Page 19 of Wicked Prince of Shadows (Wicked Princes #2)

“I’m trying to figure out how this garden works,” I said. “You’re the chef or the butcher?”

“Both. You’re the Tanith descendant. The bitch who got us stuck here.”

“I had nothing to do with it,” I said, resisting the urge to sigh. I needed to change the subject because I didn’t want to get into the topic again. “But right now I’m stuck here too, and I am working on this garden. So can I have the blood?”

“Fine. Not as if we have any use for it anyway. It’s no good for cooking anymore,” the chef said.

That seemed satisfactory. Two guards assisted the chef, and I marked which plants I gave the blood and which type.

Watering them all was a pain, but as I worked, I tried to learn all I could and struggled to come up with a plan that allowed me to live and ended this curse.

If the portal remained closed down until the end of the blood moon cycle, that meant I was stuck here no matter what.

And also that no help was coming no matter what Enola intended.

Other people popped up, peering at me from over the walls or peeking their heads out from the landing. A few whispered. None came close enough for me to see their faces, but I could tell they were intrigued, perhaps hopeful. If I were in their shoes, I’d likely feel the same.

They all believed I was the princess. The princess whose marriage to their king would end this curse and free them from this miserable existence, allowing them to escape the constant vicious threat of death and return to the Waking Lands. But I wasn’t, and that meant I would die.

In some respects, it wasn’t that different from what Queen Tanith had done if the Hollow King spoke truthfully. The main distinction was that it only condemned one rather than many.

It was much easier to sacrifice a stranger than someone you knew, and it was even easier if you didn’t believe it would cost them that much.

My stomach cramped hard throughout the day, and my head spun. It was getting harder to keep going without food, and I had to drink water. But I took only the barest of what I needed.

No one had ever said you couldn’t drink the water, but part of me wondered if perhaps it had just been missed. What separated food from water? Or fact from superstition?

Maker, help me, I didn’t know, and I wanted this over and done with.

It was late afternoon when I spotted the Hollow King down at the center of the garden near the one tree that had grown the most. Two of his eels coiled around him, weaving in and out of his shadows. The remaining two eels appeared to be investigating the other plants.

I approached him, arms folded. “Are you looking for something in particular?”

He released the fruit he had been examining, his jaw tightening.

One of the smoky eels slid down along his left wing and then back up around his shoulder.

“No.” He straightened his shoulder and pressed the creature back, his touch light and cautious to avoid cutting it with his claws.

“You’ve made substantial progress. I’m surprised you haven’t complained more about the work. ”

I lifted my shoulder, glancing around the garden.

A bit of pride rose within me to see the transformation in this place, even though I wasn’t fully certain how it was working.

My magic did seem to go a little farther out here.

It just also took on unexpected twists too.

“I told you I love gardening, and I’m used to hard work. ”

He nodded slowly, his gaze still on the tree.

Surely he had to see it. He had to know I wasn’t the princess. Which meant if he kept me here…he knew he was sacrificing me. My heart sank.

He turned his gaze back to me. “You still haven’t eaten. This is becoming unreasonable. Will you join me tonight?”

The cramping in my stomach intensified at the thought of any food at all, but I hugged myself tighter, then shook my head. “I appreciate the offer, but I can’t risk it.”

His jaw tightened as did his posture, but he tilted his head again. “As you wish it then.”

I lifted my eyebrow in surprise. He had almost seemed hurt.

An odd twinge passed through me, tightening in my chest. Why did that even matter? His pain and discomfort weren’t my concern. He was the one who kidnapped me after all. It was tragic that he and his people were trapped here, but it wasn’t my fault.

Still I couldn’t fully shake these feelings. I finished tending the plants, whispering words of growth and healing over them. Then I checked the water levels of each one. No magic fully compensated for the basic necessity of hauling water.

At last the sunlight began to dim, draining from the garden in slow, reluctant streaks as if the sun itself feared to leave. But then all too soon, it was gone.

I rubbed my hands together, trying to banish the chill in my fingers, and glanced up.

There in the eastern sky looming over the palace wall was the blood moon. A darker, duller shade now. More ominous and frightening than before.

A shudder passed through me as I stared up at it, my heart thudding painfully in my chest.

“Maker, how am I supposed to survive this?” I whispered. “Please. I don’t want to die out here. I don’t want my soul to be shredded and cast into oblivion. There must be some other way? Some way to save me and not condemn everyone here to remain for even another cycle. We need a miracle.”

Miracles weren’t just available for the asking though.

Closing my eyes, I shuddered again. The fear licked up my spine and bit deep into me, whispering that there was no hope, no chance at all.

I’d die, and all of these people would be stuck here for another cycle or however long until the portal opened and he could try again.

No.

There was. I always figured things out. It was the one thing that outside-wall people like me could do well. We figured out how to survive, even when it was difficult. We fought until we couldn’t.

The night wind stirred the trees, and the blackened branches creaked in answer.

I wrapped my arms tighter around myself, breathing through the tight fear that clamped over my ribs. A few tears leaked down my cheeks, and my throat tightened.

“Hey, princess, come along. It’s late,” Six Stitches called from halfway up the staircase. “Get yourself up here. Don’t make us walk down there again.”

I lingered for a breath, glancing back over my shoulder at the plants.

The small trees and shrubs had grown notably, their branches waving in the wind.

A few of the vines twitched when I looked at them, and numerous planters held buds and plants that were so close to blossoming I could almost imagine their sweet, light perfume.

Of course, in this place, they might wind up smelling more like burned carrion.

My steps sluggish, I forced myself up the dozens of stairs until I reached the guards who then flanked me. We made the now-familiar trip back to my room in silence as my thoughts twisted over all the things I might do and how I might manage my escape when it finally opened again.

But one question lingered in my mind. Could I just flee and leave everyone here to this curse? Just save myself and leave them here to face death and destruction in such a merciless hellscape?

Scared as I was, I was no longer quite so sure.

I started to press my bedroom door open, then glanced back at Six Stitches and Broken Nose in their dark armor. “I’m Sabine, by the way. I don’t think we’ve actually been introduced. What should I call you?”

They exchanged looks. Six Stitches adjusted his grip on his sword hilt, then gestured to himself. “Gehn. And that’s Lou.” He gestured toward Broken Nose. “Blessed rest, Sabine.”

I nodded. “Thank you. It’s good to know your names.

” I couldn’t bring myself to say that it was nice to meet them, but they hadn’t harmed me even though they could have.

They just seemed tired and soul weary really.

And depending on how long they had been in this place, I couldn’t blame them. “Blessed rest to you as well,” I said.

I pushed the door open the rest of the way and stepped in. Darkness enveloped me. Something had changed. Then the realization hit me. My breath hitched.