Page 95 of The Dead Queen

“Are you sure you’re alright, Sienna?” Hunter asks. The worried creases around his eyes are amplified by the firelight.

I tuck my arms under my red cloak to hide the shaking. He doesn’t need to know that my chest aches and my core feels scraped clean. The light is gone. Nothing rises when I call it. There’s only emptiness.

We made it out of the fog just in time.

“You burned out, didn’t you?” Hunter asks, his voice quiet.

I bite my tongue, refusing to admit he was right. “We didn’t have a choice.”

Hunter nods. “I know. You were remarkable out there. Truly.” He heaves a shaky breath. “We would have died without you. Thank you.”

Tears threaten my eyes, but I’m not sure if they’re from relief or fear. I don’t know how long this burnout will last. And I’m afraid of what could happen to us without it.

Hunter sits next to me and reaches for my hand, but I pull away.

“Don’t,” I say a little too sharply.

Hurt flashes across his face, but he nods. “I get it. Just …” He pauses, searching for the right words. “When you need me, I’m here.” He hesitates, then stands and walks away.

The night is quiet, but for the crackling fire and the hoot of a distant owl. We sit in silence, each lost in our own thoughts. The horrors of the battlefield slowly fade into the recent past. Above us, the skies are gorgeously clear. I’ve never been so thankful to see stars in all my life.

Along the darkened horizon, the Spires stand haloed in moonlight. Their icy peaks are a clear mark of Annwyn territory. We’ll reach the base of those mountains by tomorrow evening. Then, Tristan will finally tell me what happened to my grandmother, our deal complete. After that, Hunter and I will have to find a safe harbor somewhere my father can’t reach us.

A pit forms in my stomach. Tomorrow, I’ll have my answers. I should be filled with excitement. Years of searching will finally come to an end. So why am I inexplicably filled with sorrow? A twinge in my heart tells me exactly why.

My eyes dart to where Tristan sits, staring up at the stars.

Chapter 29

When we head out at dawn, the world is quiet. The Spires loom in the distance, a morning haze covering its peaks in a white shroud.

We don’t speak much as we head north over hills and through valleys filled with dried grasses and purple fall flowers. They catch on my dress and tug me back, like they want to keep me from reaching the mountains. Scattered here and there are patches of trees and large piles of boulders left behind by some ancient land movement—or a giant of old, depending on who you ask.

By late afternoon, the mountains take up most of the horizon ahead of us. Jagged peaks stand tall against the sky, their rocky faces reflecting the golden sun.

Hunter keeps trying to catch my eye, but I avoid him. I can’t help pulling away. Shame nips at my heels like a foxhound. It tells me I’m a terrible human being. That I’m too much like my father, withholding affection to manipulate people. But I know it’s more complicated than that. My mind is a jumbled mess of emotions that logically should be so simple.

Hunter loves me. I should love him too.

“What will you do once you reach Annwyn?” I ask Tristan. I reach down to pluck a fluffy stem of grass, then pick the seeds off one by one.

“Go home to his Dead Queen like a good boy, I expect,” Hunter mumbles, under his breath.

Tristan ignores the jibe. “I’ll return to Gwyllion Castle. To answer to my queen.” He doesn’t sound excited.

“And then?” I ask, disentangling my red cape from a patch of particularly aggressive grasses.

Tristan looks sidelong at me. “And then, I’ll see what else I can do to stop your father from taking more of my people’s territory.”

Hunter rubs the bridge of his nose, like listening to the Wolf talk of insurgence is enough to give him a headache.

I look up at the Spires and a rush of triumph surges through me, pushing away every ounce of exhaustion. We’re so close. Maybe two hours away. Three at most. There’s an almost physical weight lifting from my shoulders, like all the unanswered questions around Grandmother’s death have held me down, kept me from soaring.

We walk past some oddly shaped boulders. They’re square and piled on top of each other. But then we pass several more and it makes me pause. I lean closer. These are not normal boulders. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say they were cut with tools. A bracket sticks out of one, more rust than metal.

I run to catch up to Tristan and Hunter. “Are these …” my words disappear before I can say them. We’ve paused at the crest of a hill. Down below, an enormous, crumbled city spreads out before us.

“Wow,” Hunter whispers.