19. Well, Hello, Prince Charming
I’d expected to find a pair of neatly made beds, each with a handsome prince sleeping peacefully within, with not a hair out of place or a wrinkle in their blankets. Instead, two stone tombs stood side by side in the centre of the circular chamber, firmly closed and draped in cobwebs. There were no more stairs or archways or tricks. I had reached the top of the tower at last.
The rest of the room was eerily empty, as silent as a grave. More cobwebs hung from the vaulted stone ceiling, and motes of dust drifted in the dim glow cast by my lantern, but they were the only adornments.
I eyed the floor. A thick carpet of dust blanketed the stone, but I could still make out the shape of the tiles. If there were any traps, they were well disguised.
I licked my dry lips. The last thing I wanted was to test that floor for hidden traps and open a centuries-old tomb. What would I find within? A shrivelled husk? A skeleton? What if the princes weren’t sleeping at all? What if they were dead? My hammering heart sank. Why hadn’t I asked that question until now? Ancient bargains or not, it was blatantly obvious that an evil uncle who wanted to steal his nephew’s throne would find a permanent solution to his problems. He wasn’t going to risk the curse being broken and his rule challenged. Had all this been for nothing?
I had to be sure. I had to see with my own eyes. The witches would be difficult to convince, and as they had no way of entering the tower, I would have to tell a compelling story, maybe bring back some evidence of the deaths. If only my phone still worked. I wasn’t in the habit of photographing corpses, but it would have been helpful today…
I grasped the stone arch, my fingers biting into the crevices, and pressed one foot against a tile. Nothing happened. I pressed a little harder. The ceiling didn’t cave in, neither did another chasm open beneath me, or poisoned darts fly from the wall. With my heart attempting to burst from my chest, I transferred all my weight onto my extended foot.
The room stayed silent and still. I blew out a slow breath and took another step, and another, all the while expecting death to come swooping from the shadows. But nothing happened, and in no time, I was standing at the foot of a tomb.
Now what?
I squinted in the faint light cast by my lantern. The stone appeared to be carved with yet more rune-like markings. A spell? The curse itself, keeping them sealed, maybe? I dipped my sweaty fingers into the dust, smearing it away from one such mark. Whatever it was, whatever it meant, I was none the wiser. If only Sage was here, I was willing to bet she’d be able to read it. But there was, at least, one carving I could decipher. A pair of crossed, curved swords marked the centre of the lid. Maelgwyn’s way of saying ‘ye be warned, me hearties’? I gave the swords a snort of disdain. As last ditch efforts went, it was a poor deterrent.
There was only one thing left for me to do. Discovering a skeleton was not top of my bucket list, but getting out of this mess definitely was, so I braced my hands against the corner of the stone lid and heaved.
For a long, horrifying moment, nothing happened. I held my breath, the pressure in my head building as I threw everything I had into my push. Just as I was about to give up, the lid shifted with a jolt and groan. It barely moved a few inches, but it was enough to expose an inner corner of the tomb. Neon green light spilled through the gap, painting my skin a sickly shade. I snatched my hands away, but my skin didn’t bubble and melt from my bones. It was just… light.
With my nerves in knots, I approached the tomb again and dipped my fingers into the wavering glow. It rippled like sunlight shining through water, while my fingers cast dense beams of shadow. Motes of dust drifted through the neon glow. Mesmerising.
I was wasting time. The tomb was almost open. Assuming this wasn’t some elaborate decoy, I’d almost found myself a handsome prince to send me home. With a deep breath, I shoved the lid again. It ground into motion a little easier this time, and I didn’t let surprise stop me. My lips pulled back into a snarl as I pushed and pushed with everything I had, until all at once, the lid slid freely, and my momentum had me ploughing belly first into the rock. The crash of the lid hitting the floor was enough to set the entire tower quaking. I ducked my head, expecting the stone ceiling to cave in or the floor to give way, but when the echoes stopped rattling off the walls, I was still alive. There was only one thing left to do. If only I could bring myself to open my eyes and discover what lay within the tomb. Green glowed through my eyelids, coaxing me, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to see.
“Come on, Aliza,” I whispered to myself. “It’s just a body.”
I’d seen lots of bodies in my time. Not humans, or fae, for that matter, but what difference did that make?
Holding my breath, I cracked open my eyes.
The tomb was filled with light, ebbing and pulsing like a recently disturbed bathtub, but within the glow drifted the most breathtaking fae I’d yet seen.
My eyes widened and my breath left my body in a rush. The sleeping male was gorgeous, young and fair skinned, with a straight nose, and cheekbones I could cut my lip on, if I dared to try. His long, powerful limbs drifted as he floated in the light, so peaceful and beautiful. His hair wafted around his head in an ebony cloud, stained with streaks of neon light. The painting at Nairsgarth had failed to do him justice.
Who was he? Anwir or Idris? It would have been much simpler if they’d had the decency not to split into two separate embryos. What did it matter? Two princes or not, there was only one curse, and only one human stupid enough to contemplate breaking it.
But how to break it?
As tempting as it was to fall into a daze and stare at such masculine perfection, I had a job to do, and I didn’t have forever. I needed to get out of this God-forsaken tower and back to the witches before something happened. The crash of the tomb lid had probably been heard by King Maelgwyn himself. A swarm of flying monkeys was probably heading this way, but as keen as I was to get this over with, I had no idea what to do next. Give my life? What did that even mean? Was I supposed to plunge my dagger into my own belly and shower the unsuspecting prince in the blood of a human sacrifice? Waking up to a bog-standard alarm clock was bad enough. Snorting at such nonsense, I worried my lip between my teeth. I wasn’t supposed to kiss the prince, was I? It couldn’t be that cliché. Besides, wasn’t it always true love’s kiss that broke the spell? I’d never laid eyes on this male before, not even the fleeting glimpse that was enough to set off happily ever after in most fairytales. And as pretty as the light was, how could I be sure it wouldn’t melt my face off if I leaned in? Just because it hadn’t harmed my fingers or my new immortal companion, it didn’t mean something awful wasn’t lurking. I was quite fond of my face, and I certainly didn’t love the unfortunate stranger floating in the tomb, but I had to do something. I imagined returning to Sage, explaining I’d found the princes but had been too scared of a silly little light to break the curse. Then I thought of my parents, of me trapped on the wrong side of the rift forevermore. This male was my ticket home, if only he would open his eyes, and as for true love’s kiss, well… all those fairytales had come from somewhere, hadn’t they? To Hell with it.
I leaned over the side of the tomb, the stone digging into my belly. Green light washed over me, but apart from the burning as my eyes adjusted, nothing terrible happened. My face was inches from the prince’s when I hesitated.
What if it worked? The rifts would open. I wouldn’t be the only creature leaving Neath. Hungry vampires and lusty witches would flood my world, driven by centuries of deprivation. What if Mum invited a vampire in for a cup of tea? What if a witch got her claws into dad? Would I end up with a swarm of long-lived half-sisters?
What if I really did get to go home? What if, before the week was out, I was reunited with my parents? With my life?
I could warn people about the dubious visitors who followed me through. Maybe I could even convince this prince to seal the rifts anew, after I’d gone through, of course. He’d surely be grateful enough to bow to my every demand, if I ever got on with breaking this God-damned curse.
My mouth had gone dry. I swallowed, darting my tongue over my lips as I contemplated the sleepy perfection inches from my face.
“I can only apologise,” I whispered. “I don’t usually do this without permission…”
I pressed my lips to his.
I barely had a moment to register how cool his lips were before the light swelled, glaring through my closed eyes, then vanishing as though it had never been. The glowing shape of the prince’s face burnt into my retinas, but his mouth jerked away from mine, and I scrambled back, opening my eyes in time to see him sprawled in the depths of his tomb, all traces of magic gone.
But his eyes. His eyes were open, and they flickered over me as he pushed himself up, before fixing on my own disbelieving stare.
“What have you done?” he hissed.
What? I opened my mouth with absolutely no idea of what I was about to say, but muffled yells and thumps filled the chamber. Shit. The other prince, still trapped in his tomb.
I made to move, but the prince moved faster. He leapt from his tomb with an ease I couldn’t have managed, and I hadn’t even been trapped under a curse for hundreds of years. In seconds, he was at his brother’s resting place, shoving the lid aside with another groan and crash. A second male, identical to the first but for his long hair, rose from the tomb. The brothers clasped arms as the second clambered to freedom before finally looking at me. He fell still, his eyes widening.
“You,” he breathed. “You’re the Human Queen.”
“Oh.” I gave an awkward huff of laughter, my skin heating at their piercing attention. “I don’t know about that.”
The long-haired prince took a few steps closer, lifting his hand, but stopped short, as though he’d thought better of touching me. “You broke the curse. You saved us.”
Oh, but he was gorgeous, with eyes of pale green, and strands of dark hair hanging around his face.
“I suppose I did.”
I did. I did.
The princes were awake! The curse was broken. The rifts were open. I’d done it. I’d achieved what countless women before me had tried and failed to do. I was going home. Everything was going to be okay. I laughed again, half disbelief, half delirious elation.
“Prince Anwir, at your service.” He flattened a hand to his chest and bowed. A prince, a future king, bowing to me.
“We need to leave,” the first prince snapped, throwing me a scathing look, as though I’d wanted the attention. “Now.”
He had to be Idris, the younger of the two. He wasn’t wrong. Just because the curse was broken, it didn’t mean this nightmare was over. He prowled around his empty tomb, examining it with an expression of distaste. When he reached the fallen lid, he stooped, and I followed his gaze. His long fingers brushed the carving of the swords, and at once, the stone crumbled away, revealing real weapons in their place. My breath hitched at the gleam of champagne coloured metal, but the prince snatched up the swords, deftly sheathing them across his broad shoulders.
I glanced away before he saw me looking, but my eyes only landed on his twin, who followed his lead, revealing a single but much longer sword hidden in the lid of his own tomb. His blade was an ordinary silver colour, but ornate and beautiful. My daggers, hidden in their sheaths, seemed uglier than ever, not to mention small. Still, they’d gotten me this far.
Now all they had to do was get me back through the tunnels. “The witches are waiting to warp us to Nairsgarth castle. Come on, it’s this way.”
I wasn’t keen on leading the expedition, but the company of two tall and hulking fae males was a definite improvement on my lonely journey through the tower.
“Witches?” Anwir hurried to my side as I led the way back into the passage lined with dark archways. To my relief, no tortured voices called out to me.
“They’ve been helping me. I—”
Whatever words I’d been about to say died in my mouth. A sharp crack split the air, and the stone at my feet opened, a dark, jagged split bolting between my feet. The floor rumbled, the walls shook, and dust streaked down from the ceiling. The tower…
“Run!” Anwir snatched my hand and dragged me forward.
I stumbled after him, ignoring the stab of pain in my ankle, twisting to be sure Idris was following. The three of us hurtled down the winding stairs, dodging and leaping the cracks that hunted us. No matter how fast we ran, the cracks kept pace, appearing beneath us, sometimes darting ahead, or veering off to split the wall. Anwir’s grip on my hand was painfully tight, but I clung to him as though he was my lifeline.
We burst into the grand dining chamber, the prince never slowing his pace as he hauled me around the table. Crystals rained down from the trembling chandelier, clattering over the banquet. I was only faintly surprised to see that the delicious feast had been replaced with decaying bones and lumps of mould.
The music in the corridor had ceased. I didn’t dare glance into that den of lust as we hurtled past the room. The tower gave an ominous groan, the sound rumbling deep within the ancient stone.
The cursed staircase appeared at our feet. Down and down and round we went, passing the haunting, dark chasm I’d escaped on my way up. The journey to the top of the tower had seemed to take a lifetime, but this… this was worse. How long would the ancient stone hold? The quaking of the building grew more violent with every passing second. Crashes sounded overhead, and I knew the roof was coming down somewhere above us. I couldn’t let it end like this, not when I was so close to going home. I hadn’t come this far to be buried alive.
I pushed my burning legs harder, throwing myself down the stairs with a recklessness that would have broken my neck any other time, but adrenalin made me surefooted, burning away my dizziness as we spiralled down into the dark. Dust and grit streamed down onto my head, larger chunks bouncing off me like hail.
When the first hint of pale light reached my stinging eyes, my knees wobbled with relief, but I hurried onwards, letting go of Anwir’s hand and taking the last few steps at a leap, staggering across the hall and out into the open air. I didn’t stop there, or look back at the groaning, cracking tower. I broke into a sprint, speeding through the tunnel of deadly vines I’d carved, then into the sunshine and toward the tunnels. The witches were waiting on the other side, probably watching the cave mouth with baited breath. They’d be ready for whatever followed me out. I would be safe when I reached them.
A stitch burnt in my side, growing stronger and more insistent with every pounding step, but I ignored it, fixing my attention on the fissure in the cliff face. I was too far away to see clearly, but I caught no glimpses of those cave-dwelling monsters waiting to strip the meat from my bones. Maybe they’d grown bored, or maybe the imminent collapse of the tower had scared them off.
I skidded to a halt on the dead grass outside the tunnel, doubling over and pressing a hand to my stitch.
The princes were barely a step behind me, and neither appeared even slightly flustered by our mad dash. Panting, I forced myself to straighten.
“There are things,” I said breathlessly. “Monsters. In here. We have to go through.”
Anwir swept his long hair back from his face, eyeing the cave warily. Behind him, in the valley basin, the tower gave an almighty rumble. We all turned in time to see its dark walls collapse inwards before the structure tilted, and surprisingly slowly, sank beneath the sea of brambles. The ground quaked beneath my feet as a cloud of dust billowed into the air, blocking out the sky. A minute slower, and we’d all have been dead.
It wasn’t nearly as shocking as it should have been. Had I been desensitised to near-death experiences? If I had, it did nothing to lessen my dread at the looming prospect of facing those blind-eyed beasts again.
I turned to Anwir, a brilliant idea unfurling in my mind. “Wait. Can’t you teleport us out?”
He’d only have to take us to the other side of the cliffs, then we could rendezvous with the witches and warp to safety.
It was Idris who answered. “No,” he said, his voice flat and cold. “Our magic is dead.”
“What?” Dismay made my voice shrill. “What do you mean, dead?”
“Wards.” His pale eyes flickered skyward, then he lifted both arms over his head, drawing the curved swords with a delicate shivering ring. Free of the gloom of the tower, the blades were somewhere between silver and gold, as pale and lovely as dawn light. “They’re nullifying our power. Let’s go.”
Without any further hesitation, he strolled into the tunnel as though he was off for a walk in the park. I shot a panicked glance at Anwir, who grimaced, gesturing for me to follow his brother. Hoisting my pathetic lantern higher, I hurried after Idris. Behind me, metal hissed as Anwir drew his weapon. I followed suit, sliding a dagger free of my belt.
“The witches didn’t say anything about wards,” I whispered as I caught up with the prince. “Will your magic come back when we get past them?”
“Quiet, human.”
I blinked, my mouth falling open at his rudeness. I’d just saved his sorry life, and that was how he spoke to me? If I’d known what a prick he was, I’d have gone to the other tomb, kissed the other prince. Would it have made a difference to anything but my dignity? Was that why the wards were up, because I’d somehow broken the curse wrong? How was I supposed to know the difference between identical twins? It wasn’t as though Maelgwyn had carved their names onto their tombs. Still, Idris was right. I knew what lurked in the dark, and the last thing I wanted was to draw them out with idle chatter. Not that my horror at the magic-deadening wards could be classed as idle. The curse was broken, the tower had fallen, yet there was no magic here?
Maybe Idris was wrong. Maybe his power was just taking its time to reawaken after such a long slumber. The witches’ magic would work, and even if it didn’t, the warp crystal would. Wouldn’t it? The words Sage had muttered as she used it couldn’t have been a spell. We had to get back to Nairsgarth.
I chewed my lip as we crept through the dark. The fae made barely any sound as they prowled ahead of and behind me, but my lantern lit up Idris’ silhouette, gleaming softly on his wicked, curved blades, reassuring me that, this time, I wasn’t alone. I’d survived the journey in without help; the walk back would be a piece of cake in comparison.
“It’s a left here,” I breathed as quietly as I could as we came upon a bend.
Idris stiffened at my words, and irritation sparked in my chest. Had he ever been in these tunnels before? Did he think he knew better than me, the human? That he could find his way without me?
“I told y–” something huge and pale and horribly familiar barrelled around the corner, leaping at Idris.