Two Twisted Crowns (The Shepherd King, #2)

by Rachel Gillig

“He’s a strange man, my father. Wary. Clever. Good.”

WHATTTTT. Tilly is the sheperd kings daughter

“Balance,” she answered, head tilting like a bird of prey. “To right terrible wrongs. To free Blunder from the Rowans.” Her yellow eyes narrowed, wicked and absolute. “To collect his due.”

Chiling

“Aemmory Percyval Taxus.” He dragged his gauntlets across the sand. “That’s my name.”

“There once was a girl,” he said, his voice slick, “clever and good, who tarried in shadow in the depths of the wood. There also was a King—a shepherd by his crook, who reigned over magic and wrote the old book. The two were together, so the two were the same: “The girl, the King, and the monster they became.”

Before your lifetime, he said, before the story of the girl, the King, and the monster, I told an older tale. One of magic, mist, and Providence Cards. Of infection and degeneration. His smile fell away. Of barters made.

The Nightmare cocked his head. “I am not a dragon hording gold.

What a metaphor!

“I know what I know. My secrets are deep. But long have I kept them. And long will they keep.”

For our price it was final, our bartering done. I created twelve Cards… but I cannot use one.

“Listen closely. The journey to the twelfth Card will three barters take. The first comes at water—a dark, mirrored lake. The second begins at the neck of a wood, where you cannot turn back, though truly, you should.” The Nightmare’s gaze shifted to Ravyn. His words came out sharp, as if to draw blood. “The last barter waits in a place with no time. A place of great sorrow and bloodshed and crime. No sword there can save you, no mask hide your face. You’ll return with the Twin Alders… “But you’ll never leave that place.”

I really love the rhyming, but what is this place?

“The disgust,” Ione said, her tone idle, “is mutual.”

Mic droppppp