A Crown of Cursed Hearts (Kingdom of Blighted Thorns #3)

45. Tempest

45

TEMPEST

S wept off the top of the cliff, I was dragged into the deep, churning mass of indigo water. I flailed, kicking my legs and flailing my arms, but I couldn’t tell up from down. For a moment, panic grabbed onto my bones and shook me.

Then I centered myself and stopped moving. I opened my eyes and took in the world around me.

I swore I was drowning and then I wasn’t. I wasn’t necessarily breathing beneath the water so much as not breathing at all. My lungs felt normal, and my heart rate slowed from the furious thunder that had grabbed hold of me when I was swept out to sea to something more normal.

An eerie calm enveloped me, and I stared around, fascinated by this new and stunning landscape. Sunlight filtered through the surface above in dappled patterns, illuminating a hidden world of vivid blues and greens. Kelp swayed gently with the current in this underwater forest, and small fish darted between the spears, glistening silver and gold and every other metallic color imaginable. Farther below, shadows hinted at deeper mysteries I ached to explore. The water was alive with strange creatures clinging to rocks and the edge of the cliff or scuttling across strands of floating vegetation.

Something dark and ominous approached from the open sea, its body undulating through the water. I flapped my arms and looked for a place to hide, but the kelp was too narrow and there were no boulders big enough in sight.

Dark and, I sensed, ancient, it glided toward me with delicate grace, its body as long as a wing in Lydel Manor.

Brown. It was as brown as a rich slab of fessalile wood, and its body held nicks and scars as if it had survived a terrible battle. I recognized its smoothed frame, though I couldn’t remember where I’d seen it. Its enormous wings stretched out away from its body, and I spied a long tail swirling through the water behind it.

When it stretched its mouth wide, its jagged teeth glinted in the murky sunlight, forearm-length things that could rip prey apart.

A water dragon? I’d heard they existed, but living far from the sea, I’d never seen one. They were a part of myths and legends, though I’d read once they could do magic, like the fae.

Its mouth stretched wider; a gaping maw larger than a villager’s house.

I should flee, but I remained in place other than the soft kicks of my legs and the gentle sway of my arms.

I sensed it was coming for me, and I would not be afraid .

Still, my pulse floundered in my throat, and fear stabbed my chest with thick shards of ice. Its sheer size overwhelmed me as each of its slow movements sent water sweeping away in all directions. My world narrowed as its immense form closed in, its eyes gleaming bronze and with unknowable intent.

I would not be afraid. I chanted the words in my mind and told my heart to slow the fuck down.

The creature came closer, and I swore its mouth creaked as it opened even farther.

It engulfed me, swallowing me into darkness.

For a moment, I struck out, hitting the surprisingly squishy walls enclosing me, urging me down, down into the belly of this amazing creature.

Was this it? Would I die here and never see Vexxion again?

Vexxion! I cried out to him in my mind, and it was a sad, sorrowful thing, a sound of mourning and an acceptance of loss.

I scrambled to grab onto my power, but I couldn’t reach it, as if a wall had been erected between me and my well. I clawed at the barrier in my mind, but my fists and nails did nothing to the surface.

Stop it, something deep inside me said, and I stilled, panting in the damp, oppressive darkness.

The creature moved around me, swaying and shivering, taking me down into the depths of the sea. I braced my feet to keep from falling from the tilt, and pressed my palms into the wet, squishy walls around me. Was I stuck in the beast’s throat, or had it shoved me into its belly? It didn’t matter. I was going to see this through. My father had. His mother or father as well. And many more Lydels who came before me had lifted their chins and allowed this to happen.

“It’s time to swallow my court’s core,” I whispered. “Not be swallowed. Can you help me?”

A low hum rang out, the entire creature’s body quivering along with it.

It bottomed out somewhere, and its mouth opened, stretching wide enough that light filtered down to where I stood within the beast’s throat.

Outside this magnificent being, I spied an island with a building crafted from silver. The structure wasn’t large; maybe the size of a home in one of the villages near the fortress containing a living area, a few bedrooms, and an open cooking and dining area. Enough footprint to keep a small family happy.

This building’s roof gleamed gold in the muted sealight.

A trill of music floated to me, and it tugged me forward, up the creature’s neck, through its mouth, and out onto a smooth, pink sandy shore. I took in a half-circle arching above me that held the water back and allowed this tiny world to flourish. Spiky green trees clustered around the solitary building standing in the center of the island about the size of the open courtyard of the fortress where I grew up.

Other than the music lilting through the air, the place pulsed with pure silence, empty of the call of a bird or the shriek of a dragon, let alone the chitter of a small creature.

An oozing sound sent me spinning, and the creature who’d beached itself here slipped back into the water. It floated there. Waiting .

My shocked gasp rang out because standing above it allowed me to see who and what it was.

The carved dragon Vexxion made for me had come to life.

It gurgled, and bubbles rose to the surface above its head, and while the bubbles meant nothing, I sensed it was telling me to go seek the core, not to stand on the shore and gape at its magnificence.

I turned and strode forward, soft sand dragging down each of my steps. For every one, I slid back halfway, and by the time I’d reached the top of the bank and a thick span of grass, my left thigh throbbed, and my breathing raged. I ignored both and started down the narrow, worn path cut through thick grass, taking me toward the silver building.

Time meant nothing here. I sensed this. When this was over, I might emerge to find days had passed or only the blink of an eye.

I reached the building and studied it for a long while. Without guidance, I could only guess what I needed to do next. Go inside? I suspected all of this was a test, and if I didn’t respond as I should, the arch of glass overhead would disappear, and the ocean would plunge down to engulf me. How many of my ancestors had failed this test?

The shadow of fear dwells in darkness, but a whisper of courage will bring the light.

I wasn’t sure why that thought occurred to me now, but I spoke it out loud in a low voice that swirled around me. With each repetition, I climbed one step, my gaze focused on the simple wooden door mounted on the front of the building.

I crossed the open stone platform and stood in front of the door, finding no latch to open it. No place to insert a key. Yet I knew I had to go inside.

“The shadow of fear dwells in darkness, but a whisper of courage will bring the light.” I lifted my voice and shouted, “I am not afraid.”

The door creaked open.