by K.N. Lee
She had an air about her—one that commanded attention, and maybe even fear.
Black feathers decorated her hair, tiny bones sticking out of her ears like earrings.
In addition to the small skull, the Bone Lady also wore a necklace with several bones attached to it. The bones swayed as she breathed in heavily.
“The stench of the curse is strong,” she murmured, her voice surprisingly low and deep.
“If you would examine her,” the king said. Belatedly, he added, “If you please.”
The Bone Lady glanced at him and arched an eyebrow. “I will examine her, yes, and then and only then determine if my services can be utilized.”
“Understood.” Tristan approached Nala and stood near her good shoulder.
The bones of her necklace clanged together as the Bone Lady walked over. She patted Nala’s leg and moved up to head of the bed.
Unlike Cort and Wylah, the Bone Lady ignored Nala’s forehead. Nala was shivering, so she suspected her fever had returned, that is if it ever had broken to be able to return.
Instead, the Bone Lady unwrapped the binding and dropped the bandage to the floor. Tilting her head, she examined the wound.
Without warning, the Bone Lady shoved her finger into the wound. Nala gasped. She couldn’t see the injury, so she hadn’t realized until now that the arrow piercing had not closed at all yet.
Shuddering, she watched the Bone Lady, awaiting any sign that she could cure her.
The Bone Lady muttered to herself, the words incomprehensible. She turned her finger. Shortly before they arrived, Wylah had applied the numbing salve.
Nala had felt nothing until this twisting movement. Now, pain and agony rippled throughout her body, and she feared she would arch her back again. Thankfully, she did not, but her breathing grew ragged.
She risked a glance toward her shoulder. The sight of the woman’s finger inside the hole disgusted her, but it was the sight of her skin that gave Nala pause. Her veins were black, yes, but that darkness was spreading to the nearby skin too.
The curse had spread.
Abruptly, the Bone Lady withdrew. Her offending finger was not covered in blood but pus. From the table beside the bed, the Bone Lady retrieved a towel and wiped her hand.
“This is not the first time I have seen this curse,” the Bone Lady said.
“Good. Can you heal her?” Tristan asked.
The Bone Lady held up a thin, bony finger. “Of course. For a price.”
The king ushered the Bone Lady away. They stood at the far end of the room, speaking in hushed tones, their voices too soft for her to overhear.
King Tristan clapped his hands, and the Bone Lady glanced at Nala, nodding.
“I accept your offer,” she said. “Now, leave us.”
What the king sacrificed remained a mystery as the Bone Lady ushered him out of the room.
The Bone Lady peered down at her, an eerie smile stretching across her crimson lips. “Let us begin.”
Chapter Twenty-One
The Bone Lady’s necklace clanged against her collarbone as she stood over Nala. She moved with a grace that suggested she floated rather than walked, she crossed over and shut the door.
A chill ran down her spine. Her body did move with the shudder, not that she could control the motion.
Bustling about the room, the Bone Lady placed candles throughout out. Then, she stood at the foot of the bed. She held out her arms, reaching toward the ceiling. Her head back, began chanting in a language Nala had never heard uttered.
Blue flames lit the candles throughout the room, followed by the whispers of several different disembodied, high-pitched voices.
The whispers continued, filling her ears and mind. A lull came over her, and peace washed over her.
Darkness swirled at the edges of her vision.
Curious, Nala glanced at her shoulder. She gasped.
The blackness of her skin had worsened.
Was this elf helping or harming her?
Calm, and focused, the Bone Lady grabbed one of the candles. The blue flames cast red against the white skull dangling from her neck. With steady hands, she poured the wax into Nala’s wound.
Nala opened her mouth to offer up a wordless scream. The whispers dimmed before she heard all kinds of shouts. The languages spoken were not ones she comprehended, but the anger, the frustration, the raw power, all of that she understood somehow.
The Bone Lady returned the candle back to its place and waltzed over to another candle. This time, when she poured the wax from the purple-flamed candle, sucked in a bone-shattering scream.
The pain throughout her body intensified so much that she was certain her body was being ripped into a million tiny pieces.
With the third candle, the heat within her body magnified. Sweat dripped down her cheek from her forehead. She was burning inside and out.
The fourth wax stripped Nala of the fear. The fifth stripped out the black from her skin. The sixth, seventh, eighth, ninth, and tenth took away the black from her veins.
For the first time since being cursed, Nala did not fall into a fevered sleep, she rose from the bed as if lifted by unseen hands, and bright light encircled her, spinning her around like a pig on a spit.
“Behold,” the Bone Lady said. “You are reborn.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Freedom from pain and suffering. It came in waves as Nala emerged from the darkness of the cave. Finally, she managed to make it more than a few feet from her bed, and eagerly set off to explore this subterranean world of elves.
Enchanted, she beheld crystalline waters that glowed as they cut through, and flowed through the cavernous kingdom. Elves rode thin boats along the river, singing songs as they passed Nala by as she stood on a stone bridge that stretched from one walkway to another.
By her side, was King Tristan, dressed in a simple cloak, boots, pants, and a white blouse.
It was odd seeing him in the customary garbs of the common folk, but she understood why he did it. He was a king in another woman’s kingdom, and didn’t want to draw attention to himself.
Still, it was endearing to see him as such.
Smiling, she looked to him as they stood on the bridge, overlooking the glittering river.
“Thank you,” she said, and he lifted a brow.
“What for?”
She shrugged. “Where do I begin?”
He placed his hand onto hers, and she stared down at it, amazed that she didn’t recoil for once.
“Everything,” she said, finally, her voice soft, body moving closer to his. “You’ve saved my life, shown me there was more to this world, and you’ve given me hope that there is true kindness and good…in everyone.”
He turned to her—and to her surprise— cupped her face in his hands, gazing into her eyes as red birds with long beaks flew above their heads, perching on the stone landings that spiraled high into the ceiling.
“You have given me hope as well,” he said, tracing the line of her chin with his thumb.
Her heart raced, mouth parting as she found herself locked in the spell of his gaze.
“For?” Nala dared to ask, the sound of her beating heart filling her ears.
As he leaned forward, her eyes fluttered closed.
A kiss. Gentle. Soft. She melted into him as their lips met.
This was more than she’d ever imagined possible. More than she’d dreamed of. Could it be true?
Could it be love?
She smiled despite herself, as his hands laced into her hair, and his tongue parted her lips.
Delicious passion filled her from within, and her mind and heart soared, blocking out all sounds and thoughts.
All that existed in that moment, was Nala and the king.
She tensed when he broke their kiss. It was too abrupt. Too rough.
The look in his eyes, as he glared past her sent her stomach dropping to the floor.
Before he could speak, Nala was yanked away by something
strong.
She cried out, as her body was ripped away and sent flying backward. Her arms outstretched toward the king, but he was too far, and her body flew too fast.
Backward she went, and just when she thought she’d crash into the wall of the cavern, she did something impossible.
She went right through it.
Eyes wide with fear, and throat dry from screaming, she flew into darkness, into coldness, into an inky abyss that was too much like the near death she’d hovered above these past weeks.
No. Not now, she thought. Not when life finally had meaning.
It was then that she stopped, landing onto soft grass. The sun beamed down on her and the song of the forest came to her with its familiar tune.
Arms wrapped around her middle, and she screamed a ragged cry.
She spun around to face whomever had grabbed her, ready to fight.
Nala gasped when she turned to face someone she never expected to see again.
Ciaran.
At his side was Sunniva, and a cloaked figure standing tall with a magic staff.
Words escaped her, and she stared at the three of them, dumbfounded.
A gasp came from her lips, and the three others shot a look past her as shouts roared from somewhere far away.
She looked over her shoulder, stunned to see that the elven kingdom was behind her in the mountain, miles away.
Ciaran took her by the hand, and looked to the cloaked man whose eyes glowed in the dark of his hood.
“Gate us,” he said to what Nala suddenly realized was a wizard. “Let’s get her out of here.”
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YOU’RE LUCKY TO be alive.
Those words resonated in Rowen’s mind as the noose was lowered over her head and secured around her throat, scratching her delicate flesh with its coarse banding.
Not so lucky now, she thought, noting that this was the third time she’d had this nightmare in a week.
Still, she couldn’t awaken. Not until she had more information. If she was going to suffer in her sleep, she was going to at least figure out the cause of the prophecy, and the result. It was all she had.
Her only mastered ability.
Rowen coughed as her airway began to close against the ropes. Was it supposed to be so tight? It didn’t matter, the wooden floor would soon disappear from beneath her and she would either break her neck from the sudden fall or suffocate.
Neither option was appealing.
Rowen looked out to the crowd of blank faces. She ignited her second sight and dug deeper into the prophecy, summoning energy from the deepest depths of her soul. She could tell the difference between a dream and a prophetic scene. It was harder to awaken from prophecy, and for good reason. There was something she needed to see. To survive, if only for a few years longer.
The people that filled the square around the gallows were nondescript. No features to their faces, and no sounds from their mouths. No movement, either. They just stood like stoic silhouettes and stared at her as she awaited her death.
A black shadow stretched across the sky, blocking the sun and dimming the courtyard. While everyone looked to the sky, Rowen’s gaze peered past them, to the gates.
But, wait. Something new was happening, something Rowen had never seen in the other dreams.
Someone stood at the far end of the yard, behind the crowd, cloaked in dark gray.
The mysterious figure lifted their hand and pointed a finger right at her.
Out of the silence that filled the crisp morning air, a whisper burned her ear.
“I’m coming for you.”
Then, the trap door in the floor opened and the snap of her neck woke Rowen up.
A screech erupted from her lips as she woke up, clutching at her neck. Rowen shot up from her bed. A sheen of sweat glistened on her face as she struggled to catch her breath.
The nightmares. They were relentless. But, this time, a new element had been added to her prophecy. The fates were warning her, and she needed a plan just in case the time came when she needed to escape.
Something or someone was coming for her, and she wracked her brain for who that could be.
“They know,” Rowen whispered into the darkness, as she struggled to catch her breath. Escape was the only way. Her plan to restore her mother’s honor would have to be abandoned.
Rowen crossed the small room and gave the sleeping girl in the bed across from hers a gentle shove.
“Brea. Wake up. I need that favor you owe me.”
A quick glance out the tiny window that looked out to the back of the palace showed that the path from the castle to the gates was clear.
“Really?” Brea yawned and sat up, her white bangs falling into dark almond-shaped eyes.
“Yes.” Rowen lowered herself to her knees before Brea’s bed. “Please tell me you will uphold your promise.”
Brea tilted her head. “I promised to help you escape if necessary. I will do what I can, Rowen.”
“But, what if we are caught?”
“No one will catch us. And, if they do, we are ladies-in-waiting for the princess. We can make something up. You’re a clever girl. I’m sure you can talk us out of any situation. I’ve seen you do it.”
“You are truly the best friend I’ve ever had,” Rowen said, giving Brea’s hand a squeeze.
“You as well, dear. I will miss you. We all will.”
“I’m ready,” Rowen said as she shoved on her traveling frock and boots. Once her cloak was secure around her shoulders and fastened at the neck, she strapped her money purse to her thigh. It would be unwise to leave with a bag. There could be no suspicion from the palace guards.
At first, becoming a lady-in-waiting for the princess seemed like a welcome escape from her stepfather’s constant scrutiny. With her new life came hope and an opportunity to restore honor to her mother’s family name.
Little did she know that Withraen Castle would be significantly worse. Since childhood her prophecies had been harmless. She’d always been one step ahead of whatever fate threw at her.
Now, a mysterious being haunted her. Remaining in the palace only led Rowen one step closer to the fate of her prophecy. She had to find a way to prevent that horrible death.
Ready, Rowen watched Brea dress herself. With a nod, they left the safety of their apartment adjacent to the princess’ room and entered the dark hallway of Withrae Castle’s east wing.
Macana, their chaperone would be fast asleep in her room right beside theirs. If they were quiet, they could escape unnoticed. But, they had to be quick and confident.
Brea put a finger to her lips and nodded for Rowen to follow.
Rowen chose her accomplice wisely. Brea had a gift that could save them both if caught. They crept down the stone hallway, careful not to let the soles of their boots make any noise. Clutching her opal necklace, Rowen tried to keep her face free of fear as they walked past the princess’ royal guards.
Brea gave one a nod, knowing that he was sweet on her.
The stairway at the end of the hall led to the back corridors and a series of secret tunnels that they’d practiced using with the princess in case enemies stormed the castle.
“This way,” Brea whispered. She led Rowen down the stairs and to large sitting room. She hurried across the carpeted floor to the paneled wall. Rowen chewed her bottom lip as she watched Brea feel around for the hidden door. With a push, it was opened, and freedom awaited on the other end of the tunnel.
“Come.”
Rowen couldn’t run fast enough. They slippe
d through the secret door and into the dark tunnel.
“Smells of old rainwater in here,” Brea said, running her hand along the slick stone.
“I don’t care, as long as we make it outside.”
“Do not worry, dear. You forget what I can do.”
Rowen hadn’t forgotten. She was just hopeful that they wouldn’t need Brea’s unique ability.
The large stone door at the end of the tunnel was a beacon of hope. It was so close, yet so far. They couldn’t help but quicken their speed to reach it. Reaching it was a small victory. Getting out of the castle’s fortified structure would be a more difficult feat.
The dark cloak of night wrapped around Rowen and Brea as they carefully wedged the door open and slipped outside. The air was humid, and the sky a dull purple shade. Soon, the sun would rise, and dragons from all over would take to the skies.
To fly. Rowen closed her eyes and wished she could do what everyone in the kingdom did without effort. To transform and outstretch her wings would be bliss. But, Rowen could not fly. No matter how hard she tried.
Rowen rubbed her arm where a dull ache lingered from a failed attempt only years ago. It was her last attempt—one where she’d nearly killed herself trying.
Together, Rowen and Brea ran across the yard for what felt like miles. Breathless, they stopped just at the bars of the gate that reached high above them and ended at the stone structure that encircled the entire castle grounds. Four gates, and this was the one with the least amount of guards as it faced the cliffs that led right into the Perilean Sea.
“The guards are about to change shifts,” Brea whispered. “I can carry you over the gate and land just beyond the main road. Then, we can walk to the Gatekeeper’s station. She can port you home or wherever you want to go!”
Rowen narrowed her eyes as she watched four guards leave their posts as four more walked toward the front post in their armor.
“Did you save enough coins for your trip with the Gatekeeper?”
Rowen nodded. “I saved everything.”
“Good,” Brea said, folding her arms across her chest. “You should be able to catch a port from Withrae to Harrow with four gold zullies.”