Page 157 of Autumn Queens & Shadows

“Why not?”

Something was wrong. Very wrong. Why was he looking at me like that?

Backing away from him, I walked towards the end of the corridor, towards where Skadi must have gone. The path led straight to the roof, and I had to stop a few times to catch my breath before powering through the next flight of stairs that took me to the tallest height I’d ever stood on. I’d forgotten how this fear felt the past ten years Neo had suppressed it.

Another one of my fears returned full force when I saw her standing right at the damn edge of the terrace, facing me.

“Skadi,” I called, walking to her.

But for every step I took forward, she took one back. I stopped when she stood a foot or two from the edge of the terrace. “Skadi, please—”

I screamed when she pushed and threw herself off the ledge. My feet were heavy, but I ran to the edge with all I had. Tears and fear were spinning and blurring the surroundings. My hands were shaking when I held on to the edge, preparing myself to look at her below. “Skadi!”

But she was not there.

Had…had she escaped it?

“Where did she go?” I asked, wiping my tears away and turning to Mal. “Did you…did you catch her?”

He kneeled beside me and reached a hand out for me to take. “You trust me, right?” he asked. “At least for now?”

Frowning, I nodded and took his hand.

He faded us in the winter gardens. At the old apple tree in front of king Edric’s old quarters. It felt familiar yet a creeping sensation filled my chest. Everything felt numb, tears were streaming down my face, and I didn’t know why. This place was so familiar yet so unknown. It was like my mind had tried to erase it and failed, because something else remembered. Something embedded in my chest, and that had damned me with the same knowledge I’d tried to forget time and time again.

My heart.

My feet froze when we reached closer to the scaling trunk of the ancient apple tree.

Mal went and kneeled before the grey headstone sitting under its shade, pulling away at the overgrown weeds and the old flowers.

Skadi Krigborn, it read. Queen. General. Mother.

Chapter thirty-six

The Past

Thora

It had been a tough past couple of weeks for Isjord since Iskyla started aiming her attention on someone else beside me since uncle Sigurd had passed away a couple years ago.

Her father’s aunt had become her target.

Again—as I had found out.

Some time ago, Skadi had finally confessed over some heavy booze drinking that the one who’d told the Isline elders about her seeking the help of a Crafter to conceive had been none other than a teenage Iskyla, hell bound onto making her father king. Then, she’d also told me that Iskyla had been the one who’d guided my father’s informants to her when she’d been overthrown and banished to live in a secluded home outside of the main villages in the Islines. Sigurd had often broken those rules and had visited her, only to find her home empty one random winter day.

I tapped Skadi’s back as she retched blood and bile over a rose bush. It had started again—the sickness that she caught after what my father and Melanthe had done to her. It came and it went. Despite the fact that she no longer had the seedling or its dark magic, the dark craft had left marks behind. “Visha will find something else to take away the sickness left, I promise.”

“It has been years, Rora. I’m not sure how long my body will hold.” She stood and turned her half-withered gaze to me, so drowned, so defeated. “I’m old. I’m tired. I’m not sure it wants to hold anymore.”

“It will hold,” I said, giving her a smile. “It has to.”

“Child—”

“You’re not going to leave me, Skadi. It is an order from your queen.” I shook my head, that selfish feeling growing heavier. “Suffer a while longer, please. Just a little longer. Visha will find something. I have the best healers and the whole of Eldmoor along with Nia looking for it. Please.”

Despite the vanquish in her eyes, she nodded. “As you wish, my child.”