Page 95 of Burning Crowns

It was the laugh of Oonagh Starcrest. The same one that had haunted Rose’s dreams.

The kraken’s red eyes bored into hers, as it cast out another tentacle. Thanks to the combined prowess of Shen and Kai, this tentacle was the last of them. But it was desperate, grasping. Still trembling, Rose unsheathed Daybreak and brandished it at the kraken. She didn’t know how Oonagh had managed to enslave this creature, but she could tell by the dark magic throbbing between them that it was linked to her ancestor.That it would keep coming for them if they didn’t kill it.

Just as Rose made to strike at the final tentacle, a rising wave crashed into the ship, and she was thrown backwards. The kraken lurched, grabbing her by the waist and hoisting her into the air.

‘Rose!’ Shen’s cry rang out, but he was far below her now.

Rose was yanked through the air like a puppet, but her arms were still free, and somehow, she had managed to keep hold of the dagger. The kraken’s red eyes flashed as it pulled her towards its gaping maw, its interest in the ship now lost. Rose looked directly into its glowing red eyes as she was dragged close, and closer still, and just as its rotting breath careened over her, she raised her arm and struck, burying the dagger in the fleshy space between its eyes, as deep as it would go. The hilt thrummed as the blade sank true.

The kraken jerked, sliding backwards in the water.

Rose slipped from its grip and hit the water just as the thunder of cannon fire filled the air.

‘HOLD FIRE!’ shouted Shen, but it was already too late. The kraken thrashed weakly as it was pummelled, the glow in its eyes finally fading as it sank lifelessly into the sea.

Wren

CHAPTER 29

When Wren woke up the next morning, the mountain was already thrumming with activity. She stretched as she rolled out of bed, recalling the events of last night. Though she did not regret what had happened with Tor, she wasn’t exactly looking forward to seeing Alarik this morning.

Her stomach grumbled, adding a more pressing problem. She was starving. She got up and dressed, running a brush through her hair and braiding it down her back. When she arrived at the dining hall, Alarik was sitting by himself, picking at a bowl of berries.

He flung one at her in greeting. ‘Morning, witch.’

‘Where’s Tor?’ she said, catching the berry and devouring it.

‘Oh, you mean my midnight assailant?’ he sneered. ‘I’ve been waiting for Iversen to make an appearance ever since he tried to wake me from my slumber last night. Maybe he’s rethought his apology and decided to run off in shame instead.’

‘I doubt it.’

‘In any case, it seems I’m in need of a new Captain of the Guard.’

She slumped into the chair opposite him. ‘Don’t be so dramatic.’

Alarik tapped the purple bruise on his temple. ‘Tell me,QueenWren, back at Anadawn, do you allow your own soldiers to attack you, indiscriminately?’

‘You were trying to kill me,’ she reminded him, as a bowl of steaming porridge was set down in front of her. ‘You’re lucky I didn’t take it personally.’

‘Only for a moment.’ He flushed a little at the memory. ‘And anyway, that was a misunderstanding.’

‘Was it?’

‘Yes, Wren.’ He held her gaze, his voice softening. ‘Forgive me.’

‘I’ll think about it.’ She drizzled fresh honey on her porridge then added a generous heaping of brown sugar. She eyed the king’s bowl of porridge and noted that it was still full, the cooling oats congealing along the sides. ‘Aren’t you going to eat?’

He wrinkled his nose. ‘I can’t seem to muster an appetite.’

Wren examined him more closely. In the dimness of the mountain, Alarik looked like hell. Worse than yesterday. The concussion certainly hadn’t helped matters. He caught her gaze of concern and offered a wolfish smile. ‘Your mountains are not so healing after all.’

‘They’re doing their best.’

‘Their best is not good enough,’ he said. ‘Although I did enjoy our trip to the baths yesterday.’

Wren’s cheeks burned. ‘That’s not funny.’

‘It’s not supposed to be.’ He sat back in his chair and raked a hand through his hair. ‘This wretched curse,’ he muttered. Wren knew exactly how he felt, and sensed the same hopelessness and frustration warring inside herself. Even after a full night’s sleep, she could still feel exhaustion tugging at her, the curse in her bones demanding attention.‘It has burrowed a lot deeper than we feared.’

---