Page 50 of Ringmaster (The Kingdom of Shadow & Bone #1)

I hug Azrael a little tighter, pressing my body to his so that everywhere I fit against him we meet.

I close my eyes, savoring our closeness.

His scent surrounds me, and I nuzzle against the crook of his neck.

Breathing him in, I memorize his smell, and the way it settles all my nerves.

My fingers curl into his shirt, anchoring myself to the only place that feels certain.

The chaos beyond us fades, leaving only this—his warmth, his strength, and the quiet truth that I could stay here forever.

He cups my face gently, and I lay my cheek against his hand for what just might be the last time.

Goodbye is going to break me. I fight hard to keep it together.

Azrael sighs, his hands stroking down my back.

“What is it?” I ask.

“I can’t explain it,” he mutters.

Sensing his unease, I don’t press him. Instead, I rise on my toes and brush a quick, teasing kiss against his bottom lip. He laughs, and I tuck the sound away like a treasure.

When he smiles down at me, I smile back. I would do anything for him—even die for him. If my death means that he can go on living, I’ll make the sacrifice. I swallow the hard knot in my throat, dreading our final kiss. I don’t want it to be our last, yet I know it will be.

His soft lips meet mine, and I’m gone—completely lost in pure bliss as I kiss the boy who befriended me and the man I fell in love with goodbye.

His tongue sweeps past mine as if some part of him is preparing, as if some part of him senses this might be the last time we’re together.

His fingers tangle in my hair, tugging just enough to make me shiver.

I love when he kisses me like this—deep, longing, as though he’s making up for all the moments we were forbidden from being together.

When he begins to pull away, I fist his shirt and draw him back, craving more.

It can’t be time to let go. I run through everything I never want to forget—his scent, the heat of his body against mine, his laugh, the sound of his voice.

My chest tightens as emotions threaten to spill over, and I force it back behind the walls I’ve built.

At last, I release him. Memories threaten to overwhelm me, so I shut them off, clearing my mind until it’s a blank slate. “Goodbye, Azrael,” I whisper.

“It’s not goodbye, my love,” he rasps, sweet as honey, “I’ll see you soon.”

I force myself to nod, holding myself together, arms crossing over my chest before I realize it. “Are you cold?” he asks, voice laced with concern.

“No, just nervous.” The lie flying easily off my lips.

“Mmm.” His eyes narrow slightly.

I drop my arms to my sides to prove I’m fine.

Azrael dips his chin so that our eyes meet one last time. I memorize the details—the deep blues, the wisps of black, the glittering flecks, and coal-dark pupils that pierce into my soul.

“I love you,” he says softly.

“I love you too. Always and forever. Thank you, Azrael. For saving me, and for loving me all this time.”

“Mercy, you’re my only light in this world. I will always save you.”

His words send a shiver through me. He smirks, presses one farewell kiss to my lips, then turns away, dissolving into a swirl of shadow.

Madame Zora opens the door to the enchanted boxcar, her voice a singsong invitation. “Come in, child. We have many things to discuss.”

***

We weave deep into the enchanted boxcar, hundreds of unspoken words passing between us. We each know what the other must do to carry out their respective roles in destiny. Zora glances over her shoulder with tear-filled eyes. I’m sorry, she mouths before turning her focus to our path.

We sweep past floor-to-ceiling shelves filled with ingredients and tinctures.

Tarot cards lie abandoned on a table in the next room.

Zora leads me deeper still, through the room where the crystal ball rests.

It flickers as we pass—a final goodbye, perhaps.

Finally, we step through a set of french doors into a greenhouse.

Glass lines every wall and rises all the way to the ceiling, each pane framed in gold.

I stare through them at the darkening world.

Above us, the sky churns—dark and stormy, an omen of what’s to come.

Zora scurries down a row of plants in search of lilies.

I can only watch in dread. My mother will be heartbroken if things don’t go as planned.

What will she say? Where will she go? My heartbeat quickens, dread creeping in like an uninvited guest. I never thought about how this would affect her, and now I fear it’s too late to turn back.

The only way out of this mess is forward.

Azrael will never forgive me for my sacrifice.

How badly will this hurt him? Not enough to end him.

I remind myself. It’s the only way for at least one of us to keep on living.

As the prince, his role is far greater than mine.

He has… prince things to do—though now I realize I don’t actually know what those are, or even where he was going tonight.

When he returns, I’ll already be gone. I won’t get another goodbye.

If I’d told him, he would have turned our story into a tragic romance before living a single day without me.

I shudder to imagine what he might do when he finds out.

“I found them,” Zora says, breaking through my spiraling thoughts.

She notes their location, then moves to a workbench lined with tools and shelves.

Donning a pair of gardening gloves, she grabs a carved wooden bowl, shears, and large tweezers.

My heart pounds in my chest as she returns to the dreadful red lilies.

I glance about for the comforting sight of marigolds, but there are none.

“Zora,” I say, my voice unsteady.

“Mmm,” she murmurs, focused on her task.

She grips the first lily at its base with the tweezers, snips the stem, and drops the bloom into the bowl. I can’t look away as she repeats the process twice more. When the final flower lands in the bowl, she hurries toward the far side of the greenhouse.

“Zora,” I call after her.

She stops and turns. “Yes, dear?”

“Do you have any marigolds? I just thought… I’d like one for me, and one for Azrael.”

She nods. “Come with me.”

I follow her into another room, my gaze snagging on the many oddities and bright trinkets along the way. We enter a small chamber with a freshly made bed—I can only assume it’s meant for me.

“Make yourself comfortable. I will return in a few minutes with the flowers,” she says, bowing before pulling the door closed behind her.

I sit on the edge of the bed, feeling defeated as I wait for her to come back.

She returns a few moments later carrying an old, worn top hat. Thrusting it in front of me, she mumbles, “Picture what you want and pull it out of the hat. It will appear in your hand.”

I gaze at her, bewildered by the explanation. Magic has always been all around us, and now that I finally can experience it, my life is being cut short. I think of the Fates’ reminder. Taking a steadying breath, I plunge my hand into the hat.

Images flash through my mind: golden marigolds and how they glow under the lights of the big top, the silver slivers of moonlight falling across them when I’d lay them on my pillow at night.

There’s a tingle in my fingers, and then I can feel myself holding something. When my hand emerges, two perfect yellow marigolds are clasped in my fist.

Tears fill my eyes, though I don’t allow them to flow over. Zora wraps her arms around me, pulling me into a warm embrace. “It’s not goodbye, Mercy. It’s only see you later. I will keep your mortal body safe, until you rise again.”

She kisses me softly on the forehead. “Safe journeys, my lady.” Gesturing toward the bowl of flowers on the bedside table, she adds, “I’ll give you some privacy.”

Her hands give mine one final squeeze before she backs away slowly, tears flowing freely down her cheeks, leaving me alone with death.

I glare at the flowers. I will never forgive this punishment. That something so cherished by me—and a symbol of Azrael’s love—should become the weapon of my death feels like the Fates’ cruelest mockery. My heart cracks, but I inhale, imagining it healed. I will not shed a tear.

“If this is what I must do to prove my love…

“ My voice rises, shouting to no one, though I know they are listening.

I direct my next words to the Fates themselves.

“If this is what I must do to prove myself worthy of him, then I will do it in every lifetime, over and over again.” My body shakes, but I refuse to break.

I draw a breath. “I will not shatter. Do you hear me? I will not break!”

The lump in my throat feels enormous, as though it might choke me, but I swallow it down.

Eyeing the beautiful blossoms with their deep red pigment, I reach a trembling hand out.

Even the barest touch can be poisonous. My finger hovers just above the first bloom.

Closing my eyes, picturing Azrael, I pluck it from the bowl.

In one motion, I bring it to my lips and swallow it whole.

Bitterness coats my tongue, my body warning me to reject it.

My stomach heaves, but I force it back. I grab the second flower and choke it down.

This one burns as it goes, my tongue already numb, unable to taste its vile poison.

I reach for the third and devour it. Fire races through my veins, every nerve aflame.

The room spins. I cling to Azrael’s image, wanting his face to be the last thing I see—but Marblas’ visage fills my mind instead. I remember my instructions.

Marblas, I call through the bond, exactly as the Fates taught me. I’m so sorry. Come to me, please. Don’t tell Azrael. My hand tightens around the marigolds as I wait.

I’m on my way. You aren’t the only one with an important role to play, he replies, voice steady as though he has lived this a thousand times.

My vision hovers between blurry and clear as the poison spreads through my blood. Pain explodes in my muscles. It hurts, but I keep blocking Azrael out. I won’t hurt him—this isn’t his burden; it’s mine.

Marblas arrives seconds later, escorted by Zora. He steps in the room and is instantly by my side. My lady, can you climb onto my back so I can take you to your final resting place? he asks gently.

I stumble as I climb from the bed and slide over his back. The fur is soft. I tangle my fingers through it into his mane. I take a deep breath, even though it hurts.

“Goodbye, Zora,” I whisper as Marblas carries me past her and out of the boxcar.

He strolls down a worn path. The world flashes in and out of existence around me. It’s freezing outside. Another flash, and we’re next to a smaller tent. I can barely make out its stripes as my vision flashes in and out.

Marblas chuffs in frustration. I can tell I’m allowing my emotions to leak down our bond as I continue to hold the wall between myself and Azrael’s in place.

My strength is fading, but unlike the last time I saw Marblas, he doesn’t restore my power as it begins to stutter out.

I reach for it, and come back feeling empty.

Looking at my hands, I check to see that the flowers are still there.

A warm light washes over me as the pain fades, dulling to a manageable annoyance.

Inside the tent is a carved wooden slab with a small pillow and a white sheet draped over a section of it.

Azrael inches toward it, stepping through the only opening between the hundreds of beautiful flowers surrounding it.

He stops next to the slab, and when I reach out to run my fingers over the carvings, they glow beneath my touch.

Lay down and rest, Marblas whispers.

I follow his directions, laying my head on the soft pillow. The wood is hard and cold against my back.

I’m cold. But before I finish my thought, pain erupts, blinding me as the world fades and the agony spreads in every direction.

Marblas eases himself down next to me, the warmth of his body against mine as he lays his giant head across me nonexistent. It’s almost over. I know it hurts, Marblas offers in comfort.

I feel my wall crumbling. Bit by bit, every piece that was holding it in place comes careening down into a pile of rubble. He reaches for me, and as soon as he realizes what’s happening, his anger blasts through the bond, followed by crashing waves of pain. Then everything stops.

Blackness surrounds me, swallowing me whole. I’m falling. The pit in my stomach grows as I begin to fall faster—but I don’t wake up. I keep falling until, below me, the ground becomes visible, and I slam against it with a thud.

Something hard nudges into my back, and I roll over to look up at whatever it is. Marblas is standing over me—nothing more than shadow and bone, his black eyes glowing.

“Where are we?” I ask. “Am I dead?”

“The Kingdom of Shadow and Bone. And I don’t know.” Marblas replies, his voice a deep rumble.

“You can speak outside my mind?” I gasp.

“Here I can, yes,” he answers, his eyes darting around. “Can you stand?”

I push myself up off the ground, wobbling. When I lean down to hug Marblas, I’m surprised at how silky soft his shadow-steeped mane is.

“Come on, we need to get you inside the gates.”

I follow his line of sight and spy a pair of towering gates carved from bone and wrapped in shadows some distance away. Beyond them, everything is black and empty—or possibly shrouded in shadows to prevent enemies or unwelcome guests from seeing inside.

“It’s so far,” I complain, my knees trembling.

“Climb onto my back, and I will carry you,” Marblas commands.

I do as he says, and together we walk across the barren dirt until we reach the towering gates of the Kingdom of Shadow and Bone.