Page 67 of Burning Crowns

Alarik clucked his tongue. ‘A queen who doesn’t even follow her own rules.’

‘Oh, shut up.’ With little ceremony, Wren hiked up her skirts and grappled for her dagger, trying to free it from the band of her dress. Arlo blushed furiously, averting his gaze.

Alarik watched Wren. ‘You really are feral.’

Tor stepped in front of him, blocking his view.

Wren freed the dagger and chucked it with the others. She refixed her skirts. ‘Happy now?’

Arlo didn’t budge. He pointed at the wolf.

Tor bristled. ‘The wolf is not a weapon.’

‘She is my royal advisor,’ added Wren.

Arlo frowned then reluctantly turned on his heel. They followed him down an arched tunnel lit by everlights. Every so often, the passage branched off into another smaller cavern, where healers milled about, chatting and laughing among themselves.

At last, they came to an entryway, hung with long drapes. Arlo pushed it aside, bidding them to follow him inside. The chamber was high and domed and roughly the size of Wren’s bedroom at Anadawn. The walls were hung with more beautiful artwork while the ground was covered with a decorative rug. The room was lit with so many everlights, it seemed at first to Wren like a place of worship, but there were signs of life here. Several plush chairs were arranged around a wooden table that had been set for tea. The Healer on High stood beside it, teapot in hand. At the sound of their arrival, she set it down gently.

‘Your Majesty,’ she said, dipping her chin. Her voice was low and soothing, like a lullaby. ‘Welcome to the Mishnick Mountains.’

Wren was surprised by how familiar the Healer on High looked. She had light brown skin and warm brown eyes, set in a deeply wrinkled face. Her white hair was arranged in long braids that were twisted and pinned, like a crown, to her head. When she smiled she looked just like Thea.

‘Oh,’ said Wren.

‘The Queensbreath and I are cousins,’ said the Healer on High, reading the surprise in Wren’s eyes. ‘My name is Willa. Thea and I spent our early years together in these mountains. My seer strand is stronger than I’d hoped. I had a sense you might be coming to visit us.’ Her gaze flicked to Alarik. She looked him up and down. ‘Though I did not foresee any Gevrans. Or wolves.’

‘Don’t our ugly green uniforms fool you?’ said Alarik, mockingly.

Willa snorted. ‘Perhaps they would if you weren’t the spitting image of your father, King Alarik.’ She gestured at Tor. ‘And he’s built like an ice bear.’

‘We couldn’t risk the truth being intercepted by someone else,’ said Wren, suddenly unsure of where to begin. ‘You see … uh … we’ve … uh … got ourselves into a … situation.’

‘Shegot us into a situation,’ Alarik corrected her. ‘I was merely an innocent bystander.’

Wren rolled her eyes. ‘He’sthe troublesome one.’

‘Hmm. Yes. I can sense trouble here.’ Willa frowned as she looked between them. Her expression soured, as if she could taste something bitter in the air. Then she looked up at Tor, scanning him from head to toe. ‘You are well,’ she muttered, more to herself than to them. ‘Strong heartbeat. Hmm. Yes. Clear soul.’

Tor raised his brows. ‘Er, thank you?’

‘No need to gloat,’ said Alarik.

‘You may leave us.’ Willa dismissed Tor with a flick of her wrist. ‘Arlo will take you to the dining hall.’

Once Tor and Elske had left, the Healer on High turned her attention back to Wren and Alarik. ‘There is a wrongness here,’ she said, plainly. ‘A shadow that is not welcome.’

Wren looked at Alarik. In his gaze, she saw the reflection of her own fear.

‘Let me see what I can find out.’ Willa took their hands in hers. She turned them over, inspecting their matching scars. Her frown deepened. ‘What have you two been up to … ?’

Wren’s cheeks heated in shame.

‘Why do I have a feeling you already know?’ said Alarik.

Willa didn’t answer him. She closed her eyes, her frown sharpening until her brows touched. She began to mutter, speaking so quickly and quietly it was impossible to make out the words. Wren’s wrist started to sting. She ground her teeth, trying to bear the pain, but tears pricked her eyes.

When she looked at Alarik, his jaw was clenched. ‘Hold your nerve,’ he said, through his teeth.

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