Kingdom of the Cursed (Kingdom of the Wicked, #2) (116)

A few painful moments and frozen fingers later, my nails scraped against frozen earth. I tried scratching the surface and only succeeded in breaking several nails.

I stood, hands fisted at my sides, and tried to rein in my temper. The Sin Corridor sensed my momentary lapse in control and pounced. My favorite sin unleashed my fury, and I screamed, the sound muffled and smothered by the freshly falling snow.

I released all of my emotions, kicking at the snow, snapping branches off, and beating the ground. Sweat beaded my forehead and I couldn’t stop. I brought my fist to the tree and punched it as hard as I could.

“Godsdamnit!”

Pain lashed up my arm. I winced at my bloody knuckles, the fight and fury immediately leaving me. Godsdamn fool’s errand. Ridiculous riddles and… a thought occurred to me as blood dripped into the snow. On a hunch, I smeared a few drops on the tree, right across the Roman numeral seven. There was no moment of hesitation—the trunk clicked open, revealing a set of stairs hidden within it. I walked around the tree again. It didn’t seem possible for such a large set of stairs to fit inside, but I was finished asking questions. Now was the time for answers.

I said a prayer to the goddesses and stepped inside. The hidden door closed behind me, and torches flared to life. I went to grab my dagger again, but some innate feeling warned me against it. I don’t know how I knew with such certainty that I would not find a foe here. In fact, I feared any act of aggression might work against me. If I was about to locate a divine object, I needed to have faith that all would be well.

I inhaled deeply and pushed on. The stairs were wooden, semicircular, and curved around an enormous trunk. I took sure, confident steps, excitement and trepidation pumping through my veins the closer I got to the bottom. At the ground level a small stone chamber greeted me, a solitary pedestal in its center. And there it was. It had to be. I paused, taking in the sheer beauty of the mirror that was on display. Crafted from what appeared to be a combination of mother-of-pearl and raw moonstone, it was the most magnificent thing I’d ever seen.

It glowed from within. I stood before it, hardly noticing the tears spilling down my cheeks until the drops hit the mirror and sizzled. I set my satchel down and went to reach for it when candles suddenly lit around the chamber.

Seven ghostly shadows flickered in the light. They didn’t speak. Did not make a move toward me. They waited. The Seven Sisters had arrived. It was not fear, but awe I felt, deep in my soul. And a sense of familiarity.

“Hello, I’m—”

“About to make a critical choice. What you set into motion here, cannot be undone.” Celestia emerged from the opposite end of the chamber, her strange starlit eyes glowing. I should have been surprised by her appearance, but I wasn’t. “I offer one last chance, child. Walk away.”

“I cannot.”

She gave me a long look, then smiled. It was one I’d seen before, half-hidden behind a cloak, deep in the Bloodwood Forest. Now I was surprised. I stared at her for another second, unable to believe the truth before me. “You’re the Crone.” She nodded and I took a quick breath to digest the information. “Does Wrath know?”

“We mustn’t waste time speaking of him. I am calling in my favor, Daughter.” She strode over to the Triple Moon Mirror and gazed at it lovingly. “Once you activate the mirror, I ask that you return my spell book.”

“That’s all?”

“No, child.” She turned her attention back to me. “That’s everything.”

Celestia waved her hand at me, and a strange tingle settled over my skin, feeling as if invisible threads were snipped and whipping across my body in rapid succession.

A wave of magic bubbled up inside me and I dove into my source, almost crying out in elation when I tunneled past the wall that had erupted.

She gave me a knowing look and motioned toward the shadows. They peeled away from the wall and moved beside her. “When you receive your answers, come find me. I’ll expect my payment without delay.”





THIRTY-FIVE


I sunk onto the floor inside the magic tree and flipped through the spell book, the paper rustling like dried leaves as my fingers trembled. A note that hadn’t been there before fell out. I gingerly picked it up and read the carefully penned lines.


Some truths do not grant the freedom you seek. Once known you can’t ever go back.

Choose wisely.

—S.



Samael. Wrath. His note was eerily similar to the warning issued by the Crone, but for me, no matter what, there was no going back or moving forward until I granted my sister eternal rest and peace. I traced the S he’d signed the message with, his truth I could never again deny.

I wasn’t surprised Wrath had found the stolen grimoire. He was, after all, searching for a spell to restore his cursed wings. However, I was surprised that he’d left the spell book alone, even after deducing that I’d take it from his House of Sin.

He knew firsthand how truth could cut as much as it had the power to heal. I’d shown him that. He had proven through his actions that he wasn’t as evil as the world believed. He was a blade of justice and he cut down those who’d been condemned without emotion.

A soldier following orders, ruled by duty and honor.

And I’d been unable to tell him I saw that. Saw him. He was the balance of right and wrong. He was neither good nor evil; he simply existed, just as he’d once told me.