Kingdom of the Cursed (Kingdom of the Wicked, #2) (46)

Celestia clipped a small portion of my hair, sprinkled it over one part herbs and two part petals. She mashed everything together with the mortar and pestle until it formed a powder.

Once the consistency was to her liking, she whispered a charm in a tongue I didn’t know, then added a few splashes of the sparkling blue liquid to the mixture.

She poured everything into a silver chalice etched with runes and stirred vigorously. “It won’t be the most pleasant drink, but the Tears of Saylonia will help with the taste.”

“Tears of Saylonia?”

“Some say she’s the goddess of grief and sorrow. But there’s more to her than that. The tears are gathered at a temple in the Shifting Isles.”

“Where are they located? Here?”

She slid her attention to the prince as she stirred the drink in the opposite direction, the contents splashing from the sudden shift. “It’s almost ready.”

Wrath watched every step the matron made toward me with a dangerous gleam in his eyes. As if one wrong movement would signal the fight he’d been primed for.

I ignored his odd behavior and returned my attention to the approaching woman. “I’ve worn the amulet for decades, and I’ve never experienced pain like that before.”

“You visited the Crescent Shallows, did you not?”

“Yes.” My hair was damp and there was little use in lying. “How could you tell?”

“A good guess. Certain magic cannot enter those waters without grave consequences. Some say the water there once belonged to the goddesses and burns away that which doesn’t belong. Others believe the Feared seek to reclaim what was taken from them. And they do not care how they succeed in restoring their power, only that they do. Vengeance is a brutal pursuit.”

“The Feared?” I searched my memory for any stories or legends from childhood, but the name was unfamiliar. “Is that what you call the goddesses, or the demon princes?”

“Enough.” Wrath’s voice was quiet, but his tone brooked no room for argument. “Some would be wise to keep superstitions and old folktales to themselves.” He folded his arms against his chest, his expression hard. “Is her tincture finished?”

I glanced down at the devil’s horn charm. Wrath had told me to leave it on. I gave him an accusing look. “You neglected to tell me about any of the dangers. Now you’re concerned?”

Celestia narrowed her eyes, but didn’t speak for another few moments as she continued stirring the tincture. “If he knew the effect it would have on you, I doubt he would have taken you there. It’s his other secret you need to inquire about. He is fully aware of how that one affects you both. And yet he hasn’t uttered a single word. I wonder why that is? Perhaps we’ve finally found your Achilles’ heel, your majesty.”

Wrath went preternaturally still. The temperature in the room plummeted enough for me to see my breath. Jars rattled as the shelves shook from the force of the power he was holding back, the temper he was battling. The matron had clearly struck her intended target.

Intrigued even more by his response, I studied him closely. He was almost unrecognizable. There was no outward shift in his cold features, but I sensed the immense wave of magic he drew in like the tide.

“Careful,” he warned. “You’re treading on dangerous ground.”

“Bah.” She waved her hand at him, completely unconcerned with the growing hum of anger in the air. She handed me the chalice and motioned for me to drink.

I raked my attention over Wrath, and whatever had ignited his namesake sin vanished when he met my worried stare. The temperature returned to normal. He nodded at the cup. “It’s all right. Drink.”

I brought the concoction to my lips and halted. The smell was not even remotely pleasant. I steeled myself before the pain returned and downed it all in one gulp, ignoring the saccharine yet bitter herb taste. My symptoms vanished.

“You’re all set, child.”

I gave her the chalice back and watched as she tossed the wooden bowl into the flames. It burned to ash within mere seconds. “Should I take off the amulet now?”

She looked to Wrath, one silver brow raised. I didn’t swing around in time to see his reaction, but the matron pursed her lips. Her focus darted to my neck before she met my eyes again. “No. The charm won’t trouble you anymore.”

“Watch yourself, Celestia.”

“Go swing a sword or toss a fist at another chunk of rock and begone. Did you not think I heard about your grand show of temper? Domitius and Makaden are fools. But only a larger fool would act as you did. Some might think new sins are stirring. You ought to be mindful, your highness. Others are watching. And they take particular interest in your court.”

“Mind what you say.” His fury whipped around like the gusting winds of a storm. She smiled, but it wasn’t the kind of loving expression a grandmother would give to her grandchild. It was edged in steel. Wrath’s expression was worse. “I don’t take orders from you.”

“Then consider it a suggestion. Regardless, it’s irresponsible to not tell her.”

“Yes, I should very much like to know what you’re both talking about.” Now that my pain was gone, I was getting annoyed. I knew Wrath was still keeping secrets. Secrets that even Celestia felt I had the right to know. And after what just happened between us in the shallows, I wouldn’t tolerate them anymore. I gave Wrath a pointed look. “Someone needs to answer my question. Now.”