to look in on Valory. My nerves had become more agitated than a nest of hissing snakes, and seeing her held captive while Silimos tightened her clutches would soothe them.
I tied a cloth around the lower half of my face to subdue the smell before unlatching the box. Since it had been created for Valory, it would only open to the last place she had wished to go.
A forest overgrown with gray lichen and oozing fungi lay ahead of me. The sulfuric, moldy stocking scent had become so overwhelming that I would soon need to stop visiting altogether.
But there she was—trapped at the center of the pit, cocooned in flossy strands of ooze. Her flesh resembled mold at the bottom of a forgotten cup of tea. Her limbs were twisted, arthritic, pinned close to her body. Roots splayed out from her mouth and grew from her fingers like unpared nails. Even more so than before, I had to strain by the light of my elicrin stone to see where she ended and the growth began.
I had to think that she would surrender to Silimos soon in order to escape this prison of mind and body. From what I could tell, no one had found her, or at least no one had succeeded in freeing her if they had. The forest would become less welcoming each day. Her only way out? Agree to invite the Fallen inside her body and soul.
Comforted and exhausted, I stumbled into bed without even visiting the edifice to spin fantasies for my mad, pathetic husband.
Clouds shrouded the sky the next day. I rose late and donned mourning attire again. Devorian and I sat in an open-top carriage in the damp, warm air, following Perennia’s procession on a loop through Halithenica as rain began to fall.
My subjects emerged from their clay-and-brick homes and cramped, dim shops to see her. Some openly admired her beauty, but no one offered me anything beyond perfunctory condolences with downcast eyes. Many frantically reached for the iron trinkets in their pockets as if to ward me away.
This procession was a bad idea. If Devorian noted their apprehension, he might begin to weave a tale of his own, different from the one he’d barely given me a chance to tell.
“I wish the Realm Alliance could be here,” Devorian said. “Or just a few of Perennia’s friends from home. None of these people know her. They’re being kind for your sake, but tomorrow they will move on. We could have at least waited for Glisette—”
“No,” I said. “It was her spell that killed Perennia. She was so ashamed that she threw away her elicrin stone and fled.”
“That’s not what I heard at the port. The criers are saying she went mad, murdered her own sister, and kidnapped the princess.”
“Gossip,” I said, waving it off. “They don’t know her. They invent their own stories.”
“Where is Navara then? And King Myron?”
“The king has suffered digestive woes for weeks, and the princess is traumatized. She witnessed the altercation. It would never have happened if Glisette could resist being so suspicious of me. She got it into her head that I violated my probation. How? They put restrictions on my magic! She’s determined to think the worst of me, and it has broken our family.”
A sudden, cold blast of wind tore through the city streets. Its frigid fingers tugged off my headdress. The rain turned to hard sleet and the people fled to shelter. Trying to escape the sudden onslaught of cold, miserable weather, the coachman snapped the reins and our carriage jostled roughly over the cobblestones. But we could only go so fast following a carriage carrying a glass coffin and a lifeless body.
“Glissy,” Devorian breathed. He extended his palm and watched the sleet turn to snowflakes.
“What?” I asked, my heart dropping to my heels.
“It must be her…unless it snows here on the cusp of summer?”
“Not that I’m aware of,” I breathed, crossing my arms against the biting wind.
“I have to find her,” Devorian said. He craned his neck to see how far we were from the palace. His nose and ears were already bright pink from cold.
“Why? She ran away. She doesn’t want to be found.”
“Maybe not by you,” he said in a dark voice. Then he sighed, his breath fogging the air. “I’m sorry. We shouldn’t turn against each other right now. I made that mistake with the three of you after Mother and Father, and I don’t want to do it again. I’ll leave