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.
“What is this?” I exclaimed.
The man gave me a puzzled look. “Your crown.”
“This isn’t the Alder Land’s crown. This is my father’s crown.”
“What else would you wear, your majesty?”
I tried handing it back to him, but he stepped away from it. “I don’t want it. I won’t wear it.”
“You have to. It’s the only way.”
He looked at me pleadingly, almost like he wanted me to move on to the next stage of this game as much as I did. I didn’t need his entreaty. I wanted to move on too. Badly. Badly enough to finally lift the crown up with shaking fingers and rest it on my head.
Instantly, I no longer stood in the chamber. I was on a high, cragged peak, overlooking vast sweeping plains. The sky was dark and heavy with clouds, and lightning danced among them. Below, on the plains, armies stretched as far as the eye could see. Armies of gentry and spirits and the myriad creatures living in the Otherworld. The crown felt heavy on my head yet did a poor job of holding down my hair as the wind whipped it around. A gown of indigo velvet embraced my body, and a black and silver fur cloak draped my shoulders. In my left hand, I held my wand, and in the crook of my other arm, I held a baby.
It was wrapped up in white blankets, its eyes closed. A fine haze of hair, its color indistinct, swept over its head. I had no idea who its father was-I didn’t even know if it was a boy or girl-but some instinctual part of me knew it was mine. Tentatively, I reached out with my fingers and touched that fine hair. It felt like down, like the softest, finest silk imaginable. The baby stirred slightly at the touch, snuggling against me, and something inside of me stirred as well.
I jumped as a hand encircled my waist, and a warm body moved next to mine. Dorian. A sword hung at his side, and a new crown sat on his head, more elaborate than his former circle of leaves. It was made of thick gold, heavy with jewels and dazzling to behold. But it wasn’t as big as mine.
“They’re waiting for your order,” he said.
I followed his gaze out to the fields of people and saw that they were all on their knees before me, heads touching the earth. Above them, thunder rumbled as the storm swirled restlessly.
“I don’t know what to do,” I told him.
“What you have to do.”
As though moving of its own accord, the hand holding my wand rose into the air. The armies rose with it, like I was a puppeteer pulling marionettes to life. A great roar sounded among them, swords banging on shields and magic flaring in salute. One downward motion, and I knew they would march. One motion from me, and I would unleash hell itself. The roar intensified. Dorian’s body shifted closer. The baby stirred again.
My hand felt heavy and started to fall…
I stood alone in the stone chamber. No man. No crown. The doorway had appeared, and I lunged for it.
The darkness engulfed me, and I swear the tunnel had grown more narrow than before. Still I moved onward. I could feel Kiyo growing closer and closer. I ran, needing to find him, needing to reach out to him, needing to And there he was.
He lay on a small dais in this new chamber, wearing his human shape. He was on his back, whole and perfect, his hands clasped on his chest like a sleeping fairytale princess.
I moved toward him, and a woman moved in front of me.
I didn’t know how I hadn’t seen her before. She had just appeared. I looked at her and squinted, trying to focus, but had trouble. Her appearance kept shifting. One instant she was golden and lovely, honey-blond hair pouring to her ankles. The next she was pale as death, black hair sweeping behind her like a funeral shroud, yet still beautiful in a frightening sort of way.
Persephone herself blocked my path, and I knew there was no way I could go through her.
“Let me have him. Please. I’ve passed all the tests, just like you wanted.”
What I wanted? It was the same voice I’d heard before, only now amusement tinged its edges. None of that mattered to me. They were not my tests. This world is what you bring to it. Most of the dead bring guilt or regret. You brought your fears.
I peered beyond her to Kiyo, my soul screaming out to his.
“What do you want? What do I need to do to take him?”
What makes you think I’ll give him to you? He’s mine. I received him fairly. The dead do not leave my realm.
I racked my brain, turning over every story or myth I’d ever heard.
“What about Orpheus? You let him take Eurydice.”
But in the end, she did not leave. He was not strong enough. She stayed.
“You don’t need him, especially since I’ve sent you so many other souls.”
Was it truly for me? Or your own ends?
“Does it matter?”
Perhaps not. But now I have two more, and I do not have to give them up.
“Then do it as a favor,” I begged.
A favor? Her amusement grew. Why would I do that?
“Because I’ve served you faithfully. And because we’re the same. I’m trapped in two worlds too, and I don’t think I can get out of that. I’m torn in two forever now.”
I touched the butterfly tattoo on my arm, half black and half white. Just like Persephone, who spent half her existence as a goddess of springtime and half as a ruler of death. Just like me, half human and half gentry. Half lover, half killer. In Swan Lake, Odile is the dark swan and Odette is the light swan, yet both are played by the same dancer.
She only stared, and I desperately tried to think of something. “You said this world is what we bring. I brought love too. Doesn’t that count for anything?”
She considered. That depends. Will you give up your love? Sacrifice it to me? Promise you will stay away from him forever, that you will forsake your love.
I stared at Kiyo’s inert form, thinking how it would be to never see him again. Something inside of me died at that thought, but I didn’t hesitate.
“All right. I agree.”
Persephone stared at me a moment, then Kiyo vanished.
It is done.
“You sent his soul back? He’ll live?”
If his body is healed soon, then yes, he’ll live.
She continued staring at me, and I realized I’d made no such guarantees for my own return. In fact, I could no longer feel that glittering connection to my own body.
You are trapped here, she affirmed.
“I know. It’s okay. It’s worth it.” And I meant it. Kiyo’s life meant more than my own.
Her blue-to-black-to-blue eyes held me. Then, as improbable as it seemed, she sighed.
Go back. Go back to your dual existence. I will see you again someday, and then you will stay.
Her fingers touched my forehead, and a searing pain ran through me. My form disappeared in a flurry of
