Crowntide by Alex Aster - 11

There he was. The lost king was just a man sitting by himself at the bottom of the sea, far from any other prisoner. His back was to them, but Grim could see a flash of silver hair and luminous skin.

He was tied down not by one single chain but ten.

They snaked around his ankles, his wrists, his neck, his waist. Even so, he wasn’t fighting to get loose like the others. No, he seemed perfectly at peace, as if he hadn’t even noticed that he wasn’t drowning anymore.

This was him. Grim was sure of it.

They didn’t waste a moment. They hurried closer, and when Grim could finally get a look at him, he observed that unlike the other prisoners, he was perfectly intact. His skin had not pruned and decayed over time. Sea creatures had not burrowed into his hair and skin.

The man’s eyes, however, were open and unblinking—and missing their pupils. There was only swirling, misty white. His spine was straight. His legs were crossed in front of him. He made no indication that he knew he was no longer alone.

“How do we wake him?” Oro asked.

Grim shrugged and snatched the dagger from Oro’s hand. He trained it against the prisoner’s neck.

And the man’s eyes rolled down from the back of his head. His pupils were silver, gleaming. Otherworldly.

He looked up at Grim and seemed almost disappointed.

“It’s time, then?” he said in a voice that echoed along the tide-swept walls.

Grim frowned. “Time for what?”

“For my story to come to an end,” he said simply. He gazed past Grim, at Oro.

“Three kings. Reunited,” the man said, under his breath. He huffed a strange laugh. “I suppose it came true after all . . .”

“What did?” Oro demanded.

The man ignored the Sunling’s question. He seemed unconcerned by the blade Grim still had trained at his throat. He just groaned as he stood, as if he had been sitting for a long while, even though he must have been floating before, when the water hadn’t been swept away. He stretched his neck with a crack.

Grim finally threw the dagger down. He didn’t have time for riddles, or games. “We—”

“I know who you are,” the man said, matter-of-factly. “I’ve seen everything.”

Grim wondered how that was possible, when this bastard had been stuck sitting by himself beneath the ocean for who knows how many hundreds—or thousands—of years, then decided he actually didn’t give a fuck. He said, “Good. Then you know why we’re here.”

The man nodded. He looked them both over. “You want to reach her.”

Her . Somehow, this lost king knew about Isla.

“Can you help us?” Oro asked.

He nodded again . . . then pursed his lips. “Though I’m not sure whether I’m going to.”

If Grim could access his shadows, they would be wrapped around this man’s neck. But he coudn’t. He reached for the dagger once more, but Oro gave him a look that said it wouldn’t be in their best interest to slice this being into a bloody mess, though clearly the Sunling was also considering it.

“Why not?” Grim ground out.

“The future is split, just as she is. I’m sure you know that already . . .” he sighed. “There’s still a chance he wins. And giving you what I have would only add to that chance.”

“Who? Who could still win?” Oro said.

The man looked over at Grim. “Who do you think?”

Cronan . And even his name in Grim’s thoughts sent a chill through his blood. The original Nightshade. The one who had started the tradition of all Nightshade rulers siring dozens of children who fought to the death to decide the strongest heir—and decide who would continue the line.

The ruler Grim, for centuries, had assumed was dead. But he wasn’t. His coffin had been empty this entire time. It was a portal to the otherworld, where he had escaped.

Grim had inherited Cronan’s flair. Portaling. It was their only hope now at getting her back. It, and this lost king.

The man then said the words Grim had been too terrified to truly consider. “Cronan will find her, if he hasn’t already.”

Grim’s knees nearly buckled. His soul seemed to press against his ribs, as if in agony, as if begging to go to her by any means necessary .

Cronan was famed for his cruelty. He was also the most powerful Nightshade in history. Grim guessed that he, like so many of his ancestors before him, was desperate to claim Infinite. And now, the only thing that stood between him and that diamond was his wife’s life.

Grim’s vision turned black with panic. He would have fallen over, if it wasn’t for Oro, holding him steady. He looked over at the Sunling and saw an understanding. They were both united in their worry. In their pain. In their love for her.

What a strange thing . . . to be grateful to a man for loving his wife.

“He’s been looking for her, all this time . . .” the lost king continued. “Though he didn’t quite know what he was searching for.”

“Why?” Grim demanded, surprised he could even get the word out.

“She’s his Worldkey.”

“His what ?” Oro said.

The man gazed upward, as if only now realizing that he could glimpse the sky far above them. He frowned. “Cronan has spent millennia tearing apart galaxies, looking for a single place. Only this world stands between him and what he wants. He was banished from here long ago . . . Isla is his key back.”

“How?” Oro demanded.

“She has all six abilities, and wears the diamond Infinite, which cast him out. With her help, he could return. And if that stone were ever wielded together with his sword and crown . . . he would have the power to rule everything . . .”

Grim thought back to Cronan’s sword, the weapon he and Isla had desperately searched for, for months. It was how they fell in love. He had needed the blade to control the dreks, the vicious monsters who had nearly ended his realm. Isla had helped him. She had unlocked the curse on it. And the price had been her life.

Dread spilled through Grim’s bones. This entire time . . . he had searched for and claimed everything his ancestor needed. As if he had been a pawn in a grand plan.

And now Isla was in danger because of it. When all he had ever wanted was to save her . . .

“In this world exists one last key, fated to unlock the entire universe, including the world he seeks. With it, he could conquer every galaxy. Join them. Control any and all power that flows through them.” The lost king continued, “This entire world was a prison once, you know,” the man said, looking lost in his mind again. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, and only white remained. “It exists on a bridge between galaxies. Some of the most powerful relics in the universe were hidden here. It was no coincidence that Cronan portaled Lark and Horus and their people to this world. He was after the diamond. But the diamond was not like other items he had claimed. It required a soul. It required love . He thought he could trick it with a manufactured home and the motions of love, but the diamond was not fooled. When he tried to claim it . . . it cursed him. This world became a poison for him, and he was forced to flee . . .” He blinked, his pupils returning. The man’s expression was almost pitying. “The universe would have remained safe if she had just stayed.”

Oro took a step forward. “If she would have stayed, Lark would have destroyed this world. She made a sacrifice to save us all.”

“And might have doomed the universe in the process,” the lost king said simply.

Now. Now was the moment Grim was going to kill him. But the king turned and said, “After Cronan left, he tried to create his own world, using his tie to Lark’s power. But it was twisted . . . wrong. Now, all who exist there are those who perished due to a curse derived from his power.” He looked at Oro. “You’ve been to it.”

Oro’s brow furrowed. “No, I haven’t.”

“Where did you think the island disappeared to during the curses?”

“The storms—”

“Were part of that world.”

Oro shook his head. “No. We could see the storms engulf the island. We could see the frozen shards of them off the coast during the Centennial.”

The silver-haired king simply shrugged a shoulder. “Worlds oftentimes bleed into each other. Especially when they’re portaled in and out of one another. That’s what we should all fear . . .” He peered at Grim and Oro. “Go to the cursed world, where the victims of the curses live, and find the knowledge that was lost. All the realms must play their role in this war,” he said. He exhaled deeply. “I have lived . . . a thousand lives. Right here.” Grim didn’t know what he meant. He truly did not care . “And it has all led to this.” He considered them for a long moment before continuing. “History repeats itself, again and again. Break the cycle. Be strong enough to make the right choice.” With those words, he beckoned for Oro to come closer and searched the Sunling’s face. Grim’s impatience was about to break when the lost king finally blinked, his previously wary expression now confident. Whatever he had found in Oro’s expression had seemed to allow him to make a decision.

The lost king reached out his palm. And gold rose from deep within his skin until it broke free to rest in his hand. A pile of golden, thickly woven, glimmering threads that looked almost like sand, fused together.

“One of the last remaining pieces Cronan needs to take over the universe,” he said. “The Threads of Time. It must not fall into his hands.” His silver eyes glimmered. “This is the key to breaking the universe . . . and to saving it. You must find a way to get it to her. It is the only thing that can help her right everything.”

Grim reached for the threads. . . . but the lost king seemed to hesitate.

“She becomes the villain of this world just as many times as she becomes its hero,” he said.

“No,” Oro said fiercely. “She is not a villain.” He looked pointedly at Grim. “She’s just a ruler who has been given too much power, too quickly. Any wrong she has done was done by accident.”

The lost king’s look was almost pitying. “And Cronan was once just a boy who killed his parents.”

Grim swallowed. Just like Isla. Just like he was once a boy who killed his sister.

And this pain . . . this rage . . . this regret . . . He knew what it was like to be consumed by it, to search relentlessly for a cure to undo what had been done.

Was that what Cronan was after?

He remembered Oro’s words. About how his love had corrupted Isla further . . .

“Who are you?” Oro asked the lost king.

He smiled weakly. “I am but a prisoner from another world, just like the others. But I chose this sentence.”

“Why?” the Sunling said, clearly shocked.

The lost king gazed at the threads in his hand. “I wanted to live a thousand lives.”

Grim reached for the threads at the same time Oro did. And as both their fingers locked around them—

The man vanished, leaving only a pile of chains behind.

Grim didn’t know how these threads would help him get his wife back. The lost king had said they needed to get them to her—but he hadn’t told them how .

The sea-swept walls around them began to tremble, as if the ocean was fighting its restraint. As if Cleo was losing her hold.

“We need to get out of here,” Oro said.

Grim agreed.

Neither released their grip on the threads.

Oro scowled. “I want the same thing you do. If we’re going to find her, we have to trust each other.”

“I do trust that you love her,” Grim said. “But I also know you love your people. Your friends. I would choose her over the world. Can you say the same?”

They glared at each other. Oro opened his mouth, then seemed to change his mind about whatever he was going to say. He let go. “She would never forgive you, you know,” he said. “If you destroyed the world for her.”

“I know,” Grim said, which was the only reason he hadn’t already done it to get her back.

The stairs Cleo had made were still yards away. Beasts stood in their path, including that scorpion.

He didn’t have a sword anymore. Just the dagger he had lent Oro.

With a grunt, he pulled at the chains, seeing they ran beneath the sand. Oro followed suit. The lost king’s shackles were longer than any of the others. They seemed to have run through the entire length of this prison.

They shared a look.

Together, they ran, tearing those chains from the ground. And when they came across that scorpion again, they didn’t have to speak as they split up, the chain taut between them. When the creature lunged at them, they caught it on its legs, and the beast came crashing down with a sea-rattling bellow.

Grim used his dagger to slice away one of its massive, razor-sharp scales, and he tossed it to Oro.

Together, they rushed toward that wall of steps, cutting down anything that remained in their path. But when they finally reached the wall, the sea was shaking so forcefully, entire steps of ice were breaking off, nearly crushing them.

Grim jumped up, took hold of the bottom ledge, and began to climb. Oro was right beside him. The steps were massive, but far apart. They’d have to leap onto each one to reach the top.

There was a sickening crack, and Grim looked up to see a shard of ice the size of his body careening toward them. He and Oro barely lunged out of the way in time. It shattered against their step, tearing it in half, smashing against a creature that had been trying to reach them.

They shared an uneasy glance before they lunged for the next step. And the next. Grim jumped just as the stair beneath his feet fell away.

The entire sea wall was rattling now. The steps shook with it. Grim stumbled as the ice fractured below his feet. The moment he landed on a ledge, he leapt for another, his arms burning with strain, his pulse racing as he fought his way up as fast as he could. Ice rained down in pieces, slicing against his skin, but he didn’t slow. Not when all the steps below him were gone. The ones above him were already crumbling.

“Just a little farther,” Oro yelled over the roaring.

Grim jumped onto the next ledge, relief snaking down his spine as he felt the ice hold. Its cold burned his palm as he pulled himself up. There was only one step left.

He hoped it was high enough for them to get their powers back—or they would be stuck. The ledge would crumble, and they would fall back into the depths of the prison. The sea would bury them for good.

Grim jumped with all his strength—and his fingers locked around the cold edge. He pulled himself onto it.

And with mind-melting relief, he felt the shreds of his power awakening.

Oro was below. The step he was on had already cracked. It wouldn’t hold much longer. “Jump,” Grim said, crouching on the ledge, feeling it loosening. All he needed was to fully stand. He could do it now, and portal away. He could leave Oro behind.

Instead, he sighed and turned to extend his hand.

Oro just stared at it. Grim could read the emotions on his face. Distrust. Worry. The Sunling thought Grim was going to take his hand, only to drop it, and put an end to him once and for all. “Just fucking jump,” Grim snarled.

And the Sunling did. With a grunt, Grim pulled him up onto the ledge with all his strength.

But it was too late. The step beneath them both fell away—

Grim took hold of Oro and used all his strength to jump as high as he could, with the Sunling weighing him down.

There they were—the embers of his power. He clutched those tatters and was able to portal them just a few feet higher, where his abilities roared to life. And then, he portaled them back to Cleo.

The moment they appeared, the Moonling’s knees buckled. The ocean roared as it filled the gap once more, water shooting upward as the sides rejoined. Grim had doubted the Moonling, but he had been wrong.

Cleo had held.

She looked absolutely spent, her entire body twitching on the rocks of the isle. Still, she found the strength to peer up at them, long moon-white hair plastered to her face. “Did you find him?” she croaked.

Grim nodded.

The Moonling collapsed against the salt-licked stone.