Page 118 of Bride of the Corpse King

“It is good to see you restored and at peace as your land is, Allysteir,” the Queen expresses. “Thanks to the Curse-Ender.”

I swallow, uncomfortable with the missing gaps, the slithering feeling of how I should know the man before me despite not recognizing him. A shadow needles my thoughts, imparting a vision of my arms spread before a great shadowland of a Void, of spirit roses and shades.

“Yes.” This Allysteir nods, responding to her, but his eyes don’t flee from mine. “And now, Franzyna Mordhya will rule all Talahn-Feyal as High Queen while I and my bride take a real honeymoon.” He folds his palm into the golden-haired woman’s, smiling softly at her.

“Fair journey across the sea and to the southern lands, my lord,” Narcyssa declares as a gold coach drawn by several winged black horses arrives.

“Thank you. And...” he clasps my hand in his. I shiver from the touch. Sofamiliar. I can’t fathom why tears form in my eyes at the presence of this...stranger. Or why my chest aches and my body feels cold with a melancholic heaviness as he rubs his lips across my knuckles and finishes, “Safe journey and fare thee well, dark rose.”

I nod in gratitude but say nothing as Allysteir drops my hand with a smile. His lips crease at the corners as if wistful. My world slows as he turns and departs with his golden bride.

But the moment Narcyssa pulls upon our bond, heated energy surges inside me. I follow her toward the waiting coach.

Just before I enter alongside her, a wizened, crackly voice utters behind me, “Care for a fythdel bone to take as a memento, sweet champion?”

I turn, screwing my brows low at the weasel-faced man hunched over while offering me a little rectangular bone with a child’s game rune marked upon it. And whatever compels me to accept the gift, I can’t fathom. My heart lurches, and I snatch the token before he changes his mind.

“You may want to fly over the Nathyan Ghyeal Pass. I believe you will find it most...riveting.”

“Thank you, Mr...?”

“Ganyx,” he responds, bony hand touching his chest. It’s all he says before he turns and lowers himself to the ground to play with more bones.

Shaking my head from the awkward encounter, I follow Narcyssa into the coach, clutching the little bone token.

When the horses stride into a canter and then a gallop before finally lifting to carry the coach off the ground, a lovely lightness overtakes my limbs to mirror their wings.

The landscape of Talahn-Feyal transforms into a whirling blur of dramatic mountains, deep green glens, forests, and moors. And as the coach sails across the Nathyan Ghyeal pass of the Five White Ladies, I peer down to behold a beautiful river. Anewriver, sparkling and swirling all around the crest of the highest mountain peak.

I inhale a sharp intake of breath when a new vision drifts into my mind. Ice engulfs my core at the image of the Goddess of Doom weeping, weeping this same beautiful river. But as the vision fades, a smile tugs at my lips. Hope flutters in my belly, and my heart grows wings to soar in my chest.

The coach flies onward, and we leave the river of tears and Talahn-Feyal far behind.

* * *

The End