Page 83 of The Dark Prince
“I’m sorry,” I blubbered, over and over. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. It wasn’t enough—”
“It isn’t over,” said a deep, accented voice next to me. I looked up into the face of Arne’s wife, her face tight with worry as she hunched over. She carried her husband over her back like he was a child who’d simply gotten overtired and fallen asleep.
I wiped my nose with my sleeve. “What do you mean? There’s nothing left—”
“I don’t like you,” she whispered vehemently. Her gaze shot around to the crowd. “I don’t like any of you. You run my husband ragged of his magick, and he lets you because of his guilt and his duty. You will stop this in the future or we will leave.”
Everyone blinked at her, no one sure what to say. The woman turned back to me. “And you.I still don’t like you. My husband has used much magick to heal your delicate, soft hands. And yet …” The irritation faded from her face.
She sighed. “And yet, you did what we could not.”
I went silent as Arne’s wife slowly went down to one knee with the weight of her husband on her back, in complete control the entire time. Was she using magick to bear his weight, or was she simply that strong?
It didn’t matter.
She bent her knee to me.
I turned around to ask Maddeus what it meant, only to find that he had done the same, even with Aella in his arms.
Toke kneeled next.
Then Leif.
With a large grin on his face, Rolf joined in, his grubby hat grasped tightly in his fingers.
One by one, every villager paid homage to Tyr’s lifeless body. To me.
“All that is left is your love.” Arne’s wife chuckled darkly. “The earth witch was correct: the souls of an entire kingdom weren’t worth the price of one person’s love—or lack thereof. But an entire kingdom’s love?” She raised an eyebrow at me, smiling. “Come,” she commanded everyone, a queen in her own right.“Bring the Lord and Lady Black.”
I walked forward with Arne’s wife, outside into the night air. All the while, she refused any help to carry Arne from everyone who approached her. Leif and Toke hefted Tyr between them, and once we were outside, gently laid Tyr down in the grass. I crouched next to him.
Arne’s wife set him down on the grass, and lifted her hands up to the sky in an offering, a beatific smile on her face.
“What—” Maddeus started, only to shut up as the sky filled with falling stars.
I’d heard of meteor showers before, but I’d never seen one in person. I had always thought of them as mythical, far-away things—not literal stardust and brilliance coating us like a fine layer of snow.
“We’ve paid the balance,” she intoned seriously.
Tyr’s body moved under me, and for one glorious moment I thought he was alive—but no, this strange magick had covered him in a fine layer of starlight, and now his body was lifting into the air.
“Milady! Get back!” Maddeus kept his grip on Aella, whose eyes were fluttering open.
There were so many falling stars I could barely see. The brightness forced me to shut my eyes, and I cracked them to see through narrow slits. I reached out, but didn’t feel Tyr’s body anymore.
Arne's wife pulled me back. “Just wait,” she soothed. “Watch.”
How? It was too bright! I couldn’t see anything. As if she could hear my thoughts, she chuckled behind me. “Magick is rarely seen. Look another way.”
I closed my eyes and felt.
The heavy, suffocating presence that I’d grown used to upon arriving here was absent. It used to weigh down on his people and put a darkness in their eyes I’d noticed right away. In its place was something else—something warm and soothing. It wasn’t heavy, but it filled my soul like warm soup filled an empty, cold stomach.
Arne’s wife helped me stand. “My name is Ianira. I am a blood witch of the southern isles. This curse used the devotion of these people against them. It made him protective of us but kept him from loving others. Now it will save him.”
Everyone fell to their knees as the horizon exploded with light. I fell on all fours and buried my head in my arms.
Darkness fell again as the light faded. Townspeople all around us were still on their knees, muttering and some crying out in surprise and awe at the remnants of stardust around us.
