41. Rosalina
Rosalina
“It’s risky,” I say. “If you get too close to Sira, she’ll notice your eye color.”
“Would she really notice that?” Keldarion asks, lounging on the bed. He’s wearing a loose blue tunic and leather pants, both of which fit him perfectly. They’re clothes he left in Cryptgarden decades ago, clothes Caspian never could throw out.
The three of us have been pacing my chamber all morning, trying to figure out a plan to get the rose back. We can’t leave the Below without it. “Caspian is Sira’s most precious creation,” I sigh. “She’ll notice.”
“And you can’t summon a little of the Green Flame to do your bidding?” Keldarion asks.
Caspian lays a hand against the doorframe, brow creased. “I don’t dare. If I let even a flicker of that magic out, it’ll consume me again.”
I throw myself to the end of the bed, kneading the bridge of my nose. Keldarion rubs my back. “Think. We have an advantage. She doesn’t know you’re you and I’m me.”
“You mentioned a revelry party, attended by all manner of creatures,” Keldarion says. “To celebrate Sira’s possession of the rose.”
Caspian runs a hand through his long hair. “Yes. Sira’s creations have scattered across the Vale. It was my mission to gain their allegiance with sweet promises. They’ve all gathered now.”
“What kind of promises?” I ask lowly.
“That Sira would make more of their kind. This may well still be her intention, yet…”
“She’s also going to use the rose to steal their wills,” I say. “Not to mention how many memories she’ll take in the process.”
When I told Kel and Caspian about what I’d seen in the cavern, both their faces dropped in horror. “Did you know about this?” Kel asked Cas.
“No, but it explains why everyone’s always so miserable down here. If all they have is memories of goodness and she steals even that, what is there to live for?” Caspian shook his head. “What might the people of Cryptgarden become, if only they believe there was still hope to fight for?”
His words have stayed with me. Could there ever be a future where the Below and the seasonal realms were not enemies, but united?
“This revelry day could work to our advantage if we gain possession of the rose,” Keldarion says, tearing me back to the present. “All of her followers surrounding her. She’ll never escape the Below once we control them.”
The notion twists wrong in my gut. But is it any worse than ordering legions of soldiers to march into battle for glory and possible death? At least the soldiers have a choice.
I shake my head. “Will she have the rose at this revelry?”
“Definitely. She’s touring it across all the cities of the Below.
The Tower of Nether Reach will be the last stop,” Caspian says.
“My mother won’t miss the opportunity to gloat, but there’s no worse time to try to steal it.
It’ll be right out in the open, surrounded by thousands of creatures and fae. ”
“Or the best time.” I sit up. “Sira will notice if it goes missing, no doubt. We only have to make sure she doesn’t know it’s us. There will be so many fae there. It could be anyone.”
“But how would we ensure that?” Caspian sighs.
A knock sounds on the door, and Heidigog steps in, a tray of breakfast in her little green hands. “Oh! Didn’t expect you here, Your Highness. And the prisoner! He’s all polished up like a jewel-box doll!”
“It’s alright, Heidi,” Caspian says, raising a brow and staring at her. “In fact, your timing is perfect.”
“It is, Your Highness? Queen Sira says I’m always skitter-scattering in late like a rat looking for cheese.
” Heidi places the tray down on the end of the bed, still eyeing Keldarion warily.
If he’s thrown by my goblin lady’s maid, he doesn’t show it, only taking a croissant off the tray and tossing it to me.
I bite into it but can’t keep my eyes off Caspian. That expression, the slightly furrowed brow, the tilt of his lips. He’s thinking. Actually, with that look, he’s most certainly scheming.
A glint flashes in Caspian’s gaze. “We get the rose by very obviously not stealing it.”
I smile. The Prince of Thorns is back. The one who saved Castletree and made it look like a horror, who first whispered truths into my ear and made them sound like threats, who chained Farron to help break him free.
Shadows pool at his feet. He opens and closes his palms, darkness coiling around his fingertips. “Caspian may not have loved playing with shadows,” he purrs, “but the Prince of Thorns did, and he picked up a couple tricks from Sira.”
The living gloom swirls around Heidigog, caresses her arms, her head, then winds higher, turning solid, catching the light…until she turns into a perfect replica of me.
Heidi holds her hands up, staring at her now pale pink skin, then rushes to the mirror. She touches her face, my brown hair. “Oh my,” she squawks, still with her goblin voice. “I’m hideous!”