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We had no time. I jerked the king to his feet, my blade still at his throat. “Get ready,” I told her.

He continued to scream. Footsteps began to resound like drums in the corridor. I felt a pang of regret for what we were about to do, releasing more beasts into this world.

Eglantine threw open the door to darkness. Shadows came flooding out, slipping past the three of us, through the library, out into the palace. More screams came from the corridor, men inagony.

Wading through currents of Shadows, I pushed King Léo through the door, and in a blink, Eglantine enfolded herself behind me in the cold and the dark of the Underworld.

With one hand, I closed the door behind us.

28

Ofelia

It was happening again.

She was dying again.

I raced down the spiral steps, out into the gray garden beyond. There were hedges like in the palace gardens, but all through these grounds were high-pitched whistles, the roaring of beasts, low, shuddering sounds—animals but not quite.

Sprinting down the straight path, I saw the Shadow King standing there at the end, taking notes on his scroll. Behind iron fences, Shadows of all sizes fluttered and slithered and crawled within their pens. One took on the appearance of a horse with its jaws opened, far too wide, and its eyes pure white and utterly frightening.

The god sensed my presence, turning his bright eyes upon me. “Ofelia?”

I clung to the black, silky fabric of his sleeves. “He’s killing her,” I rasped. “King Léo, he’s killing Lope!”

“I’m sorry, child.” His words were soft and true but utterly useless to me.

I glared up at him, my hands tightening into fists. “We can’t let this happen! You’re agod, can’t you help me?!”

“I do not have that sort of power, Ofelia.”

All my strength was sapped away, and I fell to the stones of the path, clutching his robes and sobbing. “Please, please save her!” I begged. “I’ll give you anything, my blood, my heart, my life, any of it; it’s yours, just spare her!”

I could see her face so clearly in my mind: her blue lips, her closing eyes. That awful gurgling sound as she lost her breath again.

She died for me. Just as she always said she would. She came to the Underworld for me. And then she gave her life, fighting for mine.

I wept so profusely that I could barely breathe. When I tried to imagine a world where Lope, beautiful, valiant, marvelous Lope, was gone, every inch of my body grew ice-cold with grief... and with rage.

A hoarse scream tore its way out of my throat. Cursed be the gods who turned their faces from us, cursed be the king who’d taken her from me, and cursed be the Shadow King who treated us like prizes he’d won in a game.

But his arms wrapped around me.

His limbs were crooked and bony. He held me too gently, like he was afraid he’d break me.

I sobbed into his robes, and his hand gently passed over and over against my hair.

“When you saw her,” said the Shadow King, “when you kissed her—I had not seen a human smile, not like that before. When you were together, there was such brightness in your eyes. I have heard of that feeling. Joy, it’s called?”

I nodded, my throat burning from my cries and from every ragged breath that scraped against my lungs.

“And that was love, when you stood side by side, when you kept reaching for her hand.” The monster brushed his fingers through my hair again. “We gods do not know how to love. It is a human invention, you know. And it was so beautiful to...”

His voice trailed off. Somewhere to my right was a soft, slithering sound. When I lifted my head, I saw a little Shadow, its head cocked at me.

“We have guests,” said the Shadow King. “King Léo, a woman, and—and a girl.”

Lope. Please.I sat up straight, still clinging to his robes. “Take me to them.”