I killed everyone in Carnith.
I’m not sure when I collapsed, but when I woke up, night had come. The shadows of the gilded dead surrounded me. Houses far too quiet, not a single fireplace lit. I ran back into Milly’s house, sobbing, exhausted, walking over the streaks of gold on the floor that felt as sticky as the honey Milly harvested.
I knew I couldn’t stay. Knew I had to get away. So I stripped off my syrupy clothes and washed up, dressing in a clean shirt and pants, along with my cloak. I found Milly’s knapsack and filled it with as much food and water as I could carry, and then I fled.
I couldn’t bear to stay in that house. In that village. So I ran to the next one over. That was as far as my exhausted feet could carry me. Stayed in a hidden alleyway, unable to sleep, because all I saw was that splash of gold glinting across Milly’s mouth and cheek and good eye, the milky one untouched, staring ahead, unseeing in a completely different way.
The next night, that village was raided. With men who brought torches and threats. I thought they’d found Carnith and they’d known what I’d done. I thought they’d tracked me down to kill me, that they were going to punish this village for unwittingly harboring a cursed girl.
Of course, I didn’t know then that it was him. Didn’t know that he’d followed me across the ocean on a hunch and that he’d found Carnith, where his master plan morphed. He didn’t need the clout or wealth from being Derfort Harbor’s east-end crime boss. Not anymore. So he shed the false name and had his men burn Carnith to the ground and bury the gold, hiding the evidence entirely.
Then he tracked me down, had half his men attack the village to make it look like a raid, while the other half swooped in to save the day. He had his own men killed not long after that. No one was allowed to know who he was or where he came from.
No one was allowed to know about me.
And I followed him. With newly-formed magic and a miserable, terrified heart, I followed him, looking at him like he was my savior. My protector. With his prodding, I learned how to use my magic when he said we’d run out of money. For him, I had to learn how to use it, but more importantly, how to hide it.
When I first got to Second Kingdom, I thought I was lucky.
But it turned out the villagers were right.
I was cursed.
CHAPTER 31
QUEEN MALINA
Perhaps the cold should bother me more than it does, yet I think I have simply grown numb.
Numb when I had to flee my own castle.
Numb when I had to flee my own safe house.
Numb as I flee my own kingdom.
That could be the reason why I don’t truly feel the blizzard as it boils around us like bubbles of frost, an agitated, bulbous cloud steaming out a mist of snow.
Or, it could be the shock.
I’ve lost track of the days since we crossed out of Sixth—since we entered the cursed land of what used to be Seventh Kingdom.
No one comes out here. For one, it’s forbidden, and two, it’s impossible to sustain life. There are no trees and no birds that fly overhead, like there’s something corrupted here in both soil and air.
Or perhaps it’s just too cold.
As a girl, I was taught history lessons about the monarchs who once ruled here. About the great strides they made in seeking the unknown. The kingdom itself was once intriguing as well. Like the great glacier lakes that used to draw so many people to sightsee. Icebergs jutting from the frozen water like the teeth of a giant sea serpent come to bite through the ice.
This used to be a formidable kingdom, and despite the harsher climates, it once had a thriving city too. The heart of the Orean and Annwyn union, the doorway between sister worlds where fae and Oreans alike could pass back and forth.
Now, this place is broken.
If it weren’t for Sir Pruinn, I would’ve turned back the moment I noticed the split and ravaged landscape. I can now say with complete certainty that the lessons I had on the destruction of Seventh Kingdom were not exaggerated. The fae destroyed this place so thoroughly that not a single person survived. Not a single inch of the land survived either, and it still hasn’t recovered. After three hundred years, nothing about this place shows any signs of repair. It’s not just demolished, it’s…unnatural. Sometimes, I think I can feel some of the pulsing, evil magic hovering in the gray mist that clings to the fissures.
All around, there are jagged strips of land like serrated knives, where some of the earth has simply crumbled away. As if some great quake shook the kingdom, shattering it into pieces. All that’s left are broken-off strips on a flattened expanse, a gray and white void that lies bleak and empty.