Page 4 of Burning Crowns

‘Are you ready?’ said Rose, reaching for her sister’s hand. ‘It’s almost time for our performance.’

Wren pulled her gaze from the lake. ‘I’m ready.’

Rose made a gesture at the minstrels. The music quietened. Shen Lo fell out of his dance, smiling as he turned towards the twins. The rest of the revellers followed suit, looking eagerly to their queens. Even the wind stopped, as though to listen.

Lanterns flickered all around the lake, casting Wren and Rose in their glow.

‘Welcome to the Festival of Imbolg,’ Rose called out. ‘It is our honour to mark the end of this long winter with you and to welcome the beginning of spring. This season is a time for new blessings. And so we celebrate together, with rousing music and delicious food, and of course magic.’

The crowd cheered.

Rose nodded at Wren, giving the signal.

Wren raised her free hand, summoning the tempest magic inside her. Aside from her native enchantment, her tempest strand came the easiest to her now. It was Banba’s legacy, after all. Although Banba had passed on, Wren’s grandmother was still close to her heart. Wren thought of her every time she glimpsed the new silver streak in her hair,felt her strength whenever she reached for her tempest magic and heard her voice in the rumble of every storm.

Whipping up a new wind, Wren raised a river of water from the lake. As it swelled, it became a storm cloud. She exhaled through her nose, concentrating as she moved the cloud directly over the lake. Power buzzed in her bloodstream and rattled in her teeth.

‘Tonight, we say goodbye to the fear and dissent of the past,’ Rose proclaimed. ‘We banish all memory of war and bloodshed.’

Wren released her grip on the storm just as Rose raised her free hand, shearing the storm cloud in two. There was an almighty thunderclap. The crowd cheered as lightning flashed all around them. Rain fell in a great gushing waterfall, pummelling the lake. And then, all at once, the deluge stopped. The sky was clear once more.

A sudden shock of pain tore through Wren. She ground her teeth, forcing a smile, but her hands were trembling, and her knees were growing weak.

‘Today, we welcome a brighter future for Eana,’ said Rose, her voice loud and clear, smile broad and sure. ‘We welcome new life. New growth. New hope.’

She squeezed Wren’s hand. It was time for their enchantment. The twins knelt and picked up a fistful of silt each from the lakeshore. The fresh earth in Wren’s hand strengthened her as she stood. If Rose noticed her sister’s sudden exhaustion, she didn’t show it.

The twins’ voices arced as they recited their enchantment, the spell ringing out like a song.

‘From earth to dust, with flames so bright, we welcome spring, and its new light.’

Just like they had been practising all week, Wren and Rose cast their earth and conjured a magnificent oak tree made of flames.It hovered on the surface of the lake like a great burning statue. The crowd erupted in applause.

‘People of Eana, we invite all of you to join us,’ cried Rose. ‘Those without magic, take a candle from one of our stewards and raise it to the sky, joining your light with ours. Witches, lend your magic to our spell. With this symbolic Tree of Light, help us to cast new blessings on this ancient land.’

All across the clearing, candles were lit and raised. Witches knelt to gather dirt, before casting their own enchantments, adding whips of flame to the great burning tree until it sprawled across the entire lake, its branches twisting up towards the sky. The clearing flared amber and gold, no longer lit by the dying sun but by the Tree of Light. The symbol of Imbolg.

Everyone looked up, marvelling at such a feat of power.

Rose’s laughter rang out, merry as a song. ‘Oh, Wren, isn’t it wonderful?’

The great tree burned tears in Wren’s eyes and for a brief, perfect moment, she felt invigorated, filled with a hope she had thought was lost to her.

Then the smoke came. It stole up from the base of the tree, hissing as it swallowed the flames.

‘Oh no!’ Rose kept her voice low, but Wren heard the panic in it. ‘What’s happening?’

Wren winced as fresh pain lanced up her arm. She dropped her hand, letting her magic go out, but it was too late. The spell had twisted. The smoke was getting thicker, blacker. It travelled along the branches of the tree, stealing every flicker of light. Then it billowed across the lake, smothering the candles in a choking cloud of ash.

The crowd screamed as darkness fell.

‘Wren! Something’s wrong!’ hissed Rose, grabbing her hand.

Before Wren could say another word, an eerie laugh rang out. It seemed to echo all around her, finding its breath in the smoke. Wren froze. Suddenly, she knew – not what was wrong, butwho.Somehow, Oonagh Starcrest was here. Wren dropped Rose’s hand and fled.

Rose

CHAPTER 4

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