POPPY
“Loch.” I grabbed his face between my hands and showered him with kisses as he slowly sat up.
He was awake. He was okay. Thank the Seven Spirits.
Then his words hit me. They struck me straight in the chest and split me wide open.
Dying. That was what he said, but it couldn’t be true.
“Well, you’re awake,” my gran said to Loch, gesturing with her knotted hand. “Better get explaining.”
“I’m guessing that’s your gran,” Loch said weakly, tipping his head toward her.
I didn’t speak, waiting for him to tell me what in the spirits below was going on.
He grabbed the waterskin and took another swig, then set it down. “The blue lines don’t just represent my shadow being taken,” he admitted. “They represent my impending doom. My eventual death. When your shadow is taken, you’re bound to the place where it was taken from. Mine was taken in Sorrengard, so that’s where my body is bound. If you leave the place you’re bound to, your life slowly begins to drain away.” He tapped his chest. “The lines tell you how much time you haveleft. Kind of. I don’t know in terms of days or hours, but the closer the lines get to your heart, the closer you are to death.”
“What fixes it?” I asked with a shaky voice.
“Going back to where you’re bound or reuniting with your shadow.”
“Or killing the person who took your shadow,” Gran said.
I slowly reached out and peeled open the flap of his shirt, already knowing what I was going to see. I’d gazed upon that chest last night, memorized every contour and mark. The lines hovered right above his heart. I gasped. “You idiot,” I said. “You selfless, stupid, dumb, idiot.”
“That was a lot of insults in one sentence.” Loch gave me a tentative smile that I returned with a glare.
“I meant every one. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”
“I wanted to protect you.” He scratched the back of his head.
I stood. “We have to leave for the shadow court immediately. We’ll go. Now.”
“Poppy.” He tugged me back down. “We have to talk to your gran. You know that.” He tipped his head in Gran’s direction. “Your Majesty.”
She waved away his greeting. “Oh, enough of that. I haven’t been a queen in sixty years.”
A confirmation if there ever was one. Loch was right, as much as I didn’t want him to be. We’d hear my gran out, and then we’d leave. “How could you have kept that from me?” I asked her. “Is Silla Taramoud even your real name?”
“Yes,” she said quietly. “My family name before I married my husband, the king.”
Another half truth, but for some reason, it was a relief to know that her name wasn’t a complete lie. Not like mine had been.
“Priscilla is my full name. But I went by Silla for short.”
Loch reached for my hand and took it in his, a reminder that he was here to face this with me. I was still mad at him, but I was also grateful for him. “How could you have taken me from my parents?” I hesitated. “The king and queen of the sky court?”
Her eyes flashed. “Now how did you find out about that?”
I groaned and scrubbed a hand down my face. “You stole me from two loving parents.”
“I didn’t steal you!” Gran’s face twisted in anger. “I offered your mother a crown in exchange for her firstborn child, and she took the deal.”
Loch’s brows drew together. “I don’t understand how you set the price. Magic always has a price, but it’s unpredictable.”
Gran tsked. “So little is known about the shadow court and our magic. So much willfully forgotten because everyone just hoped we’d disappear forever after the Shadow War. The price can be set if you’re the one who took the shadow that produced that dark magic.”
“So you ripped away someone’s shadow, and that dark magic made a magical crown with the power to make someone a king or queen?” I asked.
