When Ione reached the iron bars, Elm stepped behind her, close enough that he could pull her back. There was just enough light to see a shadow shift, and then the Shepherd King was there, fingers curling around the iron bars, his yellow eyes wide and his jaw clicking a chilling rhythm.
Click. Click. Click.
Elspeth. Shepherd King. Nightmare.
He did not shiver, seemingly untouched by the oppressive chill of his cell. His spine stooped, black hair falling like curtains over his face. He jerked his chin to the side and looked up, his gaze catching Ione.
For a moment, all was silent. Ione stared at what had once been her cousin. They looked like mirrors of each other—if one of the two had been dipped in ink.
Ione’s voice drifted away from her. “Elspeth?”
“Sweet Ione.”
Ione reached a hand through the bars. Elm tensed. “Don’t,” he warned.
She didn’t listen. Her fingers grazed the skin along what had once been Elspeth’s cheek, and she drew in a gasp.
A smile crept across the Shepherd King’s face. “Do you finally see me, yellow girl?”
For the first time since he’d come upon her at Hawthorn House, Elm discerned unmistakable emotion on Ione’s face. Her pallor turned gray. Her eyes widened, and her lips drew into a fine line. Her fingers trembled as they traced the Shepherd King’s cheek. When she spoke, her voice was so thin it threatened to snap. “You’re not Elspeth.”
The Shepherd King’s smile widened. “Nor am I a stranger. I was the shadow that moved just beyond the corner of your eye. I spoke in murmurs, hummed songs you did not know. The hounds brayed, warning you of the intruder in your midst. The horses shied away and the birds grew quiet. But your parents did not heed them. And you, yellow girl, were afraid to look too closely.” His eyes dragged over her face. “But you’re not afraid anymore, are you?”
Ione pressed against the bars. “You—Elspeth—she kept so many secrets from me.”
The Shepherd King reached out, cupping her chin with a dirty, bloodstained hand. “She was wary. Clever. Good.” He rubbed his thumb along Ione’s cheek. “You and I are all that is left of her.”
“Who are you?”
“Blunder’s reckoning.” The Shepherd King’s grin was worse than any snarl. “I am the root and the tree. I am balance.”
Ione reached out in a flash, her fingers wrapping around his wrist. “I want to speak to Elspeth.”
“You cannot have her. She is with me. And I am letting her rest.”
“I don’t care. Give her back to me.”
The Shepherd King’s teeth scraped over his lip. For a moment, Elm thought he might tear into Ione’s soft, unblemished cheek. But his grip on her face loosened, his brow easing. “She will be free. But not until my work is finished.” His eyes flashed to Elm. “And old debts settled.”
It was the first time he’d looked at Elm directly, those strange eyes so piercing, so monstrous, so knowing.
“Elm,” the Shepherd King murmured. “A pleasure to see you again.”
Elm. Not Renelm or Prince, like every other stranger called him. Elm. As if this man, this thing, already knew him.
And, of course, he did. For every conversation Elm had had with Elspeth Spindle—every treason she’d committed alongside him—every secret she’d heard—so, too, had the monster in her mind. Waiting, just behind her eyes. Listening. Learning.
Elm felt sick.
“You look pale, Princeling.”
“It hasn’t been easy, cleaning up after you.”
“Yes. Your cousin intimated as much.”
Ravyn hadn’t said anything about going into the dungeon. He hadn’t said anything of the Shepherd King at all, save digging up his grave. Elm brushed away the sting, his gaze flickering to Ione. “She’s missing something. A Maiden Card. It’s here—somewhere in the castle. Can you see it?”
Ione’s eyes jumped between the two of them, and the Shepherd King stepped closer, his voice slithering between the bars. “Do you truly need it back, my dear?” he whispered. “Isn’t it better this way, your body safe from harm? Your soft, sentimental heart, finally guarded?”
Ione’s eyes narrowed. But the Shepherd King kept going. “Elspeth envied it—your heart. The ease of your laughter, the careless sincerity in everything you did. But I knew better. You were good, but never wary. It is why you hardly blinked when your father caged you like a canary on Equinox and left you in this cold, cavernous cage.” He stroked her hair with a listless finger. “The only reason you have not lost yourself to the despair of being shackled to Rowans is because the Maiden Card has kept you from feeling it.”
Ione was quiet a long moment. “I may not feel despair,” she finally said. “But I am still lost. I have disappeared into the Maiden, just as Elspeth has into you. And I want to be freed.”
Her words wove through Elm’s ribs, pressing into his chest.
The Shepherd King’s smile faltered. “I cannot free you.”
“But you can see Providence Cards by color,” Elm cut in.
He cocked his head to the side, predatory. “One of my many gifts.”
“My father keeps a Maiden Card in the vaults with the rest of his collection. Are there others in the castle?”
The Shepherd King shut his eyes—stayed silent a long moment—then laughed. A horrid, biting discord that echoed down the corridor. “Yes, dear boy. There are three Maiden Cards in Stone.”
“Where are they?”
He stepped back into shadow. “That, I cannot say. The castle is vast, the pink Cards scattered. You and my yellow girl must find the Maidens yourselves.”
Ione’s hands balled into fists. “Tell me where to look. Help me.”
But the monster was gone, retreated back into shadow.
Ione screamed against closed lips, then ripped away from the cell back down the corridor. Elm followed a pace behind.
“I look forward to when we meet again, Princeling,” the Shepherd King called after him. “I have plans for you yet.”
Elm turned, but he was gone, his farewell the same eerie knell as his greeting. Click, click, click.
The journey back to the antechamber felt even colder. When they reached it, Elm caught Ione by the arm. The ire she’d displayed at the Shepherd King’s cell was gone now. There was nothing on her face.
“It’s important to you?” Elm murmured. “Getting your Card back?”
She hardly seemed to hear him. “If you think this is about beauty—that I am opposed to what the Maiden has done—you are wrong. If I could still feel what it is to like something, I would tell you that I like being beautiful. I like being healed by magic and having no pain. I like who I was and how I looked before the Maiden Card as well. What I aim to get back, Prince, is my choice.”
When all Elm could do is stare at her, she sighed. “Go to bed—back to whatever it is you do with your time. I don’t want your help.”
“But you’ll need it, given that the castle is full of locks and I’m the one with the ring of keys.” He ran a hand down the back of his neck. “Actually Ravyn has the keys, but technically they’re mine—”