What will you give us? they seemed to ask as one. What will you give us to let you pass?
“What do you want?”
You sent us here without thought. You ripped our essence out of one world and into another. Do you know what that is like? To have your essence torn asunder?
“Show me,” I whispered.
They did.
It started inside of me. Like a small spark, noticeable only by a faint twinge. Like getting shocked with static electricity. Then it grew, spreading out like a mass of wriggling worms, eating me from the inside out. Only it was more than physical. It was like…a spiritual cancer. I could feel everything about me disintegrating. First, all the superficial things. My love of pajamas and Def Leppard. This was followed by the removal of things that identified me, that made me unique: my physical abilities, my shamanic powers, even my newfound magic. Next, my emotional connections were stripped away, making me forget everyone I knew or loved. My parents, Kiyo, Dorian, Tim, Lara…they all vanished, their memories blown to the wind. Finally, my base essence disappeared. Me as a physical and mental being. Eugenie Gwen Markham. A woman. Half human, half shining one. It was all gone, and I was nothing. I wanted to scream but had no means of doing so.
And then, I was back.
I sat huddled in a ball, alone in the cavern. Unfolding myself, I saw that I was whole. My self-knowledge had returned. Still shaking, I looked up and saw that a doorway had appeared. It was a way out, a way toward Kiyo.
I walked into the next tunnel, again entering the darkness. When I emerged, I found myself in a cavern exactly like the other. Only this time, I wasn’t alone. A man stood on the far side, his back to me as he studied the wall. Sensing my presence, he turned around.
He had reddish hair, streaked with silver and just barely touching his shoulders. The features of his face were striking, a square jaw and sharp angles. Handsome in a harsh sort of way. He wore clothes like the gentry, most of him covered by a sweeping cloak as rich as anything Dorian might own. Rich purple velvet. Jewels worked into the edges. A crown sat on his head, made of a gleaming metal too bright to be silver. Platinum, I thought. It was a masterpiece of metalworking, all scalloping and flowing edges, like a circle of entwined clouds. The edges of it met in a small point at the top of his forehead, like a faux widow’s peak. Diamonds and amethysts set among the lacy curves glittered in the weird lighting.
But it was his eyes that really seized me. They would not hold one color. They shifted, like clouds on a windy day. Azure blue. Silvery gray. Rich violet.
“Hello, Father,” I said.
The eyes held at a steady, deep blue as he looked me over. “You are not what I expected.”
“Sorry.”
“No matter. You will do. In the end, you’re only a vessel anyway. Your magic will grow, and those around you will eventually see that what needs to be done is accomplished, once your child is born.”
I shook my head. “I’m not going to have your heir.”
“Then you will not pass. You will die here.”
I didn’t say anything. Anger hardened his already fierce features, and whatever attractiveness I’d noted before vanished. I remembered my mother’s reaction, her pure and unwavering hatred for him. His eyes flickered again, turning from blue to a gray so dark it almost looked black.
“You are a stupid, foolish girl who has no idea what you’re doing. The fate of the worlds hinges upon you, and you are too ignorant and too weak to do anything about it. No matter. You are not the only one who can carry on the dream.”
“What, you mean Jasmine?”
He nodded. “She lacks your power and war instincts, but again, she is only a vessel. More important, she is willing. Aeson made sure of that. He visited her years before finally taking her. She knows her duty. She will see it through.”
A cold, heavy lump settled in my stomach. I had gone out of my way to avoid pregnancy, but Jasmine would not. She would be seeking it, purposely trying to have Storm King’s heir. All my smug contraceptive practices would mean nothing.
Storm King read my thoughts. “Maybe if you were the one, you could control the situation. Maybe it wouldn’t be as bad if you were the heir’s mother. If your sister is the one, there will be no reprieve.”
“Don’t fuck with me just to get your way. It won’t work.”
The eyes darkened further. “Whatever you want, then. It makes no difference if you die here and stay with me.”
I stared at the far, blank wall, willing the stone to open. Beyond it I could feel Kiyo slipping away from me. My heart-if I had one in this form-beat more rapidly.
I closed my eyes. “What do you want me to do?”
Hands reached around from behind me, closing around my waist.
“Submit just once,” Aeson said in my ear. “Submit just once to me, and you can pass on.”
His hands pulled me against him, and I tried to squelch my rising nausea. Some reasonable part of me said it didn’t matter. None of this mattered. I wasn’t here in body. I couldn’t get pregnant. This wasn’t actually happening.
Yet…it seemed so real. And for all intents and purposes, it was. His hands upon me. His breath against my neck. It felt exactly as it would in physical form, as I knew it was intended to.
I opened my eyes and saw my father watching me. Beyond him, Kiyo moved farther away.
“All right,” I said, barely recognizing my own voice.
Aeson turned me around and kissed me, harsh and bruising, uncaring that my lips stayed inert and did not kiss him back. He pulled me down, putting my back against the sharp planes of the stone. The last thing I saw before all went to blackness was Storm King looking down at me, face cold and uncaring. I closed my eyes, trying to ignore the mental and physical hurt.
When I let myself see again, I sat on the ground, palms down against the hard surface. Just like before, I felt no more pain, and I could tell my clothes were whole once more. Another illusion…one my body had no memory of but which would stay etched in my mind for some time, I suspected. Standing up, I moved forward, on toward Kiyo.
Someone else was waiting for me in the next chamber, a man I’d never seen before. He was slim and small, dressed in scarlet velvet bordering on outlandish. He held a small cloth-wrapped bundle in his hands and paced around nervously. When he caught sight of me, his face brightened with relief.
“There you are, your majesty!” he exclaimed. “I’ve been waiting.”
“Waiting for what?”
He proffered the bundle before me. “To give you your crown. You have to put it on.”
I eyed the bundle nervously and then looked at the smooth, blank wall between Kiyo and me. “Is that what I need to do to get through? Put on the crown?”
He nodded, shifting from foot to foot. “Hurry. We’re running out of time.”
I knew what the crown was for. I knew what Dorian had done outside of Aeson’s fortress. Somehow, some way, I had gained the Alder Land. I had become its queen. I sure as hell didn’t want it, though. If I made it away from here alive, I’d definitely rectify the problem. But if wearing the crown here was what it took to pacify this next sadistic torment, then I would do it. It was a whole lot easier than everything else I’d been through.
“Fine. Give it to me.”
He handed me the bundle. I unwrapped and nearly dropped it when I saw what lay inside.
Aeson had worn a gold circlet. Dorian’s crown, which he rarely wore, was similarly simple. It resembled a ring of leaves, beaten out in different metals: silver, gold, and copper. Presumably Maiwenn and the rest of the Otherworldly monarchs wore similar items.
But this…this was not a simple circlet. It was heavy and platinum, an intricate swirl of metal set with diamonds and amethysts. Storm King’s crown. Only it was smaller. A bit more delicate. Designed for a woman.