Page 32 of Wicked Prince of Shadows
On a hunch, I asked Six Stitches and Broken Nose for the butcher or chef to drain the blood from the deathbeaks into the soil and reserve some of the blood in basins to pour in separately. Though they found it an odd request, they complied.
The chef, who turned out to also be the butcher, came to speak with me midway through the afternoon.
“What’re you doing out here, girl?” she demanded, hands on her thick waist. She only had one wing, and she walked with a limp. “You want blood?”
“I’m trying to figure out how this garden works,” I said. “You’re the chef or the butcher?”
“Both. You’re the Tanith descendant. The bitch who got us stuck here.”
“I had nothing to do with it,” I said, resisting the urge to sigh. I needed to change the subject because I didn’t want to get into the topic again. “But right now I’m stuck here too, and I am working on this garden. So can I have the blood?”
“Fine. Not as if we have any use for it anyway. It’s no good for cooking anymore,” the chef said.
That seemed satisfactory. Two guards assisted the chef, and I marked which plants I gave the blood and which type. Watering them all was a pain, but as I worked, I tried to learn all I could and struggled to come up with a plan that allowed me to live and ended this curse. If the portal remained closed down until the end of the blood moon cycle, that meant I was stuck here no matter what. And also that no help was coming no matter what Enola intended.
Other people popped up, peering at me from over the walls or peeking their heads out from the landing. A few whispered. None came close enough for me to see their faces, but I could tell they were intrigued, perhaps hopeful. If I were in their shoes, I’d likely feel the same.
They all believed I was the princess. The princess whose marriage to their king would end this curse and free them from this miserable existence, allowing them to escape the constant vicious threat of death and return to the Waking Lands. But I wasn’t, and that meant I would die.
In some respects, it wasn’t that different from what Queen Tanith had done if the Hollow King spoke truthfully. The main distinction was that it only condemned one rather than many.
It was much easier to sacrifice a stranger than someone you knew, and it was even easier if you didn’t believe it would cost them that much.
My stomach cramped hard throughout the day, and my head spun. It was getting harder to keep going without food, and I had to drink water. But I took only the barest of what I needed.
No one had ever said you couldn’t drink the water, but part of me wondered if perhaps it had just been missed. What separated food from water? Or fact from superstition?
Maker, help me, I didn’t know, and I wanted this over and done with.
It was late afternoon when I spotted the Hollow King down at the center of the garden near the one tree that had grown the most. Two of his eels coiled around him, weaving in and out of his shadows. The remaining two eels appeared to be investigating the other plants.
I approached him, arms folded. “Are you looking for something in particular?”
He released the fruit he had been examining, his jaw tightening. One of the smoky eels slid down along his left wing and then back up around his shoulder. “No.” He straightened his shoulder and pressed the creature back, his touch light and cautious to avoid cutting it with his claws. “You’ve made substantial progress. I’m surprised you haven’t complained more about the work.”
I lifted my shoulder, glancing around the garden. A bit of pride rose within me to see the transformation in this place, even though I wasn’t fully certain how it was working. My magic did seem to go a little farther out here. It just also took onunexpected twists too. “I told you I love gardening, and I’m used to hard work.”
He nodded slowly, his gaze still on the tree.
Surely he had to see it. He had to know I wasn’t the princess. Which meant if he kept me here…he knew he was sacrificing me. My heart sank.
He turned his gaze back to me. “You still haven’t eaten. This is becoming unreasonable. Will you join me tonight?”
The cramping in my stomach intensified at the thought of any food at all, but I hugged myself tighter, then shook my head. “I appreciate the offer, but I can’t risk it.”
His jaw tightened as did his posture, but he tilted his head again. “As you wish it then.”
I lifted my eyebrow in surprise. He had almost seemed hurt.
An odd twinge passed through me, tightening in my chest. Why did that even matter? His pain and discomfort weren’t my concern. He was the one who kidnapped me after all. It was tragic that he and his people were trapped here, but it wasn’t my fault.
Still I couldn’t fully shake these feelings. I finished tending the plants, whispering words of growth and healing over them. Then I checked the water levels of each one. No magic fully compensated for the basic necessity of hauling water.
At last the sunlight began to dim, draining from the garden in slow, reluctant streaks as if the sun itself feared to leave. But then all too soon, it was gone.
I rubbed my hands together, trying to banish the chill in my fingers, and glanced up.
There in the eastern sky looming over the palace wall was the blood moon. A darker, duller shade now. More ominous and frightening than before.
