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“No,” I whispered, “no, please! Please, I don’t want to die!”

“You won’t die, Ofelia,” said the king, strolling out of the shadows and closer to the rotunda. “You’ll be reunited with your mother, just like you wanted.”

How could he make it seem like this was somegifthe was giving me?

I was on the final step of the rotunda now, only a few paces away from the strange door. Vines undulated across its surface like snakes, and black roses bloomed among them.

“Please,” I begged, “please, I want to stay above—I want the sunshine. I want to live in your beautiful kingdom. I—I won’t tell anyone. I’ll leave the palace if you wish—”

“King of Shadows,” said King Léo, addressing the door with a cold, firm voice, one ruler to another. “My payment to you. My own flesh and blood. My own child. Take my beloved Ofelia to your kingdom.”

King Léo bent close to me, pressing a kiss to my forehead, his hand against the back of my head, holding me in place just as the soldiers did. His skin was cold and clammy, as loving as a kiss from a marble statue. From so close, I could see the gold chain of Mother’s locket around his neck.

He must have stolen it from her, her last night in this world.

With a quick jerk of my hands, I grabbed the locket and yanked it as hard as I could. It broke, and I balled up the chainand clasped the locket tight in my hands.

The king drew back, frowning. “Spoiled thing,” he muttered. His gaze locked with mine. He grasped the door handle behind me.

“I don’t understand,” I asked, panic constricting my voice. “Why would you call me your daughter? Why would you be so kind to me if all along, you were just going to—to—”

His hand lightly caressed the side of my face. “Youaremy daughter, Ofelia. And I love you dearly. Otherwise, none of this would make a difference.”

The door opened with a softclick.

Wind roared; there was the rustling of leaves, a horrid howling sound, and then the men around me began to scream—all except for the king.

The knights released my arm, shrieking and falling to the pavilion floor. A massive Shadow sat astride one, ripping the helm from his face and wrapping its long claws around the boy’s throat. Shadow after Shadow poured from the doorway, swarming and draining the breath from the knights around us.

Ungloved fingers grasped my arm. I took one final, horrified glimpse at the king.

“I love you,” he said.

And then he shoved me through the open doorway.

22

Lope

Misery, why do you follow behind me,

A Shadow,

A carrion bird?

Wait, wait still.

Your turn will come.

I am not yet done.

With the last pearl earring I had, I purchased a night and a meal in an inn, and sunshine spilling across my face woke me—something that was once a rarity for me. I used to spend my time sleeping through the best hours of the day. Now, I was able to see all the beauty of daytime. To feel warmth upon my skin.

Everything, even sunshine, made me think of her. My heart was heavy as a stone within my ribs.

I sat up in the bed, weary but grateful for its lumpymattress and itchy blanket. This was the inn’s finest room, and I luxuriated in it: its dingy walls, its shutters that did not close all the way, the armoire with a crack down one of its doors. From below gently wafted the smells of eggs and bacon and warm bread. As quick as I could, I plaited my hair, dressed, leapt into a pair of boots, and barreled downstairs.

The common room was cheerful and sunny, with men and women chatting at round tables and playing cards. A true warmth, unlike Le Château’s constructed merriment. I settled onto a barstool, my fingers drumming against the swirling grain of the wooden bar. As I was trained to do, I listened.