Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 63709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
I duck my head and hurry down the side path so I don’t have to pass him. Vines line the way. As soon as I’m out of the soldier’s sight, I kick them aside. I’m so hot, I want to tear off this cloak, Alphas be damned.
Above my head, someone hisses, “Rose!”
It’s Leelah, sticking her head out her cottage window. A scarlet rash is creeping up her bronze skin.
“Oh no. Leelah.” I squeeze between two trimmed bushes to approach the window.
She pulls back. “Don't come any closer.” She turns her head, revealing more of the rash. The Red Death. “The curse has come for me.”
I just saw her at the market. How contagious is this thing? “What can I do?”
“Nothing.”
No. “There must be something—”
“Go home, Rose. Stay in, and bar the door.”
“I can’t. Ma—” I can’t finish the sentence.
Leelah’s expression softens. “Oh, no. I’m so sorry.”
My heart is pounding; my skin is burning under my dress. I have to think. What was it Leelah told me earlier? “You said the curse ended when the king found the cure. He could help us, right?”
She presses her lips together. Her gaze strays up to the ruins, high on the hilltop. “They say the king has the power to save us,” she admits. “But no one has seen him for years.”
I turn but the hilltop looks the same. There’s no palace, just a pile of gray-green rock and a thorny tangle of scrub bushes barring the way. “And he’s up there, right?”
“So people say. But he’s asleep. The only one who can wake him is an Omega. His perfect mate.”
“But there aren’t any Omegas. Is there any other way to reach him?”
Leelah shrugs helplessly. “I only know the legend. The love of an Omega will break the spell that binds him, and bring him to life.”
“Okay. Got it. Thanks.” I think I saw a Disney movie like that once. As a kid, I used to love that shit.
“It’s the only way,” Leelah says. “The village council have written to Medea City to petition the advisors who rule in the king’s stead. But they don’t have the power to stop the curse. Only the king does.”
“According to legend.”
“Yes.”
“But no one’s seen the king for years, and the only one who can petition him is an Omega… who doesn’t exist. Do I have that right?”
“Yes.”
“Great. Sounds like a super efficient form of government.”
“I suppose,” Leelah says, not getting the sarcasm.
There’s another Alpha patrol marching up the road. If I sneak out of Leelah’s garden now, I’ll be able to get to the river before they see me. “Thank you.” I hurry away.
“Rose? What are you going to do?”
“I’ll keep you posted,” I call, and wave. Pulling my hood up, I dart across the road. I crouch down until the Alpha soldiers pass, then continue down the riverbank.
The cliff topped with the rocky ruins looms up ahead, casting a shadow over the village.
This is crazy. There’s got to be more to it than some ridiculous legend about magic and curses and mythical unicorn Omegas.
The king has the power to save us, Leelah said. And at the core of all fairytales is a grain of truth.
“Hold on, Ma,” I say, dragging my forearm across my sweaty forehead. “I’m going to get help.”
I pick my way carefully along the riverbank, my mind made up. If the king has the cure, I’m getting it. No matter what it takes.
For Ma.
THREE
Rose
The path to the castle is lined with thorns. I pull my cloak tight as I power up the hill. The heat of the day is fading. I’m still hot, but less so. Moving helps. A strong floral scent is rising from my skin. It’s weird, but as long as I don’t break out into the rash that heralds the curse, I can deal.
All too soon, the worn stone path is completely blocked by towering tangles of the thick, greeny-black vines. They’re a million times worse than the baby tendrils growing in our garden. I duck and twist, fighting my way around them, but after a few feet the brambles are too dense, growing so close together, they choke out the suns.
If Leelah’s fantastical story is true, the king’s grief created this barrier between himself and the world.
“Newsflash, fucker.” I unsheath the giant knife I pinched from the kitchen and start slashing at the toughest roots. “This is nothing a weed-whacker can’t fix.”
After a few minutes of hacking and sawing, I’ve made some progress. Sweat is trickling down my neck, and my arm aches from the repetitive chopping motion. I take a moment to massage my sore bicep, and before my eyes, a pale green tendril sprouts from the nearest vine and grows to block my path.
“Are you freaking kidding me?” I push the tiny shoot away. I’ve never seen a plant grow so fast. This isn’t right.