“Of course it is,” I croak out. “If I hadn’t left—”
“Then Kai would have been the hunt,” Nero reminds me, and though he doesn’t say the words, I can feel them. Kai would not have survived the Dead Lands, not because she was weak, but because she is—wassofter. She would have happily taken a monster’s hand and let them pleasure her into a stupor before she succumbed to death. She would have welcomed it, just like she welcomed her fate at the end.
“I should have gotten here faster.”
Razcorr steps forward, his arms outstretched. Without hesitation, Bracken passes me into his arms. “I was there when Kulmak was killed,” he says. “I stood a little too far away, allowed too much space between us. Kulmak was a mighty king, a fierce warrior, but even he was cut down, Cora.” His eyes meet mine, and I get lost in the darkness of the night sky there. “Even the fiercest warriors die. Kai suffered, but it was not your fault, just as it was not my fault that I was two seconds too slow to save my best friend. You tried to reach her, but she was unreachable.”
“I’ll never forgive myself.”
“I understand,” he whispers. “We relive these moments in our nightmares, over and over again, wishing one detail would change, wishing we had been a split second quicker.” Razcorr’s wings come around us, cocooning me in his warmth. “And when those nightmares plague you, we will all be here to remind you of who you are, of the power in your veins. Kai chose to die for you, just as you tried to die for her. Now, you must live for her.”
I choke on the words in my throat, unable to get anything out, so I wrap my arms around the gargoyle and let him hold me while I cry. I don’t know when this agony will ease, or if it will ever ease, but despite this struggle, I know we still have a job to do.
I have a duty. I must live.
Still, I’m in a daze as we walk through the castle and I let my magic lead me through gilded excess. I hate this place. I hate what it represents, and as more and more jewels and wealth appear, I grow physically sick with how much the king has kept from the Shadow Lands. The people could have survived, could have gone without hunger, but instead, he allowed them to starve, beg, and die.
No more.
My magic pulls us to the deepest part of the castle, into a chapel that I’ve never seen before. The Shadow Lands has no religion except for the power of food, but here, the king clearly still worshiped something. The sun shines through the stained glass windows, highlighting a minotaur being slayed by the king. As I stare at the image depicting the downfall of our realms, anger fills me until my magic expands and whips out.
The glass shatters, the image ground to dust as it rains down on us. The sun streams in brighter now, falling on a simple stone sarcophagus in the middle of the room. There are no inscriptions on the stone coffin, nothing signifying it’s what we need, but I know without a doubt it’s what we’ve searched for.
Emelyn.
“There,” I croak out, pointing to the coffin. “She’s in there.”
Razcorr is the one who steps forward and grips the edge of the coffin. He shoves it off with a flex of his muscles and stares down at what’s inside. He knew her, was her friend, and when I see the grief on his face, I step up beside him and take his hand.
There, nestled in silk, is Emelyn’s perfectly preserved body. Where I expected bones, there is flesh sparkling with magic, keeping her whole. The magic inside her made sure she can be returned to her love. The thought makes tears spring to my eyes. She’s waited all this time, hoping to be reunited, and now it’s going to happen.
I’m going to make sure it happens.
“We’re going to return her to her rightful place,” I tell Razcorr, and he nods his head, lost for words. I glance back at Grim, imagining him wearing a crown, and smile gently. “We’re going to reunite the lands.” Without hesitation, Grim, the rightful monster king, takes my hand and bows his head to me.
A human.
* * *
There’s no longerany use in hiding. The king is dead, and the guards have scattered in chaos, not wanting to die for a deceased king who treated them like pawns. The halflings run through the streets, causing the gilded ladies to scream, but not as much as they scream when we leave the castle and start walking along the sparkling streets—a minotaur, a naga, a dark fey, a gargoyle, a kraken, an orc, and a tear-stained human.
We make a strange sight as we walk as a group, with Emelyn’s body held on a platform between us. We escort her through the Gilded Lands, surrounded by jeweled women and pompous men who don’t know hunger or poverty or powerlessness, but when we reach the Shadow Lands, the tone changes.
They come from their houses with fear on their faces and hope in their eyes. They recognize me as I walk with my chin tilted high, my hair flowing around my shoulders in waves.
“Cora,” someone whispers, but I don’t turn. More and more people repeat my name, not because they are uncertain, but because they are reassuring themselves I am real.
“The king is dead,” I declare as we pass through the center of town, the shadows stretching longer here. “You are free.”
No one moves, their eyes on me. “And the monsters?” someone asks.
“They are as much of a part of this land as you are,” I say, looking up at Grim, where he stands beside me. Sparks dance around my body, a show of power that makes them gasp. “There will no longer only be shadows and death. The Gilded Lands is fracturing, and it’s time for the wall to fall.”
Sounds of panic and excitement fill the air, but my eyes aren’t on the townspeople who have known me my whole life—some of them having a hand in my punishments and pain. No, my eyes are fixated on a woman who pushes through the crowd with bruises on her cheekbone. She has a soft sparkle in her eyes I’ve rarely seen. I stop, and my monsters stop with me, Emelyn’s sparkling body suspended between us.
Tension fills the air as I look at the woman who birthed me, who became a shell. I wonder if I should tell her that her oldest daughter became just like her. I wonder if I should speak on her failures now that no power can hold me.
Pride sparkles in her eyes, but I see pain when she looks among our group and doesn’t find Kai. She knows. I don’t have to tell her. A mother always knows.
