Chapter 2
Petra
“So…” I said quietly, my eyes falling on the expanse of water before us. “I died.”
“‘Fraid so,” Larka answered easily.
Of course I was dead. I’d been defeated, then fell into the Darkness Beyond.
Looking around here, though, you’d have no idea of the carnage that had just unfolded mere minutes ago.
The only reminder of what had happened was the blood and dirt and soot that clung to my armor where I’d discarded it in a heap on the grass.
Elin had excused herself to the cabin when Larka and I settled on a bench in the garden, surrounded by the most beautiful array of flowers I’d ever seen.
Trellises were wrapped in vivid green vines dotted with tiny purple blooms. Daisies, some bright orange and others brilliant yellow, swayed in the breeze beside a plant boasting some kind of massive buds waiting to burst open .
“I planted all different colors to make it look like the harbor on the day of Cindregala,” she said wistfully, a fondness in her voice. “Do you remember?”
“Of course,” I whispered, my throat tight.
“The day may not have ended in the prettiest way, but it was still the best day of my life. We had so much fun.” Her sigh was content, like she wouldn’t change a single thing about that day.
Even though I could see Larka beside me now, healthy and beautiful and twice as vibrant as she’d ever been in life, the memory of that day still ripped through me.
I could still smell the smoke, feel the dread, see the whole thing in screaming detail.
My lungs protested the deep, steadying breath I forced into them.
“I’m sorry, Larka,” I started, the guilt far too overwhelming to ignore. “I should’ve–”
“Shut the fuck up,” Larka scoffed, butting her shoulder into mine as she cut me off.
Always so eloquent, Larka. “I don’t want an apology.
Obviously, it didn’t turn out too badly for me here.
” She gestured toward the beauty that surrounded us, the sparkling waters of the sea.
The colors were brighter here, the air sweeter and easier to breathe now that the smoke had dissipated from my brain.
I straightened suddenly. “What if…” I trailed off, trying to find the words. “I had people back there, back…in life.” I hiked a thumb over my shoulder, as if life were just around the corner and not around…what, the realm? “How will I know if they’re here?”
“Well,” Larka started, one side of her mouth pulling up in thought.
“There was a rather large group of people that arrived about a year ago. Elin told me that was because of the battle. That’s when she arrived.
I was just so damn happy you weren’t a part of that group.
It’s great here, as you can see, but life is…
life. It’s better to have a long one.” Larka paused, her head cocking to one side as she considered her next words.
“If you’re looking for so meone, they would’ve come through the Gates. But you… You sort of just…appeared.”
“Appeared?”
Larka shrugged. “I think you may have fallen from the sky,” she said, as if it were a completely normal sentence. “You weren’t here one moment, and the next, you were.”
My head dropped back against the bench as I swallowed hard. This was all so overwhelming. It was just…done. My life was done. Malosym had won. Evil had overcome good. What did that mean?
I could feel Larka’s eyes on my face. “Want to tell me everything?” she asked nonchalantly.
I wasn’t sure she understood the magnitude of what she was asking for. “How long do you have?”
Larka’s mouth twisted as she looked to the sky in thought. “I think I have forever.”
The breath I let out was heavy, and I opened my mouth only to snap it shut again. Where was I supposed to start?
I did my best, trying not to leave anything out. Things I’d thought had been tiny, insignificant details at the time turned out to be fundamental elements of Malosym’s plan. I backtracked so many times, it was a wonder Larka could keep up with the story.
It seemed like every single person I’d ever known had a hidden identity.
Castemont was Malosym. Calomyr was Belin Cal Myrin, the Invisible King.
Miles was actually Cal’s brother, Tobyas, and Tobyas was thought to have died when he was twelve.
Ludovicus was… Well, he was Ludovicus, but he’d been under the spell of blood magic, controlled by Malosym and bent to his twisted will.
Even my parents weren’t really my parents, because my real parents were the fucking Keepers of the Saints.
Recounting much of it was like picking at a wound that had yet to heal. The words burned on the way out, hindsight glaring at me, screaming at me that I should’ve known, should’ve seen the signs that something wasn’t right. It was all so …
“Fucked up,” Larka murmured. “That’s a lot of shit to go through, Petra.”
A heavy sigh escaped my lips as I crossed one ankle over the other, digging my heel into the silvery gravel. “Yeah.”
“Anything else?” she jeered.
“I’m sure I’m forgetting something.”
“And you’re not only a queen, but a…legend come to life?”
I dropped my head back. “I was until the Bloodsinger in Blindbarrow sacrificed my powers and I lost them.”
“Now you’re just a queen,” she teased. “A regular old queen. They’ll probably give you some outrageously gaudy funeral.
Remember how ridiculous King Umfray’s was?
The parades? They went on for weeks.” I huffed a laugh at the memory of the flowers in the street, trampled by the horses following behind the late king’s carriage.
Larka blew a breath through her lips before she went quiet for a moment. “How’s Ma?”
“I had her stay behind in Taitha. I didn’t want her anywhere near the battle. So as far as I know, she’s safe. But…” My sigh was mangled as I pushed it through a tight jaw. “To be completely honest Larka, I’m trying really hard not to hold resentment toward her. For everything.”
Larka lifted a brow. “Wow, queenhood has really changed you. Look at you, addressing your emotions instead of channeling them all into anxiety.”
My chuckle was involuntary, but there was pain behind it I couldn’t do much to hide.
“She put so much on me, Larka. It was really, really hard for a really long time.” I nodded, staring at my lap as the weight of reality crashed into me again like a cannonball to the chest. “Then she married a man I thought was an Eserenian lord, and it all seemed like it was going to get better. But…it just didn’t.
The weight was still there, it just morphed into something dipped in gold and covered with jewels.
And at the end of it all, Malosym got his wish.
The Daughter of Katia is dead.” A pang of hurt rang through my chest as I thought about Castemont’s proposal and the effort he put in to get my blessing to marry Ma.
My brow furrowed. “And you know the worst part of it all? I think she really loved him. And I thought he really loved her, too.”
“Fuck him,” Larka murmured, eyes on the water. “And fuck her, too.”
I jolted. “Larka.”
“No. Fuck her for doing that to you. I can say that. What’s going to happen, they’ll send me to Hell?” She scoffed, folding her arms over her chest. “I love her, but that wasn’t fair.”
I love her, but that wasn’t fair. Those words settled something deep inside me. The feeling suddenly had a label, a neat little box I could tuck it into. I loved her. She was my mother. But it wasn’t fair.
“Is she here?” I asked quietly. She’d stayed behind in Taitha with Solise during the battle, and I assumed she’d be safe there. But that was when I thought we were up against the Saint of Pain, not Malosym.
“Not yet,” Larka answered. “But believe me, when she walks through those Gates, I’ll be giving her a piece of my mind.”
My laugh was short-lived before it quieted.
A hollowness opened inside me, nestling into the spot beside where my powers should be.
It was the cold realization of truth. Malosym had won, but what did that mean?
What was the state of the realm? “I left everyone behind to deal with the fallout,” I whispered.
“You say it as if you made that choice yourself. You didn’t want to die.”
My teeth gnawed my bottom lip, a feeling of despair pitting my gut.
I’d been ready to die to take Castemont down, even though I hadn’t wanted to.
But back in Inkwell, that desire had been there.
The thought of dying followed me like an incessant drum beat only I could hear, the thud, thud, thud growing louder with each passing day of insurmountable grief.
I wanted to end it all, take away the pain of barely surviving.
The relief of death was so close, all it would’ve taken was a single step from the clifftop.
I kept that to myself, though. Knowing Larka, it would weigh on her as guilt that wasn’t hers to bear.
“So,” she said excitedly, her chin dropping so she could look at me from beneath her lashes. “The man from Cindregala was going to kill you but fell in love with you instead?”
I dropped my head back, unable to keep myself from smiling. “Yep. Cal.”
“How disgustingly romantic.” Larka’s eyes fell somewhere over my head, her voice loud enough to get Elin’s attention inside the cabin. “Didn’t I say that Elin? Didn’t I say Petra was going to fall in love with that man at Cindregala?”
Elin’s face appeared in one of the windows, a knowing smile on her face. “You did.”
Larka’s smile was mischievous, her nose crinkled just slightly. “I did. I told her that day. And he was the Invisible King the whole time?”
I inhaled deeply through my nose. “It’s all a bit mad, isn’t it?”
“I’ll say.”