Teller flinched, staggering back a step.
“Diem,” Eleanor said softly.
I rubbed my temples. “I’m sorry. I—I just… I need a moment.” I turned and fled into my bedchamber, slamming the door behind me.
I paced the length of my room, clenching my jaw as my heart thumped a frantic rhythm.
Two days left.
Two days.
For weeks, the burden on my shoulders had been growing—in size, in heft, in agony. At first, it had driven my momentum, pushing at my back to urge me forward, a reminder of everyone my success could help.
But with every interaction gone wrong, those rocks had grown into boulders, and those boulders had become mountains, steep and jagged and too deadly to scale, the sheer weight of them threatening to bury me alive.
What would happen if I failed? To Teller, to Lily—to all the people I was trying to protect? Would the mortals be kicked out of the realm? Would Henri throw his life away on a suicide Guardians mission? Would my Corbois friends be forever ruined for the crime of thirty days of loyalty to me?
Or would they all forget me? Perhaps that would be the kinder fate, for my tiny reign to be utterly meaningless in the end. Or perhaps I would become a cautionary tale, a warning to all future Crowns of the grisly end they might meet if they dared to care for mortals, too.
Had I done any good? Or had I just made everything so much worse?
Suddenly, the walls of my bedchamber felt too narrow, inching closer with every panicked breath.
I looked to Sorae’s perch, my gryvern pacing in time with my own agitated steps, when a metallic glint caught at the edge of my vision. The gifts from the ball had been laid out on my vanity, and at the center lay a small gold disc.
I walked over and picked up the compass from Meros. A red arrow whirred beneath the glass dome, searching for the thing my heart most desired. I waited and waited for an answer, but the arrow continued its endless quest, spinning wildly without pause.
Because… what did I want?
Did I even want to survive the Challenging? If the weight of the Crown was too heavy now, how much worse would it be when I wielded it in full?
Or did I want to run away? I could take Teller, hop on Sorae’s back and disappear to some far-flung corner of Emarion. It would be the coward’s way out, but at least my brother would be safe, something I could never guarantee as Queen.
And what about my heart? I’d been chasing one man and running from another, agonizing over promises and secrets, loyalties and expectations. I knew who scared me, who excited me, who gave me dread and who gave me hope, but one question I hadn’t yet answered: who did I want?
The compass shifted in my palm as the arrow clicked to a sudden halt.
My feet followed the red line of the compass across my chamber, outside to Sorae’s perch, and to the edge of the palace walls. Whoever or whatever I desired, it apparently wasn’t here.
I ran inside and threw the Montios cloak across my shoulders to guard against the biting wind, then returned to Sorae’s side. Her amber eyes took in the compass clutched in my palm, then gazed out into the distance as her feathered wings spread wide.
I threw my leg across her back, and we launched skyward. I cringed, knowing Taran would be furious at me for leaving—but some innate sense told me this was something I needed to face alone.
Whatever magic allowed the compass to see into my heart with such clarity, Sorae must have shared it, because with each of her dips and turns, the compass’s aim remained constant. Within moments, the glittering palace was behind us, and the drab grey mud of Mortal City loomed in the distance. My heart stuttered at the sight.
Henri, I realized. The compass must be taking me to Henri.
An unexpected panic gripped me, and I had to fight the urge to turn around and fly back. I hadn’t spoken to him since he and Vance had fled from me two weeks ago.
At first, I’d been grateful for the time to focus on matters at the palace, but as the Challenging grew nearer, the silence between us had become increasingly… noisy.
Sorae flew closer, and I held my breath. What would I say? What truth would he see in my eyes, if he really looked?
But as we approached the center of Mortal City, where Henri’s home awaited, Sorae banked, turning toward the coast.
In the distance, I could just make out the faint dark line of Coeur?le, the verdant island in the center of the Sacred Sea. I knew little about it, other than it was forbidden to all but the Crowns, but as I gazed on it, I felt a sudden tugging in my chest—a crooning siren song, demanding I cross the glittering cerulean waves and set my foot on its moss-covered banks.
Come, Daughter of the Forgotten.
I gasped aloud. I hadn’t heard the voice since my father’s death, and I’d never heard it tell me to come anywhere. For weeks, I’d listened for it, even begged for it. It had abandoned me—until now.
Before I could question the beckoning or give in to its summons, Sorae’s path shifted again, and she dove for the ground. It took only a moment to realize where we were as her clawed feet touched the soil and brought me to a gentle stop.
Before me was a broad, blackened patch of earth—the place where my family’s home had once stood.
“I don’t understand,” I murmured as I slid off Sorae’s back. “There’s no one here.”
My insides twisted into knots. I peered down at the compass in my palm. Its scarlet arrow was quivering and pointing in the direction of the dark crater left by my implosion of power. As I approached the edge, two discoveries had me freezing in place.
First, the ground under the remains of my home had changed. At the funeral, the entire circle had been crusted with a hard layer of glittering onyx rock, but every last pebble of the strange stone had disappeared, leaving only the peaty soil beneath.
Second, speared into the grass just outside the crater’s rim was a sword whose jeweled handle I knew by heart. Luther’s sword—the Sword of Corbois.
I ran my fingers along the edge of the gilded hilt. I had never seen Luther without it. To see it abandoned here, especially after he had pulled it on his father to defend me…
Dark, terrifying scenarios filled my head—but there was no blood on the blade, no sign of recent use. And given how possessive Remis had acted toward the heirloom, I doubted he would leave it here, even to send a message.
Some unexplainable intuition told me Luther had left it behind of his own free will. What I couldn’t understand was why.
I looked back at the compass, whose arrow still trembled with such force I worried it might crack the glass. It pointed over the charred earth to the trees beyond.
I carefully stepped over the lip of the deep basin and made my way across, squinting through the dusky light.
My heart skipped a beat. What if the compass had led me to some evidence of my father’s murderer? My spontaneous combustion had destroyed the crime scene and any clues along with it. I had spent several afternoons wandering around the area, searching for anything that might give me a hint of the killer’s identity. Whoever they were, they’d hidden their tracks well.
And I had unwittingly helped.
But if there was something I’d missed… revenge was certainly high on the list of things I desired most.
My pace quickened, excitement and apprehension rising in unison. I crossed the center of the crater, and the compass grew hot in my hand. When I looked at it again, the red arrow had vanished, and the dial was lit up with a blinding glow.