Princess of Death

by Cortney Pearson

  Lyric lifted another burlap sack, placing it on the ground outside her broken hut before returning to grab another. “Not everyone in the world sees things as you do. To you, she is an evil troublemaker. To many other countries and kingdoms, she is a savior.”

  “A savior of what?” Cali couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Why hadn’t her father ever told her any of this? She’d studied kingdoms and cultures, the exotic beauty of Lunae Lumen with their fishing harbor and cache of diamonds, the sedate kingdom of Bale and its coal mines, the dangerous land of Rune, where fierce creatures with coveted furs were said to stalk the forests…

  “Of life, of course,” Lyric said, taking the last few sacks and placing them beside her hut. She strode to the open edge of the cart and offered Cali a hand. “What do you say? Are you ready to appeal to Undine? That’s what my use of magic to help will require.”

  Appeal to the sea witch? What was Cali doing? And what did Lyric mean by saying Undine was the savior of life? Cali couldn’t take the time to ask. Truthfully, she had no other choice but to petition Undine. This wasn’t just about Darren or Hannah. It was about the people’s strength-drained bodies riddling Zara’s streets.

  Cali stood tall, doing her best to remain upright and keep eye contact with this mysterious woman.

  “I will do whatever it takes to save my kingdom.”

  Lyric’s lips cracked into a satisfied smile, brightening her face more than Cali would have expected. Beauty dwelt in that smile, yet Cali couldn’t shake the poisonous feeling she’d just made a deal with the devil.

  Chapter 3

  Lyric waited until Cali was settled on a chair in her meager, one-roomed home before turning to her uneven cupboards. They appeared more like building-block towers crafted by children than something a carpenter put effort into designing.

  Cali slumped over, resting her head on her folded arms on the rough tabletop. Lyric dug in her stores and retrieved a glass vial, opening it and pouring a small amount of liquid into a pot hanging from a spit on the open fire.

  Cali’s mind lagged. She couldn’t figure out what Lyric was up to. “Is that the cure?” If Lyric had it all this time, why hadn’t she tried to distribute it? Was she that frightened of Cali’s father?

  “No, it’s not the cure. We’ll have to brew it. I can’t return there to get the needed herbs, however, so you’ll have to travel there.”

  “Travel where?”

  “Lunae Lumen. It’s the only place firethorn grows, and we’ll need it, along with a few other ingredients, for me to brew your cure.”

  Travel? To Lunae Lumen? But that was on the other side of the boundary.

  “Then what are you preparing in your pot if not the cure?”

  Lyric corked the jar and placed it on the counter, flashing Cali a smile. “We’ll need a spell to get you across.”

  So many times Cali had wondered about the magical lands beyond. Did Undine’s hold extend there as well? That had to have been where Lyric was from. If so, why was she here?

  “You’re saying you can transport me there?”

  Lyric broke a few more plants, then crumbled their leaves into the pot. It stewed and bubbled under the addition. She then bent for a spoonful of powder from a fat, avocado-green dish on a low-hanging shelf and added it as well.

  “There are no guarantees,” Lyric said. The steam from the pot was making her black hair curl. “I will do what I can to get you there because you’ve already vowed your sacrifice and are willing to carry it out, but the conditions of your return will be somewhat different.”

  “Different how? Will I be able to return?”

  The fever racking Cali’s body tacked up her temperature a few more degrees. Traveling across the formidable boundary to a land she knew practically nothing about apart from their commodities and trade habits, with no guarantee of return, seemed pointless at best.

  “Oh yes,” Lyric said. She rested against the leaning counter, folding her arms. “But only when the terms of your sacrifice have been met.”

  The sacrifice of Cali’s life as she knew it. Lyric had said that was required for the magic to work. It sounded similar to the homage paid at the boundary every solstice.

  “What kind of sacrifice will I have to make once I’m there?”

  “What will be required of you, I don’t know, but it will become evident. You’ll feel it, because of the potion I’m brewing.”

  A potion. A sacrifice… Undine’s wrath, what was Cali doing?

  What she had to.

  “You said I needed to find ingredients. How can I do that when this is spreading so rapidly?” With effort, Cali held out her arms, freeing them from the warm wrap of her cloak. More spots were speckled about, even though only hours had passed since night’s grasp. A few more hours and she’d be like Darren, writhing on a bed, unable to do anything. “Won’t I be doing more harm than good by bringing this necrosis to Lunae Lumen?” And how would she function with it increasing in its severity?

  The question seemed to bother Lyric. She glanced out her glassless window, lost in ponderous thought. A single line between her brows was the only sign of distress, but it was enough.

  “It will not spread there,” Lyric said.

  “So—going there will save my life?” Because of the magic?

  Lyric inhaled, answering only after several seconds ticked past. “Magic will be in the very air you breathe there, because of the plants I’m sending you after.”

  Chills coiled up Cali’s spine. She’d never imagined anything of that nature before.

  “Once you return, you’ll no longer be breathing near those plants. You’ll become physically the same, in every way. The disease will resume its presence. It will take full force as if you’d never left.”

  What little strength she had drained from Cali, and she slumped against the table. Flashes began to blur in her vision, but not enough to hide the new marks dappling down to her hands. She had to do this. Going there would save her life long enough to save others.

  “It’s a shame,” Cali said.

  “What is?”

  “That we—we can’t just transfer everyone there. The cure we need would—be—nothing more than a change of scenery.” The words faded. Her energy sapped, giving way, refusing to keep her upright any longer. She was only aware of the floor moving closer, slapping the side of her body. Dirt fluttered, landing in her nostrils.

  Lyric didn’t rush to her side. In fact, she didn’t seem to notice Cali had fallen at all. She was lifting the pot from the flames with a thick glove, tilting it toward a wooden, age-worn goblet. Steam rose from it in curly tendrils. Still using the glove, Lyric lifted the goblet and knelt to where Cali lay, weak and helpless on the dirt floor.

  “You will be healed, Princess. You’ll be in a land drenched with magic, where you’ll experience dazzling sights not even dreams can compete with. The air itself is spiced with luxury and intrigue. Staying will be easy for you.”

  Lyric spoke with a pang of longing, as if the words themselves made her homesick. Cali’s tongue tingled at the description.

  “But time passes there as it does here. Within days, most of your people in Zara—including this person you care about—will be dead.”

  “I won’t—” Cough. “—get sidetracked.”

  “Be sure you don’t. Or this will have been for nothing.”

  Cali heard the unspoken implication. Lyric was making a sacrifice herself, allowing Cali into her home now. The woman was doing it because she had faith in her, Cali realized. Lyric slid a hand behind Cali’s head. She was finding it harder and harder to breathe.

  “I’m—sorry. I hope you don’t come down with this—because you’re helping me.”

  “Don’t worry about me,” Lyric said. “Now listen carefully, Princess. Based on how quickly the necrosis is progressing, you’ll have five days to return with the firethorn, dett wort, and glitz foil plants.”

  Cali registered the names, each so foreign to her. Firethorn
. Dett wort. Glitz foil. Firethorn. Dett wort. Glitz foil.

  “And—I will return how?” Cali was fairly certain they’d covered this part, but her mind was smoky, blurred over as if with layers of fog.

  “A sacrifice will call its due. Your sacrifice now is why I’m even able to send you at all. Now, drink.”

  Lyric tightened her fingers into Cali’s hair, forcing her to still her jerking movements. Cali didn’t even realize how badly her body was twitching until Lyric tried holding her steady.

  Here Cali was, trusting a woman she’d only met that morning, a woman she knew nothing about, a woman who spoke of a land too magical to be real.

  If this potion took her life, it was already nearing its end. But if it worked, if there was a chance at all of saving her people, at saving Darren, she meant what she’d said. She would do whatever it required.

  Cali opened her lips and drank.

  Chapter 4

  The liquid burned her throat, spreading like panic in her veins. She realized too late how many questions she had. Where was Lunae Lumen? How was she to find these plants—what did they even look like? What kind of sacrifice would it take to return home once she got there?

  Another question, one Lyric couldn’t answer, plagued Cali’s mind as well. Would she be able to make it home at all, let alone in time to help anyone?

  The sky spread before her in a miasma of stars and light. It was as though the universe itself was traveling through her, flaming and freezing like ice all at once. Then the colors vanished, popping out like snuffed candles. She was thrust back against something solid and hard as though landing from a great height.

  Cali splayed her hands to her sides. Inhaling a deep, cleansing breath, she relished the full use of her lungs. The agonizing ache was no longer chewing at her bones. Her body remained still, controlled, no longer trembling, and she gasped at the sight of her arms, the smoothness of her skin, free of spots and unblemished as it ever was.

  “Incredible,” she said, trailing a hand up her arm, as though touch would confirm it. She’d done it. Lyric had done it.

  Cali was in some kind of stone building. The ceiling was low, the floor uncarpeted. The sound of clanging metal chimed from down the hall, but she couldn’t quite place what caused it. Two women bustled past, speaking under their breaths and carrying trays laden with decadent, thickly sliced meat and garnished with leaves and cherry tomatoes.

  The smell wafted to Cali, pricking her empty stomach. She hadn’t eaten since the night before. Since before going to see Hannah.

  Men in suits and white gloves followed after the ladies, each carrying more trays, chattering among themselves though Cali couldn’t take in their words. Was she in some kind of servant’s ward?

  “—and get that message delivered before I get back! Had to send for more staff on such short notice—what were they thinking? And you… What are you standing around for?” A stern, plump woman with white hair in a tight bun marched in Cali’s direction, wearing a black, high-necked dress hidden by a dirtied apron. She paused her snarling orders to gawk at Cali in the hallway.

  To Cali’s surprise, several other young ladies snapped into obedience, scampering to follow the woman’s pointed finger into a nearby room. Cali was swept along with them, into the corner of the dim space.

  “The banquet will wait for no one,” the woman barked from the door. “Why is it you haven’t even dressed? Get in uniform, or the king will have your head as well as mine!”

  The other young ladies began stripping down to exchange their shabby dresses for pristine black serving attire. A lump rose in Cali’s throat. She had no time to pose as a servant. And she certainly wasn’t inclined to leave her fine dress here. Then again, it was too dark to discern it from anything the others were wearing.

  “Dawdling is the labor of the lazy,” the woman snapped. “Move along or this feast will be in ruins!”

  “Take this one here,” said a girl with a pleasant face, thin cheeks, dainty eyes, and a rosebud mouth. “It won’t be missed.”

  Cali snatched the dress from the hook and undressed, lost in a whirl of thought. Her body had healed instantly, just as Lyric promised it would—did that mean no one got sick here?

  She recognized no one. The scent of cooking food, the bustling servants very much alive and in peak health, the banquet being held—there was no necrosis here. Which meant Cali was either going mad, or Lyric’s potion had worked. Cali had crossed the boundary. She was in Lunae Lumen.

  She didn’t have time for this, but she couldn’t very well walk away either. Not until she figured out what to do next. She dressed hastily, brushing stray hairs away from her face. The rest had remained in its braid.

  “You must be new here,” the girl said kindly. “My name is Lenora.”

  “Ca—Ana. It’s Ana,” Cali said, catching herself. She wasn’t sure if anyone here knew the princess of Zara by name.

  Lenora smiled. “The trays are in the kitchen. Speak to no one. Set them on the rear table in the dining hall, and then stand by to refill goblets, retrieve fallen napkins, or see to other minor mishaps.”

  Cali nodded, her nerves racing with agitation. She followed Lenora out the door and into another room. Trays of food were piled high with stacked gelatins and vegetable-drenched salads, roasted pheasant garnished with potatoes, mouthwatering soups in fine silver vats, and dishes of white porcelain were stacked on side counters waited.

  Cali selected a tray beset with bowls of potatoes. The smell was divine—butter and onions and herbs in a perfect concoction. Again, her stomach rumbled.

  She bustled up a set of stairs and into a lavish banquet hall filled with people. Instrumentalists were collected in one corner, playing tinkling music on stringed guitars with long handles. Where her palace back home had been square and circumspect, adorned with red carpets and white flowers, this palace was all bulging curves narrowing to sleek angles at the tips of columns and along the ceilings. Shutters were cast open high above to allow sunlight to join the festivities.

  And the colors. Vibrant, luscious colors painted the drapes of fabric swooping from the columns—purples and teals and pinks the shade of blushing cheeks and secret admirations. Open balconies yawned behind the guests dressed in similar bright shades, offering glimpses of the restless sea outside.

  Cali’s heart skipped a beat. The sea. They were by the sea.

  She hurried to place her tray alongside the others on a buffet table behind the line of draperied columns before joining the other servants along the wall. It wasn’t long ago when Cali’s own parents had announced her coronation at such a banquet, where she had been seated beside her father and mother at the head of the room while noblemen and women collected to celebrate and enjoy a fine meal. And now she stood on the sidelines, carrying the food instead of waiting to be served.

  The king sat at the head of the assembly, his crown glinting. He was dark both in hair and demeanor, glaring at his guests as though wondering why they were there. A beautiful young woman sat on his right, her hair similar to Cali’s own raven-black locks and set off by a glistening tiara. She wore an enchanting indigo gown, translucent opals decorating her throat.

  Behind the king, another set of open doors overlooked a glorious view of the ocean. Cali paused for a moment, her breath catching. She’d sworn never to set foot near the sea again, but their ocean had never been this blue. She had a sudden longing to escape—to be swallowed by its proximity—to feel its spray on her skin as she’d done before.

  Other servants bustled about, serving food and waiting tables. Men and women in exquisite attire laughed together, clanking fine golden goblets and silver, polished utensils as they cut into their entrees. Her stomach gnawed itself harder. Hopefully, she would be granted a bite to eat soon. At every banquet she’d attended for as long as she’d lived, she’d never considered how difficult it was for her staff to stand by while everyone else indulged themselves.

  A gentle pinging captured the attention of
the room. The king rose from his place, lowering his goblet and the fork he used to tinkle against it.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, I welcome you to our home this remarkable day. It is fitting for the sun to shine as it does, for no other weather would be so perfect to announce the ascension of my daughter, Soraya Keilani Cressida, as crowned princess of Lunae Lumen.”

  Applause broke out among the guests, and the young woman beside her father beamed. His dark expression had lifted into a pleasant smile, and he offered her a hand, inviting her to rise to her feet. Color flooded her pale cheeks. She stood, eager and yet humble in light of the attention. Had Cali appeared as innocent and deserving of her position as this girl did? Cali had felt nothing but pride, mingled with fear, during her banquet. This princess faced their attention with a sense of gratitude.

  “And of course, you are all welcome to attend the ceremony. The coronation will take place on the eve of Soraya’s eighteenth birthday in five days’ time.”

  Five days. What was Cali doing, standing around here?

  More cheering broke out. Cali prepared to make her way back down the stairs, to find a way out to the street and begin her search, but a pair of hands didn’t cease its clapping with the rest of the crowd. Instead, the sound ricocheted through the dining hall.

  The king glowered, expression disgruntled and suspicious, toward the instigator who swaggered through the opening in the tables at the other end of the room, continuing his clapping with un-gloved hands.

  “How noble,” the man said in to the waking silence, stopping before the king’s table and circling around to face the onlookers. Cali’s jaw clenched. His hair was graying at the temples, but aside from that, it was clear he’d aged dangerously well. His white shirt was open at the collar and hugged by a leather vest. Boots climbed to his knees, and he wore rings and bracelets over the tattoos scaling his skin. Cali had never seen so many tattoos, nor had she seen a man wear jewelry before.