Page 24 of These Vile Hearts

The Myrtle Queen raises her glass now, and I mimic the gesture. “Cheers, Miss Sinclair. We shall see if you live up to your father’s legacy. But be vigilant. The Redwood King loves to play games.”

7

Maddox

Ihave never seen so much gold in all my life, let alone worn it.

A golden gown, golden jewelry, golden shoes, and a delicate golden mask decorate my body, with a splash of golden glitter painted across my eyelids. It looks like King Midas threw up on me.

“Does the king have a thing for gold, or do you guys just really like color schemes?” I ask Drosera and Atlas as they guide me out of the cavernous kingdom.

“The king has a thing for goldandmortals,” Drosera answers. “So you should have no trouble drawing him to you.”

“You mean you don’t think he will be drawn to my dazzling personality and stunning beauty?”

Drosera merely snorts.

“I thought mortals couldn’t go into the Redwood Kingdom. How does he have a thing for them if they’re never around?”

“They can be brought in by a dryad. And they can see with the help of glamours and tieg wine.”

“What’s tieg—”

“It’s what I just told you,” she snaps. “It enables mortals tosee.Fills them with wonder and excitement rather than horror at being snuck into a hidden world by a horned creature.”

“Oh, okay. I know exactly what it is now, thanks.”

Don’t drink the wine, indeed.

We climb a narrow set of stone stairs that lets out into a long passage lined with human skulls. I press my hand to the golden dagger now tied to my thigh—the dagger meant for the Redwood King’s heart.

“If I live through this, you’ll have to give me the name of your interior decorator. Very macabre chic.”

A wicked smirk rolls across Drosera’s cool visage. “Oh, I can show you exactly how we acquire those decorations if you’d like.”

I pretend her remark doesn’t strike terror deep into the marrow of my decorative bones.

“So, uh, what’s it take for a human to end up as interior design here?” Hopefully, it isn’t that they failed their pact with the Myrtle Queen.

“Most of those are from decades ago, when your kind deemed it necessary to fell thousands of our trees.”

“So these are mostly…”

“Axmen,” Drosera answers before I finish the question. “Yes.”

“I see.”

“No different from you building your empires from our skeletons. It may seem grotesque to you, but how do you think a log cabin looks to us?”

I hate that she has a point.

The passage lets out into dense foliage. Drosera and Atlas step lightly between the trees without making a sound. I trample after them, cursing under my breath as my dress catches on fallen branches and sharp rocks.

The ground smooths and slopes downward into a valley of myrtlewood trees as gargantuan as the one behind us. Branches iced inmoss and lichen twine together high above, forming a roof of sorts. A rushing river cuts through the center of the tree city, bisected by tree root roads. Tittering laughter and celestial singing pulse in and out like cicada song. A swarm of indigo fairies flits past us, twirling through the twilight. Dryads traverse the trails, ducking into houses built within tree trunks.

“And regular people can’t see this place?” I reach out a hand to touch a hanging vine coated in orange flowers.

“They can’t seeus. But they could trample through here if they wanted.” Drosera grips the handle of the largest of her many weapons strung along her belt. “We make sure they don’t.”