Lyr glared. “It’s not quite that simple. The ceremony requires actual loyalty, and Aenor doesn’t have that yet.” He turned to her. “For a hundred fifty years, everyone thought you were at fault for sinking the island of Ys.”
“Bring me, then, and I’ll tell them it was me,” I said, growing impatient. “They can throw rocks at me or whatever it is they want to do.”
“It would be a start, but I’ve already told them. And there are some who believe it, but most think that Aenor bewitched me into saying that. They’ve been committed to hating one person for a hundred years, and they won’t shift easily. She’s their devil, someone they can join together in loathing. It unites them.”
Aenor started pacing again, her narrowed eyes on me. “This would be an ideal time for Caradoc of Cornwall to not be rubble.”
“What do you mean?” asked Lyr.
Was he thick? “The statue,” I said, remembering the legend Aenor had told me in my mossy bedroom. “The legendary statue of the Meriadoc family. King Caradoc, the first king of Ys. You pluck the crown off his head to become ruler. But someone turned it to rubble, apparently. That someone being me.”
Lyr was watching Aenor. “Do you believe that legend?”
“Yes, of course,” she said. “It was passed down from one member of the Meriadoc line to another for centuries. Anyway, it’s a moot point—”
“I know where it is,” he cut in. “It’s not rubble. It was one of the most important treasures of Ys. We located it at the bottom of the sea and brought it to the palace we built in Nova Ys.”
“Good,” I said. “Let’s go.” I didn’t want to waste another moment.
Lyr stared at me, seething. “You’re not welcome in Nova Ys.”
I prowled closer. “But that’s the point, isn’t it? Let me be the person they revile, so they can forget about hating Aenor. I’ll be their monster. What does it matter to me? I’ll be in the heavens soon.”
I caught the look of hurt in Aenor’s eyes, and it pierced me. She still hoped I’d stay. But a god on the earth was a twisted, broken, and fragmented thing—missing a vital piece.
“Fine,” Lyr said reluctantly.
I nodded at the muddy earth. “Open the portal, Lyr. Take us to Nova Ys. Can you assemble the Ysians? Let them hear my confession. And then Aenor can pull the crown from the statue. She’ll prove herself as the true sovereign, draw power from the crowd, and it will all be over.”
“I can assemble them, yes,” he replied. “But when they finally come to believe the truth, they will want your head on a platter.”
I twirled the sea glass between my fingertips. Why was I still holding on to it? My curse was gone, and yet I was keeping this close to me, like a good-luck charm. “Well, let’s cross that bridge when we come to it.”
I glanced at Aenor. My departure from this world was like a toxin poisoning the air between us, and that glint of hurt in her eyes made me want to immolate myself. Lyr was staring at me, too, like I was the worst sort of mate for leaving Aenor behind.
But the fact was, Beira was right. Before the curse, I’d been standing on a ledge, already corrupted. All she’d had to do was give me the teeniest, tiniest of pushes, and I’d descended into the beast.
Aenor rubbed her eyes, her muscles tense. “Lyr, we need to do this now. I don’t know what kind of condition Gina is in, and I want to get back to her as soon as possible. I need to heal that Ollephest wound.”
“Fine,” Lyr said again, and turned to open a portal. “But do not expect this to go smoothly.”
As he opened the portal, Aenor sidled up to me. She flashed me a sad half-smile. “Don’t you want your fire magic back?” It still flickered around her in phantom flames.
I shook my head. “Where I’m going, I won’t need it. It will keep you warm while I’m away.”
I liked that—the idea of leaving my magic with her to warm her. But when I saw how close the ribbons of dark corruption were to her heart, a bit of blind panic ripped through my mind. Beira had sapped more of her strength.
This gambit was our last shot. Any more time after this trip to Ys, and the hex would stop her heart.
I brushed a strand of blue hair from her forehead. What I wanted was to get her alone, to explain why I was still leaving. That I loved her but that I was still evil. Even without the curse, I was broken and incomplete. My name meant whole, and I was the opposite.
That had happened when I’d fallen, and there was no fixing it.
41
Aenor
The portal opened before Lyr, and he jumped in first. I took a step back from Salem, pushing away the disturbing thought that our time would end soon. Of course he was leaving—it was what he’d wanted since humans were drawing on cave walls. To become a god again.
But I couldn’t think about that now, not when there was so much else at stake. Anything beyond regaining my crown had to be dealt with later.
Because right now? Distractions meant death.
I took a step closer to the portal and leapt in.
I watched as Salem leapt in next, still completely naked. The last of the darkened lava slid off his body. Then, as I sank beneath the surface of the water, the enormity of what I was about to undertake hit me like a tsunami.
I was about to face the people of Ys for the first time.
They’d known me once, a century ago. They’d known me as the drunk and wayward princess, with just a shadow of her mother’s power. And now, I’d need to show them I was strong, clearheaded. Fit to be their sovereign.
And if I failed? Gina and I would die together.
The toxins were sliding closer to my heart. Almost out of time.
I’d have to strike the balance here—somewhere between stressing the urgency of this situation to the people of Ys and being so urgent that I seemed like I’d lost my mind.
When a few streams of pearly light pierced the surface of the water, I swam for them as fast as I could. At last, my head breached the portal, and I hoisted myself out, catching my breath.
When I looked around the room, I was relieved to find that Lyr had opened the portal into an empty bedroom instead of a great hall full of people. That was a good thing, because I wasn’t exactly ready for prime time.
As I stood, I surveyed the room of pale, sandy stone, its arched ceilings thirty feet high. A bed stood on one side of the room with a wardrobe across from it. I could hear waves crashing against rocks, and I crossed to a tall window to look out at the sea.
Behind me, I heard Salem get out of the portal. He said something quietly to Lyr. Probably asking for clothes.
But all I could think was that this place smelled like home, that this was where I belonged. Over the briny air, I breathed in the scent of plum trees, primrose, and wild grasses. The rich aroma of Cornish pasties spilled into the room, and my stomach rumbled.
Gods, how good I’d had it at one time, and I hadn’t even realized it.
Peering out the window, I felt my heart thrill at the sight of the distant sea. Nova Ys… It felt so much like my home. It looked so much like home. It was a city of sandstone, enclosed by towering walls. From here to the city’s walls, towers seemed to grow from fields of wildflowers, covered in vines. Fruit trees lined a winding cobbled road that carved through the city.
Beyond the walls, cliffs overlooked the sea. That was where I’d once spent a lot of my time—beyond the walls, by myself. Salem had hated exile from a city, but me? I’d let myself out.
If I walked the cliffs, would I find a perfect Cornish oak, bent by years in the wind?
It wasn’t until now that I let myself understand how much I’d missed the peace of Ys. For all those years, wandering around England or the States, I had locked my mind up tight, a dam protecting against the sea of homesickness. Now, I was drowning in it.
I pressed my palm against the window.
I could almost see her now—Mama, striding toward the cliff’s edge in her bloodstained gown. She’d seemed like a goddess th
en, untouchable. And maybe Salem was right. She’d sowed doubt in my mind about myself.
“Aenor?” Salem’s voice pulled me out of my reverie, and I turned to look at him. It was just us two now. Lyr had left the room.
Already, Salem had dressed—looking himself again, dapper as hell. He wore a dark gray sweater and black wool trousers, his hair pushed back. The sunlight streamed in through the window, shining over his skin.
“Where did you get the clothes?” I asked.
He nodded at the wardrobe. “There, but it’s only men’s things.” His eyes were searching mine. He grabbed me around the waist and pulled me closer to him. Warmth radiated from his body, and he pressed his forehead against mine. “Aenor, I need to explain about me leaving—”
I held a hand up to his mouth. “I can’t have a distraction now, Salem. I have to go before the people of Ys as their queen, and I can’t think about anything else.”
“I need to tell you the truth about the curse.”
“Why now? Why not after?”
His grip on me was possessive, like he never wanted to let me go. “Lyr suggested my head could end up on a platter. And while I am immortal, it would take me a long time to recover if they scattered pieces of me to all ends of the earth. I want to use this chance.”
“We’re not letting you get scattered.”
He stroked his hand down my back. “For the first time since I was cursed, I can say that wretched woman’s name. Beira. And I want you to know that I didn’t marry her by choice. It was a trick of hers to secure her place on the throne. I’m not even sure that it happened. The night it supposedly did, she’d poisoned me with wormwood. I woke up to find her next to me, a crown on her head. That’s all I know.”
“And so, you rejected her, and she cursed you out of anger?”
“Yes, but… you need to know that when Beira cursed me, she didn’t have to change much. The worst part of the curse was probably being cast out of Mag Mell. No, it was that I couldn’t love. She watched me, always—she sent her little will-o’-the-wisp flying around my head to make sure I never loved anyone. But that didn’t matter till I met you. And the fucking spy figured it out, didn’t it?”
“Apparently so.”
“But the curse didn’t make me evil, because I already was. I just had this hunger… The ancients said that I had an appetite as large as one lip to the earth and the other to heaven. Insatiable. Shahar was the same, although she always controlled it better.”
“Why do you need to tell me this now?”
“Because I want you to understand why I’m becoming a god again. When people sacrificed to me in that cave, they were feeding my hunger for worship. For love that I couldn’t have. Because gods become warped when we fall to Earth. And yes, the curse made me a bit worse. But I’d already been throwing people to monsters for my entertainment. I’d already enjoyed ruining people’s lives for fun. I was already broken from the moment I slammed into the ground.”
Tears pricked my eyes. I understood that he wanted to feel whole again. It was just that he was the one who made me feel whole.
I took a deep breath. “Okay. But everything rests on what is about to happen.”
He brushed a tear from my cheek, and it was only then I realized I’d let myself cry. “You are their queen,” he said, “and they will know it, Aenor. Just as they knew I was their king in Mag Mell. The land feels it in its soil, and your people will know it. And I feel it as solidly as I feel the ground beneath my feet. You are queen here already.”
His confidence did actually make me feel better. I pressed my head against his muscled chest, knowing that this was only temporary—that I only had him for a little while longer, just a few more hours to hear his heart beating. I wanted to remember how this felt.
The sound of the door swinging open turned my head, and I took a step back from Salem.
Lyr stood in the doorway with two fae women, each of them carrying handfuls of dresses. The two fae ladies looked nearly identical, with vibrant violet hair threaded with flowers and alabaster skin. They bustled in. The two pale girls, Brigid and Aria, were indistinguishable from one another. But apparently, I wasn’t their main focus right now, because they were staring at Salem, blushing. Already, I was irritated with them.
Lyr stayed in the doorway. “I’m working on assembling everyone outside the Tower of Salt, where the statue of Caradoc stands. Once you are dressed, Brigid and Aria will take you to join us. It’s just across the courtyard, on a stone dais.”
I bit my lip, wondering how Gina was doing, if the frost had spread much further. “Okay. Let’s get this going.”
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Lyr asked.
I tugged the top of my dress open to see how far the magic had spread, and a tendril of fear wound through my gut. I had about an inch of skin left before it all ended. “It’s literally our only idea, Lyr. It’s the only option.”
He rubbed his hands together, looking lost in his thoughts. “Right. Okay. Good.” He disappeared out the door, leaving the twins behind.
They dropped the dresses on the bed, but their eyes never left Salem.
I unbuttoned my soaked dress and peeled it off. I grabbed a blanket off the bed, drying my body and hair as well I could. Then I plucked one of the dresses off the bed—a stunning creation with a platinum bodice and the most delicate pearly tulle flowing from the waist. It was shades of gleaming sunlight and pale twilight hues. “This one. It’s gorgeous.”
The girls helped me slide it over my head, then shimmied it over my hips. One of the fae girls stepped behind me, fastening the back of the dress while I held up my hair.
“What are you doing here?” one of them asked.
“I’m here to become—”
“Not you,” she said. “I was talking to the beautiful man.”
Salem flashed her a charming smile. “I’m Salem, Fallen God of Twilight, He of the Cursed Name. Lucifer. I’m here to explain that I destroyed the Island of Ys and slaughtered its queen. I took everything you had from you.”
The two girls giggled.
“He’s not lying,” I said a little too sharply.
The girl behind me finished fastening the bodice of my dress. “We weren’t alive then. Anyway, I’m sure you had a good reason, King Salem. Fallen God.”
I made sure Salem saw my eyes roll. “And if anyone is interested, I’m here to pull the crown from Caradoc’s head.”
“Right,” one of them said. “No one’s done it before. Plenty have tried. And you look a bit of a mess.”
The other gestured to my head. “Your hair looks a fright.”
My cheeks were growing hot with irritation. “My mother was considered the greatest sovereign to ever rule Ys, and she spent every day in the same bloodstained wedding dress for hundreds of years. So I think a bit of tangled hair is fine.”
Brigid—or Aria—grew even paler, now the color of milk. “Oh. You’re that Aenor.”
I stood tall. “Can you show us to the statue? We are running out of time.”
The woman nodded mutely, then flashed one last shy smile at Salem before she rushed out the door.
I followed behind them, praying to the gods that this would work—that I would be enough.
42
Aenor
I stole a glance at Salem as we crossed out of the tower into an enormous courtyard of blue, purple, and yellow wildflowers. True to his word, Lyr had assembled throngs of people on either side of the courtyard, and they flanked a stone path, watching us.
The path sloped upward toward a stone dais, with steps leading toward the statue of Caradoc. It was just as I remembered it—his long robes, his curling hair, and the crown carved on top of his head, engraved with seashells and set with pearls. Lyr stood at the base of the dais, waiting for me, his pale hair dancing in the wind.
Behind Caradoc loomed the Tower of Salt, just like the one in Ys. It towered over the rest of the buildings, so tall it pierced the clouds. Its exterior gle
amed with salt crystals, and the beauty of it all made my breath catch in my throat. My nerves were sparking, legs beginning to feel a little weak.
On the outskirts of the courtyard, towers loomed over the grasses, steep-peaked spires straining for the skies. Flowering vines climbed the stones. I’d forgotten how formally the fae in Ys dressed. In the human world, I’d gotten used to jeans and T-shirts. Here, it was all gleaming gowns and velvety suits, hair threaded with flowers and seashells. Alarmingly, nearly all of them were armed with swords, men and women alike. All of them stared at me, frowning. They still thought of me as Aenor Dahut, the wicked woman who’d sunk their kingdom.
Salem leaned in to whisper, “When a sovereign is crowned, the coronation requires a spectacle. We may need to think on our feet.”
I nodded, all too familiar with the concept. I hadn’t seen Mama’s coronation, but I’d heard about it: the pregnant queen in the stained wedding dress, dragging my father’s shattered body through the street behind her. He’d been a tyrant, and the people of Ys had loved her for his complete and utter demise.
But I didn’t have a tyrant to drag through the streets.
The crowd was murmuring as we walked closer to the statute. By Salem’s side, this felt like a strange wedding—somber, and with an undercurrent of dread. Because if this didn’t work, I had about twenty minutes left before the sea god claimed my life.
By the time we reached the dais, my legs were shaking. Salem whispered, “Let me go up there first.”
I nodded, relieved to have a few extra moments before I found out my fate.
The sunlight streamed over him as he climbed up the stairs, and he stood next to the statue of Caradoc, nearly its equal in height. Even barefoot and in a sweater, he somehow looked like a king as he opened his arms wide. “People of Ys, I come to you with a confession. I come to you for penance. I come to you as a prisoner of your true sovereign, Queen Aenor of the House of Meriadoc.”
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