Page 29 of Beneath Swan Lake (Deadly Endings #2)
My gaze locks on the mountains in the distance, mocking me with their snowy peaks. That’s where I would rather be, basking in the frozen wasteland and enjoying the icy terrain of my home.
The wind snaps against my face, too hot and humid to be anything like the Frostlands. It’s a cruel reminder that I still have one more task to complete before returning home to my greatest sin. I’m going to right someone else’s wrong, and hopefully it doesn’t end up killing me.
“Legs said you would be back soon.”
Pushing back my hood, Margo’s unimpressed carmel eyes meet my gaze. Legs’ lover never quite took a liking to me, and the annoyed look she gives me as I cross into the garden tells me how little my presence is appreciated.
Good thing she isn’t the one I need to talk to.
Margo rolls her eyes and leads me into the garden without a word, her wings folded at her back. Doesn’t look like she’s been off doing work for the Mad Queen, not today anyway. As much as I hate it, the butterflies still do work for the royal psycho. I haven’t heard that many reports lately of the butterflies picking up new intel to report back to the Queen, so who knows how up to date Queenie really is. I’m hoping she’s still mad about the looking glass and isn’t getting anything done.
We’re walking towards the great tree where Legs lives when Margo stiffens, peering back over her shoulder. I follow her gaze, barely catching what she sees beyond the trees.
Smoke.
We move swiftly back to the edge of the garden, the Barrens to one side and in the distance we can see Sherwood. Beyond that rises the smoke, covering the sky as far as the eye can see.
I shake my head, trying to figure out how far away the smoke is. “I can’t tell where it originates from.”
“Neither can I,” Margo grumbles, rubbing her hands together. “This is a tragedy.”
“Probably one committed by your Queen.”
She glares at me, all the familiarity I have with Margo returning. I visit Legs every few weeks, more so than the other Reapers since my position in the Frostlands keeps me closest to the gardens. “The Queen is busy stewing in her castle last I heard. She hasn’t gone anywhere since Tressa.”
Pursing my lips, I debate mentioning what happened beneath Swan Lake. I’m going to end up sharing some of it with Legs no matter what if I’m bringing her the spinning needle. We didn’t turn back to check the second lake once things fell apart. So it’s by pure assumption that the Queen didn’t cross.
If she passed into Swan Lake, her power would be hard to mask. She’s madness incarnate. Surely she wouldn’t be able to contain that insanity while she’s contained to a small space like Swan Lake Kingdom. I haven’t heard of any tragedies in the area since splitting from Raymundo and the Swan Princess, so I think it’s safe to assume the royal psycho didn’t succeed in entering Swan Lake through the looking glass.
I step out of the trees, gripping my staff. The purple wood glows a faint white, my magic trying to break free. “If there’s a fire I should go-”
“What, back into Sherwood?” Margo asks, and I don’t turn back to face her. “If you go, Raymundo will likely be there. Probably Zarev too. Three Reapers in one place? You’ll draw all the spirits around Mystica to one place, like Midas did before the wall around Tressa fell.”
For a moment I’m intrigued, turning back to glance at Margo. I haven’t really caught up with everything going on with my friends. All I know is Tressa no longer exists, and the rich bastards in the north are hiring rogues to go and pillage what’s left from the Kingdom. That’s going to cause a new wave of traffic through Sherwood to reach the southern edges of Mystica, and I have no idea what that will do to the spaces between the Frostlands and Tressa.
Rubbing at my chest, I ignore the sting of pain. If I sweet talk Legs enough, she’ll give me something to soothe the wounds from beneath the lake. And if I’m careful she won’t ask too many questions about what happened over the past few months. My visits were interrupted when I realized my target.
The Blue Wizard. Now that he’s dead I can right a wrong. I didn’t intend on getting captured, I just needed the needle to complete my task. If I had any idea that Dima would be such a royal pain I would have just frozen him solid before I went into the caves.
“It’s not right to leave my brothers to take care of a fire. I’m an ice wizard-”
“You’re also a Reaper,” Margo snaps, turning on her heel. “You have other duties now.”
She’s right, and it’s part of my life that I hate. My grip on the staff tightens, and I almost fight against her words. But even if I rush, there’s no way to know if I’d arrive in time to help.
“Come on Ban,” she calls. “Legs is expecting you.”
I shake my head. I was due back to the Red Woods a month ago. This visit is long overdue yet ,somehow, Legs is expecting me. Even when I don’t let her know that I’m near the gardens, she knows. She has a strange sixth sense that I’ve never quite wrapped my head around.
Looking back, I tell myself it’s all going to be okay. I’ll go see the ice queen I once betrayed, and they will manage the chaos in Sherwood. We’ll all eventually meet up someday -
My thoughts are interrupted by a small shock running under my feet. Jumping in surprise, I’m shocked to see what looks like a green stalk rising in the distance. It must be huge if I can see it from here. Another one rising catches my eye, the shock of green brilliant against the smoke of the fire. I stand, unable to take my eyes off as the green stalks rise higher and higher into the sky.
I hear the rhythmic trot of hooves but I don’t turn. Not even when Legs’ horse Philippe nuzzles my shoulder. I instinctively reach up to stroke his snout. Her voice fills the air as we watch the stalks rise. “So, someone finally planted the beans to find the Pool of Truth.”