Chapter 32 #3
I eye Nalina. When Grandmother died, I was twelve. She couldn’t have been more than sixteen or seventeen. Just a few years older than Tristan and me.
More moths flutter down, as if drawn to the Dead Queen in her vulnerability. As if they’re comforting her. Their wings open and close where they perch on her veil, her dress and along her skeletal arms.
“Your father didn’t just murder me in the borderlands.” The Dead Queen’s voice is cold. “He tortured me, tied me down, and watched as his feral foxhounds tore me apart, bit by bit.”
Her torn flesh, the exposed bone. I’d assume it was natural rot and decay, but she died that way. My father’s beasts ate her flesh straight down to the bone.
“He left me there in the mud. He thought I was dead, but my heart still beat. Barely.” She pauses, studying me.
“As a reward for all of my service, the previous Dead Queen nominated me to take her place. Only one Dead Queen can reign, so she passed from this earth. She left me with this ruined kingdom and the endless torture that this war brings.”
She sounds resigned, not what you’d expect from a woman given a throne. But I wouldn’t want to be in her place either. It would have been kinder to let her die in peace.
“When you say Tristan and Nalina helped create you,” I ask. “What do you mean?”
The two Wolves stiffen, glancing at each other.
Beneath her black veil, she shakes her head. “The secrets of reanimation are sacred in Annwyn.”
I don’t budge. “If you expect me to be a weapon for Annwyn, then you’d better start by telling the truth.”
The Dead Queen takes a moment before she nods once.
Nalina begins to protest. “My queen, these rituals are secret for a reason. I don’t trust the Fox.”
“I know.” The Dead Queen stares at me for a long time as the undead moths on her dress open and close their tattered wings in a silent dance. “But I do.”
Slowly, she lifts her veil with her skeletal fingers. The moths on the thin fabric take flight, waiting until the veil settles again. They return to perch on my grandmother’s corpse.
Every time I see her face, I struggle not to shrink back.
But this time, I take her in. All of her.
Every mark, every bared bone and torn shred of flesh.
Now that I know how it happened, who did it to her, I feel a spark of pity.
I know what it’s like to feel my father’s wrath, but not to this extent. She endured a brutal death.
My eyes drift out the window to the bonfire smoke drifting up from the Spires. I will make him pay for what he did to her.
The Dead Queen steps forward slowly. She raises her arm and traces my cheek with a cold, hard finger bone. “I want him to tell you.” She turns to Tristan.
I turn and focus all my attention on the gray-eyed Wolf.
“What’s the secret to eternal life?” I ask, my voice low, daring him not to tell me.
His eyes are sad, but they never leave mine. “To live eternally, there must be sacrifice. When the future queen gives up her life, she must be bathed in the light of the full moon, so the Moon Goddess can witness the act of devotion.” He pauses.
“That can’t be all there is to it.”
“No.” He swallows hard. “That’s not all. Her heart must be stolen from her chest before it stops beating … stuck in the moment between life and death. It must be stolen by someone devoted to her cause for the rest of their life.”
Something hardens in my chest. “Who?” I ask, my voice low and threatening. “Who tore out my grandmother’s still-beating heart?”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Then explain it to me!”
“Why does it matter?”
“Who was it?”
“You know who.”
“Say it.”
“It was me.” His voice is barely a whisper.
My heart fractures like obsidian. “All this time. You knew. You knew I was looking for my grandmother’s killer. You knew what happened. You lied to me.”
He shakes his head. “I never meant—”
I push him full in the chest. He doesn’t stop me.
“It doesn’t matter what you meant, Tristan!” I hit him with my fists, as tears fill my eyes. “It’s what you did. You should have told me!” I’m trembling with fury as I push him again.
“I couldn’t. I’m bound to her, Red.” His breathing is heavy now, his eyes wide, begging me to believe him.
He almost looks afraid. “The person who steals the heart of the Dead Queen is changed forever. They’re bound to serve the dead for the remainder of their lives.
That sacrifice can never be revoked. Blood calls to blood. ”
“I don’t care about your duty to your queen.” Tears are falling in earnest now, trailing down my cheeks. I’m too furious to care who sees.
His voice is sharp, but there’s an undercurrent of regret beneath it. “You can’t possibly understand what that means. I can’t betray her. I can’t tell her secrets.” He lets out a shaky breath. “Not even to the woman I love.”
The word hangs between us, frozen in midair.
“You know nothing of love.” Anger makes my voice tremble. My vision is blurry with hot tears. “You’re a Wolf. I’m the Fox Heir. And this,” I point between us. “This was never more than a fantasy.”
My tears fall as fast as my feet pound the ground. I turn and run.