Chapter 46
Corvin
When the princess collapses, I’m ashamed to say I’m relieved. Quickly, I catch her in my arms and shake her gently. “Princess, remember what happened last time. You have to let them go.”
Her eyelids flicker, but she doesn’t respond. Alaric will know what to do.
Shoving the dead king unceremoniously into the crypt, I slam the door with a nudge of my hip and push the bolt into its fixing.
Immediately the banging starts up again, but I ignore it.
I hurry up the steps, tucking my wings in tight to pass through the narrow passageway.
It takes me a few wrong turns down dark corridors to get to the tower room we entered through.
As soon as I find it, évandre rushes over from his position by the chair where we tied the queen. “What happened?”
“The same as last time. I cannot rouse her.”
“Lay her on the bed.”
I do and we both look down at her. “No sign of the others?”
évandre shakes his head.
From her chair, the queen glares at us. évandre has stuffed a gag into her mouth, which seems wise. I’m tempted to blindfold her too, just so she can’t see our princess like this.
At least Guinevere’s skin is healing. Where it was sore and blistered before, it has smoothed, and the only traces of the angry red welts are faint pink patches.
Strangely, her hair has also started to grow back again, nearly reaching her shoulders now where it was burned away right up to her scalp before.
Reaching down, I stroke her face gently. “Come back to us.”
She doesn’t stir.
“I’m going to fly out to see what the others are doing. It will be dawn soon. We cannot wait long.”
“I will watch over them both.” évandre squeezes my shoulder, and I give him the best smile I can muster. We have seen her come back from this state before, but I worry perhaps there was more damage done that time than we knew.
Going to the window I lean out and spread my wings, letting my body fall before opening them wide and lifting myself into the dark sky.
I’m not flying long before a familiar shape appears on the horizon in front of me, and soon it grows big enough that I’m certain it is Raban. He’s alone, and I do not know whether to interpret this as a good or bad sign.
As we grow close enough for me to read his expression, I’m not left in any doubt. His brows are creased into a worried frown. “Please tell me you do not have bad news too,” he says as soon as we’re close enough.
“I’m afraid I do. What’s yours?”
“She’s raised the dead again. Monsters too. Alaric let them through the gates so they did not knock the wall down. Is she—?” He breaks off, but I do not need him to finish the question.
I nod. “How far is Alaric?”
“He is riding here as we speak. Not far behind.”
“Then let’s return to her.”
By the time Alaric runs into the tower room, his body is completely healed and the princess looks almost herself again. Only the last smudges of ash on her face and her burned clothing indicate she was so terribly hurt only hours before.
Not a moment too soon. The sky is already losing the deep black of true night. The predawn is swift and will not linger.
Alaric lets out a muttered curse when he sees Guinevere laid out on the bed, but he doesn’t hesitate to go to her. Raban sits beside her with her hands gathered in his, but he releases them when he looks up and sees Alaric.
“No. Stay.” The tall hunter gestures to Raban. “She needs us all.”
évandre and I step closer as well. Finding a place on the bed, I crawl as close as I can until I can touch the cool skin of her thigh.
She’s utterly still as Alaric cups her cheek and leans close. I try to tell myself this will work a second time. He leans down and grazes his lips softly against hers, and the sight stirs something in me as it always does. The two of them are like two sides of the same coin.
But as he draws back, the princess still doesn’t move.
“What happened?” he whispers, still not looking away from her.
My voice feels croaky when I speak. “It was the king… in the crypt.”
Alaric looks around then, and his face—always pale—is ashen. “I warned her, but she did not listen.”
“She could not bear to let him go,” I tell him.
He falls silent, laying his head on her chest for a long moment while évandre, Raban, and I look on. “What do you need, princess?”
évandre clears his throat. “She never got to say goodbye.”
Alaric sits up. “No. Because I tore her away and stole that from her.”
Raban places a gentle hand on Alaric’s thigh.
Something occurs to me then, and I kick myself for not thinking of it sooner. “What if we gave her the chance?”
They all look at me, and I shift uncomfortably. Playing with her dead father’s corpse is not going to be pretty, but if it will help her…
I look at Alaric. “Can you inhabit the body? Bring it here? Tell her she can let him go?”
He runs a hand over his face. “I do not know, and I do not like it.”
“But will it work?” I insist.
His expression hardens. “It might. And you are right, we have to try. By the gods, I hope we are doing the right thing.”