Chapter 50
This will be my last letter. I don’t know why I’ve even written them. I haven’t been able to find the crown and open the door, and it feels as though I’m slowly being buried alive in the bones of our people. Just know that if there was a way to have you back, I would do it.
No matter the cost.
—Letter from Kiyan to the Queen, unsent
Kiyan
My magic flooded my veins once more and I felt as though my body were aflame after sitting in the cold for centuries.
I could feel everything—everything—the tap of a heartbeat from the falcon above, the roots of the plants below our feet, the pulse of the woman whose hand was in mine.
I had been able to access it previously if I concentrated, but now we were one and the same.
I was this land.
It felt natural, a part of my blood again. My eyes were wet with the realization that I’d forgotten what this kind of awareness felt like—and the knowledge that I could grow an entire forest in this battlefield if I wished. That life, once again, sparked at the end of my fingertips.
It had been so long since I remembered what that felt like.
Yaseema and I walked to Tirich Mir, her footsteps falling in beside me. After seeing Reza’s hands on her, watching him try to curse her, imagining never being able to get her back to me—draining his life was the only option I had.
It was the only thing I’d wanted to do.
And the way I had taken his life was something akin to the merging of my two powers—the thread of life I controlled and the spark of death I had unearthed beneath it.
And then Yaseema had broken the curse on Mishah.
I didn’t think there was a way to give River back what we’d lost. But when Yaseema put her hands on Mishah and brought her back to who she truly was, my heart thundered in my chest. When Mishah spoke, my lungs filled with fresh air, as if I could breathe for the first time in a hundred years.
We had a way to break the curse on the peris of River.
And now, lifting the barrier on the Mountain was within my grasp.
My family coming back was within my grasp.
But first, we had to find the door. We walked unbothered to the foot of Tirich Mir, stepping over bodies of Salt soldiers. Yaseema’s fingers were in mine, and I clasped her hand tight, my breath caught in my chest like a caged falcon, the feeling of rightness as she held on to me.
This must be what triumph felt like, what hope, for the first time in ten years, felt like.
Once we reached the foot of the Mountain, Yaseema called her own magic and those golden strings flowed out of her, like a woven chain curling through the air. It threaded up and across, forming an outline in the shape of a giant door on the side of the Mountain.
“It’s there,” she said, looking over at me, giving me a small smile.
I wanted to return that smile, but my hope was still a tentative beast. After everything, it was impossible not to be cautious.
I called my life magic, barely needing to think before the power of the earth answered me and roots grew from the ground like the flow of a river, surrounding us and lifting us up the Mountain.
My full power returning to me was a revelation. I’d spent half my life with it, and the other half without. When Yaseema had destroyed the King’s crown in Reza’s chest, I’d felt it flood back to me in waves, nearly overwhelming me on the battlefield.
Other fae from River felt it too, and I saw them spark with new, fresh energy.
And now I was steps away from fully restoring everything we had lost.
I carried us up Tirich Mir, following Yaseema’s magic and landing on an outcropping of rock that only appeared when we stepped on it.
I’d looked for the entrance myself so many times, climbing up the Mountain, searching for any sign that I could break into the prison my family was held in, but could never find it. It wasn’t lost on me that the only reason I was standing here now was because of the human girl beside me.
Steps formed in front of us leading into the Mountain, and beyond that a darkened corridor into the heart of Tirich Mir.
But I stood still, my breath suspended in the air, the crown clutched in my hand.
“Are you going to climb?”
I inhaled, my chest expanding, and took a step forward.
“What if Reza—”
“He was lying,” Yaseema said firmly. “I didn’t find anything in my research that said that Azari’s and Rusul’s crowns needed to work in concert with each other. Since Azari’s magic created the curse on the Mountain, it should be the one to unravel it.”
It requires blood.
That had been another assertion of Reza’s. Had he managed to get in my head so thoroughly I couldn’t get him out?
I wasn’t going to let his voice in anymore.
Yas took the crown from my hands and held it out to me. I realized what she wanted to do and exhaled, inclining my head and bending my knees so that she could reach. She placed it on my head with quiet gentleness.
I inhaled her, her soft lemon scent and the smell of parchment containing all her secrets. My skin prickled with awareness where she brushed it with her fingertips.
“Thank you,” I said, rising again. I grabbed her hand as we climbed up the steps, feeling her small fingers press tightly into mine. It was inconceivable that I hadn’t known her that long and now this human girl was the only one I needed beside me in this moment.
We made it to the top, where a long hallway lit with torches revealed two large stone doors.
I stopped short at seeing both doors.
They were the same, carved with ornate symbols and the stamp of the jasmine flower. The mark of Queen Azari.
“There’s two. Which one are we supposed to choose?”
Yaseema frowned, stepping forward. “There’s an inscription above them.”
She arched her head back, reading it aloud and murmuring to herself. Then she shook her head, her eyes narrowed at the stone plaque above the doors.
It wasn’t any peri language I was familiar with, and I couldn’t piece together the words.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, it doesn’t make any sense.” She mumbled to herself again, squinting at the words.
“What language is it?”
“It’s the language of the Court Queen Azari was from. I studied up on it when I worked at the Citadel.”
“Trust you to know more peri languages than I do. What does it say?”
She frowned again and a thick knot formed in my chest. I steadied my breathing and waited in the thick silence.
“Try a door,” she whispered, her voice sounding scared. “It doesn’t matter which.”
I stepped forward, placing my hand on the first door on the right. Nothing happened. I gripped the ornate silver handle, the filigree carved into the shape of a river dragon, its tail curling underneath it.
It didn’t move.
I tried to call on my magic through the Queen’s crown, in case that was needed. Concentrating on pulling my life magic through the crown, I felt something answer, but only slightly, and the magic dissipated as soon as it came.
“Try the other one.” There was a desperate edge to her voice, and I recognized panic there.
I cast her a swift glance, my own heart racing, before placing my palms on the other door, which looked exactly the same as the first—carved obsidian, with a silver dragon handle. This time it glowed green, and relief rushed through me.
My magic called to me, the power of my bloodline, the life of all the Mountain pulsing through me.
It recognized me.
And for the first time, I could properly feel them, my family, each pulse of life of my mother, brother, sister. I had known they were still alive, had felt them before, but this was different. Now, I could hear their heartbeats, recognize each breath they took.
I lifted the handle of the door, adrenaline fueling my blood, my heart pounding so loudly it felt as though it echoed through the small chamber.
The door opened.
A sob caught in my throat.
I took a tentative step forward, finally allowing myself to hope. After all this time, I could finally hope.
I wasn’t even sure if I recalled the sound of my mother’s voice. I couldn’t trust if the memory of my brother’s laugh was true or what my sister’s smile looked like. My chest filled with unfamiliar elation as I took another step.
“Wait.” Yaseema gripped my arm hard, her hand shaking.
I glanced over at her. Her face was pale, lips bloodless. She looked as though she might vomit.
“What is it? Yaseema, what’s wrong?”
I turned to her fully, grabbing her by the shoulders.
“I . . .” She turned her face to me, her eyes wild. “The inscription above the doors.” She murmured the last words, and her voice cracked at the end.
“What does it say?” The hope in my chest stilled, waiting, needing, to be released.
It was her face that stopped me, that had my heart in my throat and my breath trapped in my lungs.
“It doesn’t make sense,” she whispered violently. “It says . . .” She swallowed, swinging her gaze back to the door. “It says a trade must be made.”
A frown pulled at my brow, and I looked up at the other door. “Trade? What kind of trade.”
She looked back at me, the panic clear across her face. “Kiyan . . .”
“What. Kind. Of. Trade?” I gritted out, a black hole of fear eating at my stomach. “The crown? Is that what it wants?”
I thought of Reza’s words again, still not able to get him out of my head—there is always a cost.
“No . . . it doesn’t say anything about the crown.” She pointed up at the inscription above the door that had opened. “Royal blood shall be paid.” She swallowed, wrapping her arms around her body, still shaking. “It says it can only be opened once. The trade only made once. And with royal blood.”
A trade must be made. Royal blood shall be paid.
It wasn’t about the crown. It was never about the crown.
All this time, the answer was right in front of me.
I took Queen Azari’s crown from my head and handed it to her.
“Stop.” The word broke off in her throat, an ugly, deep sound coming from her chest.
I moved to face her, my future clearer than ever. My own heart broke—for everything Yaseema and I had fought for together.
“Yas.” I slipped my hand under her chin, lifting her eyes to mine. They were wet with large, unshed tears.
“You can’t,” she whispered, the words barely audible.
“If this is the only way to free them, I’m going to do it. You know I am. I am the royal blood that needs to be paid.”
“But I can’t do this without you. I need you.”
“No, you don’t. You never have. You gave me the power to kill Reza. You destroyed the King’s crown. Your magic allowed us to find the door in the Mountain. Everything that I have now is because of you. I needed you. Don’t ever forget your strength.”
She grabbed onto my arms, and I felt my heart crack in two. “Let me come with you.”
No. I couldn’t let her do that.
I shook my head, my stomach curdling at the very thought of condemning her to the Tirich Mir curse. This was something that was meant for me alone.
“You know I can’t let you do that. You can’t let yourself do that.”
“I know.” Her words were the softest sound, and I closed my eyes, not allowing myself to feel anything yet.
If I fell apart now, if I allowed myself to sink into the black, sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, I would never walk through that door.
“You have to stop the Citadel,” I said to her quietly, my voice like a prayer. “You need to bring down the wall. Give them their life magic back.”
She nodded, tears trailing down her cheeks. I followed one with my thumb, then bent down to press my mouth to hers, the salt of her tears mingling with the taste of her.
She sobbed against my mouth, and I pulled her to my chest, looking in the direction of the open door. My own tears were unshed, and I forced them back behind the burn in my eyes.
“Tell my mother I love her,” I said softly.
She let out a bone-deep sob against my skin.
“Tell my brother I’ll have a bout with him again soon. And give my sister this.” I lifted the chain from my neck, revealing the ring that was still on it. “It’s hers, she’ll want it back.”
“Don’t.” She shook her head. “Don’t go.”
“What would you do?” My words were caught in my throat.
I’d likely never see her again. Not if she went back across the River. I’d likely never see anyone again. Her hands were soft in mine, and I stroked the inside of her palm with my thumb, relishing the warmth of her skin, knowing this was the last time I’d feel it.
“What would you do, if you had the chance to free them? Your mother? Grandmother? Cousin? What would you give for them?”
She closed her eyes, a new set of tears falling. “Anything.” Her voice was ragged, raw, pulled out of her by the thorns in my vines, growing through her heart.
I nodded, meeting her eyes, tracing my index finger around the delicate gold spectacles I’d given her. A small smile formed on my lips. “If yours is the last face I ever see, scholar, I’m glad it was you.”
“I’ll break the curse on the Mountain. I promise you. I’ll find a way.”
I shook my head. “You’ve got bigger things to do now.” Then my smile was full-blown.
“Light the River on fire.”