Lord of Embers(The Demon Queen Trials #2)(57)

“Mortals who died.”

Her smile faltered, and she let go of my arm. “I don’t think I’m dead. I’d know if I was dead, right?”

No one else here seemed to realize they were dead. With a lump in my throat, I asked, “What do you remember about how you got here?”

“The car disappeared as we were driving. Then I landed hard by a frozen forest. Oh, and there were caves… Rowan, I don’t think I’m dead.”

I swallowed hard. “It sounds like how I got here.” I took her by the hand. “Let’s see if we can get you out of here. Maybe you’re part demon.

Do you think you could be?”

She held out her hand, wiggling her fingers. “My mom said we were part Luciferian on her father’s side, but I never knew if it was true.

Maybe that’s why I’m so good at animal healing magic, don’t you think?

I’ve always been at the top of my class. Magic comes naturally to me.”

I glanced at the hut. “But how have you survived here?”

She heaved a deep sigh. “I’ve been healing sick cows. Someone let me use their old hut in exchange for helping their herd. They really value cows here. And goats. I need to get the fuck out of here before they realize what I am and hang me.”

I took her hand and dragged her along the shore. “I can show you how to get back.”

“Rowan, I cannot begin to tell you how happy I am that you found me. These people freak me the fuck out.”

“Trust me,” I said, “I know. I’ve already been hanged once.”

“

?”

W h at

“Oh, it’s okay. I got better. Think of it as a training exercise. The Dying God has taught me how to kill a king.”

“Did you go insane here?”

“Come on, Shai. I’ll explain along the way.”





C H A P T E R 3 0 — O R I O N

I slid my hands into the pockets of my coat as I stalked the streets of Salem. Night had fallen by the time I reached the town center, and the dark sea battered the shore nearby. My lips tasted of salt. Orange lights punctuated the wooden buildings around me, and inside, people were dining by roaring fires. The air smelled of roasting meat. Apart from the people, the underworld wasn’t really that bad.

If I breathed deeply, I could almost smell her floral scent here. Back in the City of Thorns, I’d been certain that Rowan was dead. Now, in the world of the dead, hope smoldered in my chest, and I felt myself coming to life again.

The sea wind stung my face, sharpening my senses—and I reminded myself how dangerous it was to hope. Was Rowan near?

Mortana had just been harping on that in Purgatory. Every time I came through that bloody cave, it was worse than the time before.

As I walked past the House of Seven Gables, with its flickering orange windows inset into black wood, the memory of Purgatory still haunted my thoughts.

I’d seen Mortana holding my mother’s heart in her hand. In the vision, she’d laughed at me, a wild sound that had echoed off the dungeon walls. My mother’s corpse hung behind her on a rope from the dungeon ceiling, and Ashur’s emaciated body lay at her feet. Behind her, heads on pikes cast shadows on the walls.

“You had a single purpose—to avenge those you loved. You promised Ashur you would take revenge on the mortals. You said you would kill me,” Mortana had exulted. “But what did you do instead? You fell for me again. And I have deceived you, of course. Haven’t you learned how stupid it is to hope? You were an idiot to trust me. I thought I’d taught you that lesson well. Looks like I need to try harder. I lied to you, and I’m coming for your throne now, Orion.”

I shook my head, banishing her from my thoughts, and glanced at the stocks. A different woman hung in them today, her hair filthy with mud. She looked at me with piteous eyes. For a moment, I thought of breaking the wood to set her free, but if I did that, she’d likely be hanged as a witch.

To the left, Goody Putnam’s tavern glowed with warmth and light. I peered inside, hoping to see Rowan’s beautiful shock of red hair.

My heart fell when I spied Goody Putnam through the windowpane, her cheeks flushed. I turned away and started for the Osborne Woods.

I’d taken but a few steps when Goody Putnam called after me.

“Goodman Ashur,” she shouted.

I turned to see her, pale hands clasped together, eyes gleaming with insane light. “Goodman Ashur, I am so very aggrieved to hear what happened to your wife.”

I felt as if she’d shoved a blade into my chest.

“My wife,” I repeated, hoping she’d fucking elaborate.

“Such an evil affair,” she said, stepping closer to me. “She seemed familiar the first time I saw her. A creature from a nightmare. A most foul creature. She was caught in the woods with the devil last night.”

I swallowed hard, torn between my need to hear more and the overwhelming desire to bash Goody Putnam’s head against a wall.

“Where is she now?”

The corner of her mouth twitched, and she licked her lips. “I have told everyone here that you must not have known—that you are a good man. But your wife was a witch. A demon. Judge Corwin hanged her on Gallows Hill as dawn broke.”

The world shifted beneath my feet, and darkness swallowed me. This was my fault for pushing her away.