Page 83 of Burning Crowns

Wren reached for her own cup. ‘How long was I unconscious for?’

‘A couple of hours,’ said Alarik, handing it to her. ‘Iversen carried you back.’

‘Thank you,’ said Wren.

‘It was nothing,’ he muttered.

‘What happened to you?’ Wren asked Alarik.

‘Untold pain and suffering,’ he said, between sips. ‘No creepy black smoke, though. Still, whatever that healing spell was … I could hardly stand it.’

‘I’m afraid none of us could stand it,’ said Willa, who returned presently. Perhaps it was Wren’s imagination, but she swore she could trace new crevices in the healer’s face and the hair around her temples looked greyer than before. ‘When you told me about your blood spell this morning, you never mentioned Oonagh Starcrest.’

Wren bit her lip. ‘Didn’t I?’

Willa shot her an admonishing look. ‘You really didn’t think it was pertinent to reveal that your long-dead, famously cursed ancestor was reawakened by your ill-advised blood spell in the wilds of Gevra?’

Wren looked at her hands. ‘I don’t even know how it happened … We weren’t trying to find Oonagh. It was almost as if …’

‘She found us,’ said Alarik.

Willa grimaced. ‘This curse is more ancient than any I have seen.’ She shook her head, as if she was still trying to make sense of it. ‘The day you cast that blood spell to awaken Prince Ansel, you woke someone else, too. Someone who had long been waiting for a whisper of magic to find her in those icy mountains.’

‘Bad luck,’ muttered Alarik.

‘Or fate,’ said Willa, darkly.

Wren tried not to squirm. ‘Oonagh was right there all along. Waiting.’

‘She must have sensed the blood spell and found a way to attach herself to it,’ said Willa, confirming Wren’s worst fear. ‘She used your magic like a rope to pull herself back to life. She anchored herself to your spell. Toyou.’

Wren and Alarik looked at each other. Half of Wren wanted to reach for his hand and squeeze it, to say sorry for her part in the blood spell. The other half wanted to punch him for dragging her into this mess in the first place.By the strained look on his face, Wren guessed the king was probably experiencing the same internal conflict.

The Healer on High leaned towards them, until the rest of the world faded away and all Wren could see was the warning in her eyes. ‘The curse binds both of you to Oonagh Starcrest just as it binds you to each other. The longer it survives, the stronger it will become. It will kill you, eventually.’ She looked at Wren. ‘It is already killing your magic.’

Wren pinched the back of her hand to keep from crying, but there was a rock in her throat, and her breath was coming short and sharp. ‘What can we do?’

‘Break the link,’ said Willa. ‘Before it destroys you.’

‘How?’ said Wren, Tor and Alarik, all at the same time.

Willa pulled back, hesitating.

Alarik read her silence. ‘Ah. You mean for us to kill each other. Or rather, you mean for your queen to kill the interloper.Me.To cut her losses, so to speak.’

Wren slammed her cup down. ‘Don’t be so dramatic. That’s not at all what she’s saying.’

Willa pressed her lips together. ‘Your Majesty,’ she said, in a low voice. ‘Perhaps we should speak—’

‘Don’t bother,’ said Alarik. ‘Your meaning is quite clear. It seems I am in more danger here than I thought.’

Tor’s hand flew to his waist, grasping for the hilt of his sword. But he was weaponless, just like Alarik. He jerked his head, watching the doorway as if he was expecting an army to come rushing in. Sensing the change in his mood, Elske rose to her haunches.

‘Calm down, both of you,’ said Wren. She turned back to Willa. ‘This can’t be the only way to survive this.’

‘There is only one other way.’

‘Tell us,’ said Alarik, a growl in his voice.

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