Page 84 of Cursed Crowns
“He was a child,” Grandmother Lu cut in.
“He grew up, didn’t he? And here he is, rubbing shoulders with the queen of Eana.” Kai tipped his empty glass at Rose. “He could have come to look for us sooner. Looked better. Harder. Everyone thinks the long-lost crown prince, the great and bashful Shen Lo, saved us, but I’m the one who fought my way out of the sands, clawing through the desert until it filled my belly and my lungs to go and save my people, and what thanks doIget?” He scowled at Shen’s drooped head. “No fancy crown for Kai.”
“It wouldn’t fit you,” said Lei Fan, using a gust of wind to tip his greens onto his lap. “Your head is too big.”
Kai slammed his fist on the table. “It’s not fair, and you all know it,” he slurred. “None of this is fair.”
Shen raised his head. “I didn’t ask for any of this.”
Kai barked a laugh. “And yet you got it, cousin. You got all of it.”
“That’s enough, Kai,” said Feng sharply, and Kai returned to simmering in silence.
For a long moment, nobody spoke. And then a servant rushed in. “Help!” he said, looking between Feng and Shen, unsure of who to address. “There’s a wolf howling at the gates!”
Rose stood up. “I’d better see to that.”
“I’m going with you!” said Lei Fan, springing to her feet. “I’ve never seen a wolf.”
Rose waited for Shen to stand up, too, but he turned back to the old woman as though he didn’t even see Rose, hovering there at his shoulder. “Tell me more, Grandmother Lu,” he said. “Tell me everything.”
31
Wren
Wren stood on top of the Fovarr Mountains, listening to the blizzard scream her name. Her blood glowed underneath her skin, filling her with rippling power. It burst from her like a song, the crimson strands of her magic streaming through the wind. She chased them along the snowy ridge. Before her the magnificent dome of Grinstad Palace glittered like a jewel in the darkness.
You have woken the prince from his eternal slumber,said the wind in a voice that sounded curiously like her own. Only it was older, darker.What else can you do, little bird?
Wren heard the distant roar of the king’s beasts and felt her magic stir in answer.
Do you wish to shatter the mountains?
Do you wish to fly to the moon?
Wren took another step, and almost trampled a wolf cub sleeping in the snow. She raised her hand without meaning to. Inside her fist, a blade glinted silver-bright. She stopped herself before she struck the creature. “No.”
Why not?cajoled the wind.This life is for the taking.This blood will bring you power.
Wren tried to stow the knife and realized it was covered in blood. She looked down, the taste of ash suddenly acrid on her tongue. Instead of the cub, there was a person curled at her feet. Rose looked up at her, blood seeping through her teeth as she clutched at a knife wound in her chest. Wren screamed, but the blizzard swept the sound away. The mountain trembled at her feet, and somewhere over her shoulder an avalanche thundered down the slope toward them. Wren lunged for her sister, but the snow had already swallowed her up.
It careened over Wren, too, a sheet of ice closing around her legs and then her hips. It climbed up to her chest, rooting her to the mountain. Her breath froze inside her, and her blood turned to ice in her veins. Her magic snuffed out as her lashes crusted shut. Silence then, the keening wind dying out until there was only that ancient voice whispering to her from a forgotten corner of her mind.
Break the ice to break the curse.
Free me to free yourself.
Wren woke up in mid-scream, but the sound of her distress was lost in a deafening rumble. It was barely sunrise, and all the beasts in the palace were roaring. The chandelier swayed, and the pitcher of water on her bedside table was trembling. She leaped out of bed and rushed to the window, just in time to see a snowdrift slide down the mountain. It crashed through the gates of Grinstad Palace and buried the gardens up to their hedges.
And then everything was still.
Wren gripped the windowsill. “Hissing seaweed.”
Hours later, when the maid arrived to draw her morning bath, Wren was pacing by the window. “What was that earlier, Klara? Ithought the ceiling was going to cave in.”
“An avalanche.” Klara clutched the jug of hot water to her chest, her gray eyes fearful. “It’s been a long while since we had one like that in Grinstad. The blizzard must have set it off.”
“Is there anything else amiss in the palace today?” Wren fished, thinking of Prince Ansel, who was, as far as she knew, currently undead.