Page 123 of Dance of Kings and Thieves

Calista’s words bloomed in my chest. The girl’s words were unfolding with each step we took. She’d been guiding me for this moment. Blood was not the answer to break Valen’s curse. I was.

The light of his heart could only mean Elise.

I had the queen’s ring, but I was, at my core, always a memory worker.

“Valen, let me show you why you should let go of the pain.”

I prayed to any gods listening that he’d trust me. Even for a moment, I prayed he’d walk with me as Kase had until he found the doorway out of this torture.

His jaw pulsed, but soon enough, Valen reached one of his hands and curled it in my smaller palm. I tugged, easing him off his knees and back to his feet.

“Stay with me,” I whispered. “I’ll be with you to the end.”

At our first step, a hiss came to our backs. Black mist shifted and thrashed like a swarm of black bees waiting to sting. Valen studied the mass of darkness, watching it sway like a coil of dark sea mist blowing in a violent wind.

“Darkness lives in me,” he whispered.

I pulled him another step. “But there is more to you than darkness. You must simply remember it and believe it.”

The king grimaced, as if pulling away from the demon at his back was painful.

The more steps we took, the more smoke billowed around our legs. The same as stealing memories through bone dust, smoky shapes and dark figures formed from the empty abyss beneath our feet.

A scene built, and we could hear distant voices speaking in whispers, becoming clearer the closer we stepped.

“Are you paying for my silence?”

“Doesn’t everyone in Mellanstrad?”

My breath hitched. Valen’s hand tightened in mine.

“What is this?” he asked.

“Memories.” I smiled as the smoke pulled away and the moment in his past sharpened. “The ones you hold close to your heart. The ones darkness wants you to forget.”

Valen and Elise stood close in some sort of damp alley behind a rowdy building. She looked different, dressed like, well, she was dressed like a boy. And Valen, he wore a bleeding waistcoat. His hair was golden and shorter in his memory. And . . . where the hells were his fae ears?

I bit back on my questions and listened.

The memory version of Valen leaned close to Elise’s ear. She stiffened. I wasn’t certain she even breathed.

“Even still,” he whispered, “keep yourshimfor another day,de hän.”

The memory faded away.

At my side, Valen looked weak, but a faint smile tugged on his lips. “That was the first time I ever spoke to Elise. She thought she was so clever dressing like a man. I could spot her across a room.”

Behind us, the hissing and snapping of the beast still clawed its way at our backs.

“Come, let’s keep moving.” I held onto his arms, taking a few shuffling steps before a new memory appeared.

“Are we in a library?” In every direction were walls of books and parchment. A hint of dust, mint, and wine wafted in the air.

But in the center of the memory, Valen was still dressed like the merchants in Klockglas. He took a sip out of a drinking horn, grinning behind the cup at Elise who sat on a fur-covered duvet. She wore a crown of rowan berries and kept her hair long over her shoulders.

The fire of a queen had not yet ignited in her eyes.

“Kvinna,” Valen said, a laugh in his voice. “What is it you want to ask?”