Two Twisted Crowns

And though it had taken slow, painful time, I knew who I was without him. I was more than the girl, the King, and the monster of Blunder’s dark, twisted tale.

I was its author.

Here we are, my darling girl, he whispered to me. The end of all things. The last page of our story.

it rested the ancient adornments of Aemmory Percyval Taxus and Brutus Rowan. Gilded, bloodstained. Two twisted crowns.

“The only thing that can save him now is magic.”

Morette and Fenir exchanged a glance. “Ravyn can’t use most Providence Cards.”

“I’m very aware of that.”

“What magic, then?”

The Nightmare slammed his hands on the table, making Ravyn wince. “It’s hardly my fault, Elspeth,” he muttered under his breath, “that I am constantly surrounded by idiots.” He turned to Morette and Fenir. “Magic moves in families. You have two other children with the infection, do you not?”

You may have an easy enough time killing my brother—but you’ll find this Rowan difficult to dispatch, Shepherd King.”

The Nightmare laughed, wicked and infinite. “Fool. I’m not going to kill your brother.” He opened his arms, a beckoning—and a promise. “I’m going to crown him.”

He looked over his shoulder, waiting once more. “Neither Rowan nor Yew, but somewhere between. A pale tree in winter, neither red, gold, nor green. Black hides the bloodstain, but washes the realm. First of his name—King of the Elms.”

Yes, Elspeth?

Don’t die.

I won’t.

Because if you do, and we never get the time we’re owed, I’ll hate you, Ravyn Yew. I’ll love you and hate you forever.

Because that Captain of the Destriers is not a man, only a mask. A show of Rowan might. And there will always be stronger things in this world than Rowan might.

“How poetic. I couldn’t have asked for a better Solstice.” He put his mouth to Ravyn’s ear. “Now, stupid bird, will you listen to my plan?”

I will take the throne of Blunder back. But not for you.” He straightened his spine, fixing Ravyn in his unflinching gaze. “For Elm.”

Taxus. My name is Taxus.”