Page 47 of The Prince and His Stolen Throne

I snorted loud enough to pop Fitz’s swelling ego.

He deflated and asked in a less pompous tone, “Can you tell us what the townspeople have already done to break the curse?”

“We’ve done more maintenance and tracking than breaking,” the mayor explained. “Do you see the white marker there?” He pointed into the trees, at a white stone barely visible in the supernatural darkness. “We place one at the outermost edge of the forest at the beginning of each month to track the tree growth. The boundary expands twenty to thirty feet every year.

“If someone tries to cut the trees down, they defend themselves, entangling people with their roots or attacking with their branches. In the early days, someone tried to burn the trees away, and they came back … worse.”

“Worse how?” Fitz asked.

The mayor leaned in to whisper, “The trees grow back evil. They feed their roots on blood and bone.”

“Wonderful, we’re about to fight cannibalistic trees,” Angelica said.

“Carnivorous,” Maximus corrected. “It’s only cannibalistic if they’re eating other trees.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m sure they careso muchabout proper terminology.”

“They might if they’re sentient.”

We all looked at the trees.

The mayor shuddered and looked away first, slowly circling around our group so we stood between him and the trees. “We’ve tried other things like digging moats and trenches to slow their growth. Nothing works, the forest continues to spread.”

“Can you tell us about the ghost wolves?” I asked.

“I don’t know if they’re really ghosts or not. Fences don’t keep them out, but herbs and salt do sometimes. They only hunt at night and disappear once their mischief is done.”

“Have they ever attacked a townsperson?”

He shook his head. “Not that I’veheard.”

“One more thing,” Fitz said. “What do you know about the Lord of Grimnight?”

The mayor’s brow furrowed. “Who?”

The old man would be insulted to learn his nearest neighbors have never heard of him.I suppressed another snort and explained, “The evil mage who cast the curse.”

“Ah, him. Not much. That was all before my time. I was only a lad when the curse was cast, and it took years for the citizens of Traumstead to abandon home and hope alike. I know he turned the city hall into his lair. We haven’t heard anything from him since.”

“Anything else you can tell us?” Fitz asked.

The mayor looked between the five of us, his eyes pausing on Delilah. She was the smallest and youngest of the group, adorable and sweet when she wasn’t clawing or hissing. She stared back at him innocently with wide, brown eyes, and his expression softened. “Are you sure about this, children? The pay is minimal, barely anything, but the curse is … experienced questers have gone into the forest and never returned. It doesn’t feel right to rely on children to save us.”

“More people than you are relying on us,” Maximus said.

The mayor sized Maximus up, seemed to find him capable of the adventure, and addressed Delilah directly. “Young lady, if you would prefer to stay here, we could find you a room at the inn while your companions continue their quest.”

Delilah blinked and looked at Angelica, who was standing far enough away from her to make it obvious who the mayor was addressing. Delilah pointed at herself and asked, “Me?”

“Yes, I—”

Her lips curled back from her fangs as she hissed.

Startled, the mayor took a hasty step back.

“Between the two of us”—Delilah pointed back and forth rapidly to herself and Angelica—“you thinkI’mthe useless one?”

Angelica huffed. “I’m not useless!”