Page 171 of Bound to the Shadow Prince

Something is definitely wrong.

In a haze, I stagger to the landing and then down a corridor lit with magic globes. There’s a pair of double doors at the end of the hallway and I push toward them. Dimly, I’m aware of them opening to let me into a room that smells sickly sweet, thick with incense and something foul. The edges of my vision are filling with black, and I know I don’t have much time. I fall to my knees and crawl toward the large curtained bed in the center of the room and pull back the hangings. Sure enough, a large form lies there in bed.

Lazy shite king. With a snarl, I grab the blankets and rip them off of his body. I lose my balance and tumble to the ground with the blankets, and as I do, the smell in the room grows stronger.

The smell of dead and dying things.

Gagging, I crawl to my knees and haul myself upright, using the bed to support myself. As I do, I stare down at Ivornath’s dead body. Maybe once he was a man in the prime of his life, but now he’s simply a desiccated corpse, his neck and chest marked with a dark, putrid rash. His mouth hangs open as ifhe screamed in his last moments, and his wings are shriveled underneath him.

Dead.

Long dead, probably from the plague. How…

“It’s a good thing you’re already poisoned, because now you have to die.”

The feminine voice is light and confident, familiar and yet strange. I turn and as the darkness envelops my gaze, I can just barely make out a face similar to my own, with green eyes and long, black hair and a haughty smile.

“M-Meryliese?” I manage before I collapse to the floor.

Chapter

Eighty-One

My vision is fading, my head foggy.

Meryliese. My sister. She’s alive…and she’s here in Darkfell.

Meryliese was supposed to be the one in the tower. Instead, she perished in a shipwreck and I was sent to her fate. I don’t understand. “H-how…you’re dead?”

She folds her hands at her waist and gives me a sly look. “Am I? I don’t feel dead.” She adjusts the cuff on one of her sleeves. “The shipwreck was a good story, wasn’t it? Such a tragic tale, too. All people on board died.” She clicks her tongue. “At least, all people that didn’t have a Fellian waiting to rescue them from the open water. I bet they never found my body.”

I stare. My eyes slide shut, and I have to struggle to force them open again. My limbs are cold, and I can’t feel my fingers. I reach for her, and she neatly sidesteps in a swirl of crimson silk.

“I love that after twenty years of my life was devoted to preparing me for the tower, they sent you in the space of three days. That must have been quite shocking for poor, pampered little Candromeda. So sad.” She mock-pouts, her lower lip thrusting out. “Did you stay inside like a good little Vestalin?”

I roll onto my back, but I can’t get up from the floor. Dimly, I remember her words. Poison? Someone poisoned me? I think of the milk I drank at dinner. How Ajaxi had paused when I skipped the wine. Was it him that poisoned me? I pant, trying to pull enough air into lungs that feel like ice. “Why…”

“Why what? Why is the curse upon us?” Meryliese leans over my dying body, studying me. “You did stay inside the tower, didn’t you? What was it, at least two years now? My, my.” She chuckles. “And all that time you didn’t wonder at the weather? It was Ivornath’s idea, you know. The Golden Moon Goddess brings a wealth of angry storms to show her displeasure, but the Fellians are safe underground. It was a simple thing to visit the tower the day of the solstice and step over the threshold and quickly leave again. With the curse activated, Lios and its fleet were doomed, and Ivornath and I were cozy here inside Darkfell.” Her face falls momentarily. “At least, until Ivornath went and died on me. But not to worry, his brother Ajaxi is an absolute cretin. He’s dancing to my tune already.”

I groan in pain, unable to believe what I’m hearing. It can’t be true. Meryliese deliberately sabotaged the tower before we ever stepped inside. She and Ivornath wanted Lios to fall, wanted all this misfortune. It’s horrible to think about.

“I hear you went and fell in love with your sweet Fellian. Is that true? Nemeth is not my type, you know. I like them more ruthless and vengeful.” She chuckles and leans down, pinching my cold cheek. “Don’t worry, little sister. I’ll keep him alive. I need at least one of First House if I’m to rule Darkfell.”

I want to bat her hand away, but I can’t move. My limbs are stiffening as if I’m a corpse. My vision has faded to a blur, and I’m only dimly aware of Meryliese straightening and turning.

“You should be downstairs entertaining your brother,” she says in a sharp voice. “Where’s Nemeth?”

“I knocked him out,” Ajaxi slurs in a wine-soaked voice. There’s a crash of dishes and the sound of furniture being shoved across a floor. “He’s…real real mad.”

“He can be mad,” Meryliese says impatiently. “It won’t make her less dead. With no one left, his loyalty will be to us.” She leans over me again, a blur of dark hair and green eyes. She slaps my cheek, and I don’t even feel it. “This one is taking a long time to die. Did you give her enough poison?”

“Lots. Lots and lots.”

“Hm. Well, take her to the root cellar. Dump her body there until we can figure out a better place to store it.”

I fade out.

I dislike death intensely.It’s cold and it smells like garlic and onions. Here I’d always thought death would be peaceful, but it’s oniony and someone’s arguing nearby and it’s all very irritating. I growl, and someone reaches out and slaps my face.

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