hair, tugging at the knots. She desperately needed to bathe.

They packed up their satchels and set off again, walking under the morning sun. The land climbed and they climbed with it, the way ahead growing sparse and rocky.

‘There are so many mountains,’ said Alarik when the wind grew quiet. ‘How will we know the right one?’

Wren recalled what Thea had told her. ‘Look for bloom and birdsong, and the opening will reveal itself to you.’

‘We’ll know it when we see it,’ Wren said, trusting in the old witch’s words.

Fortunately, they soon came true.

Wren spotted the birds before she heard their call.

‘Look, there!’ she said, pointing ahead, to where the tallest of the Mishnick Mountains jutted up like an arrowhead to pierce the low-hanging clouds.Songbirds swooped and soared around it, calling to each other through the mist.

They stuck to the curve of the mountain as they climbed. Rock face soon turned to flowers, blooming petals of blue and pink and yellow and violet casting a symphony of colour all around them until it felt to Wren as if she had strayed into a dream. Somewhere nearby, she heard the sound of tinkling water, and felt a strange calmness come over her.

She exhaled properly for the first time in months.

On either side of her, Tor and Alarik had fallen quiet. Reverent. The birds sang and they listened. They followed the trail of flowers until at last they came upon an archway cut into the mountain face.

Beneath it stood a girl about Wren’s age, wearing a dark green robe. She had cornflower-blue eyes, long golden hair and a placid smile that set Wren’s pulse at rest.

‘Your Majesty,’ she said, dropping into a curtsey. ‘It is our honour to receive you here in the Mishnick Mountains.’

Before Wren could respond, Alarik interjected, ‘Majesties.’

The girl looked at Alarik then back at Wren. A furrow appeared between her brows but she swallowed whatever she was about to say, and stepped back through the archway. It was only then that Wren noticed the huge cavern behind her, and the crystalline waterfall cascading from above.

‘Come in,’ said the girl, her voice soft and lilting. ‘And be well.’

Wren hoped it would be as easy as that.

Rose

CHAPTER 20

Rose strode purposefully through the deserted halls of the Palace of Eternal Sunlight.

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