The Cursed Kingdom (The Cursed Kingdom #1)

Prologue

TWENTY YEARS AGO

ABBY FLATTENS HER sweaty palms against the smooth, blue interior of the slide, her shoulders straining as she struggles to find a good foothold. Why can’t she get this? Everybody else in her first-grade class can climb up the slides, and she’s tired of hearing their frustrated sighs whenever it’s her turn. They say she’s too slow, and it’s embarrassing.

Her right palm slips with a loud squeak, prompting her to flail and kick her legs even farther to the sides. It’s the wrong move, one she’s made over a dozen times already, and she grunts as she loses her grip and tumbles to the bottom of the slide.

There’s no reason for this to be as hard as it is.

“Hi.”

Abby would know that voice anywhere, and she barely resists an eyeroll as she shoves her damp, blonde hair out of her face and spins toward the intruder. Lillian Collins . Abby’s brown eyes meet vibrant violet ones, the sight only worsening her already sour mood.

Lillian and her mom are new to town, and Lillian has already managed to ruin Abby’s life.

Abby’s older brother, Aaron, no longer wants to play with her, and, after much deliberation, Abby has decided it’s Lillian’s fault. All Aaron and Tommy Knocker—the absolute love of Abby’s life—want to do is follow Lillian around the neighborhood.

That’s all anybody wants to do.

They think Lillian is exciting with her violet eyes and stark-white hair, but Abby doesn’t think it’s that cool.

Lillian gestures to the slide. “Can I try?”

Abby crosses her arms over her chest, debating saying no . There are no adults around to scold Abby for her bad behavior, so there’s no reason to be nice. Aaron was supposed to come to the park with her, but he and Tommy Knocker ran away the first chance they got. Abby tried to keep up, but their nine-year-old legs were too fast.

She has no idea where they are, and it’s all Lillian’s fault. Everything was perfect before the quiet, violet-eyed girl moved into town.

“No.” Abby wipes her palms on her pants. “It’s my slide.”

Her pants are new, but the stretchy, pink fabric is already covered in dirt. There’s also a tiny hole behind the knee, a blemish Abby hopes her mom won’t notice when she gets home.

Lillian presses her lips together and rocks back on her heels. She’s wearing a long, blue dress, and while the color is pretty, it looks about two sizes too big on her.

Abby takes pleasure in that, and she turns back to the slide and begins another climbing attempt with the determination only a six-year-old can muster. She makes it almost halfway up before losing her grip and falling back down.

Lillian watches the entire time, a fact that greatly annoys Abby. Nobody ever comes to this park, and Abby’s come to think of it as her own.

This is just another thing Lillian has ruined.

Abby makes three more attempts to climb the slide before losing her patience and turning toward the still-staring Lillian.

“Go away.”

***

Lillian points to the slide. “I want to try.” Her mom wants her to befriend Abby. She says Lillian needs to blend in with the humans, and making a friend is the most human thing she can do.

Abby jumps off the bottom of the slide, and Lillian can’t help but wonder what she’s done to make the other girl so angry. Everybody liked her back in Bellmere, even Prince Kieran. He declared her his best friend before the entire court, and that means something.

Well, it did. She and her mother are no longer welcome in the faerie realm, and her mom says she should forget about her life there. That’s easier said than done.

Abby chews at her bottom lip and glances around the empty park. Lillian counts the seconds.

Exactly seven pass before Abby finally sighs and points to the slide. “You have to climb to the top.”

Lillian climbs onto the base of the slide. “I can do that.”

They didn’t have playgrounds in Bellmere, but Lillian’s finding she’s pretty good at most human activities. Her mom says not to be too athletic and draw attention, but this will be easy.

She imitates what Abby was doing, planting her palms into the sides of the slide and using her feet to climb. It’s not nearly as complicated as Abby makes it seem, and after only a few minor slips, Lillian curls her fingers around the plastic edge on top and crawls onto the gray platform.

Abby peers at Lillian from the bottom of the slide, her brown eyes narrowed into thin slits. “How’d you do that?”

Lillian knows she should probably lie, but she really wants to be friends with Abby.

“I’m a faerie.”

***

Abby cocks her head to the side. Lillian’s a faerie ? That makes sense, and that’s probably why her brother and Tommy Knocker like her so much. Aaron’s taken to calling Abby a troll whenever their mom isn’t listening, and she hates it. She doesn’t want to be a troll.

“I’m a faerie, too,” Abby decides.

Lillian throws herself into the slide. Her shoes squeak against the hard plastic, and Abby steps to the side just in time to avoid getting hit as Lillian reaches the bottom.

“No,” Lillian says, landing on a pile of woodchips. “I’m a real faerie.”

Abby climbs back onto the slide once Lillian’s out of the way. The violet-eyed girl made it look easy, further fueling Abby’s desire to climb to the top. Everybody else can do it.

“I’m a real faerie, too,” Abby argues.

She doesn’t wait for Lillian’s response as she begins another attempt up the slide. She paid close attention to every one of Lillian’s movements, and despite her slightly shorter legs, it seems to have helped, as she makes it almost three-quarters of the way up before losing her footing and falling.

“Try putting your hands closer together,” Lillian suggests.

Abby doesn’t want help, but desperation has her giving it another attempt.

She’s willing to admit the closer hand position makes climbing slightly easier, but once Abby reaches the halfway point, her shoulders start to burn. Her right palm slips, the first sign of trouble, but a small hand presses against her butt before she falls.

“Come on.” Lillian grunts, supporting Abby’s weight. “Keep going.”

Abby peers between her legs. Lillian’s red in the face as she pushes against Abby, giving just enough of a boost for Abby to regain her grip and continue climbing. The other kids usually get frustrated when they’re behind Abby, and some of the meaner ones go as far as to grab her ankles to try to trip her up. Lillian only helps.

Abby sweats, her heart pounding as she completes the climb of her life, and she feels nothing less than sweet, sweet victory as her fingers finally curl around the top edge of the slide. She groans, pulling herself onto the top platform.

***

Lillian follows, climbing up behind her. Abby kneels at the edge of the slide and offers a hand, which Lillian doesn’t hesitate to take. She lets Abby pull her to the top, and she beams as they both collapse on the top platform. This is a step toward friendship.

Abby clutches her chest, struggling to catch her breath. It takes Lillian a second to clock the action and also pretend to be winded. Climbing the slide isn’t easy, but it’s not nearly as tiring as the humans make it out to be.

The human realm doesn’t have magic, but the delysum tea keeps Lillian strong.

Her mom can’t say the same thing. She tries to hide it, but Lillian sees the signs of exhaustion taking root. Her mother’s once-vibrant white hair now appears a dull gray, and her bright-violet eyes are tired. Even her body shape is changing, her once-perfect posture replaced with a slouch and her confident stride slowly transforming into a slow shuffle.

Abby lolls her head to the side and peers at Lillian. “I have popsicles at home.”

It takes Lillian a moment to remember what popsicles are. She’s still adjusting to the food the humans prefer to eat.

“Can I have one?” she asks.

***

Abby jumps up, nodding. She wants to show Lillian her newest treasure. It’s a bracelet-making kit, the same one all the girls at school have. Everybody at school has been exchanging them, but Lillian doesn’t have any.

“You can have one popsicle,” Abby says, brushing woodchips off her pants. “But the blue ones are mine.”

It’s her favorite flavor, and she’s not willing to share.

They make it halfway across the park before Abby abruptly spins and plants her hands on her hips. She studies Lillian from head to toe, silently evaluating.

“Are you really a faerie?” she asks.

Aaron tells her those things aren’t real, but she’s not sure if she believes him. He’s a bit of a liar. Besides, Lillian could be a faerie. She’s got weird, purple eyes and white hair. Abby doesn’t know what faeries look like, but she supposes Lillian could be one.

A few tense seconds pass before Lillian gives a jerky nod.

“Yes,” she says. “I’m a real faerie.”

Abby knew it. Aaron’s going to be so mad.

“Do you have powers?”

Lillian shakes her head. “No.”

Oh. That’s less cool. Still, Abby begins leading Lillian to her home. Her mom is cooking dinner, and she’ll be able to read them the instructions on the back of the bracelet box.