Two Twisted Crowns (The Shepherd King, #2)

by Rachel Gillig

To anyone who’s ever felt lost in a wood. There is a strange sort of finding in losing.

The Twin Alders is hidden in a place with no time. A place of great sorrow and bloodshed and crime. Betwixt ancient trees, where the mist cuts bone-deep, the last Card remains, waiting, asleep. The wood knows no road—no path through the snare. Only I can find the Twin Alders… For it was I who left it there.

“Elspeth Spindle,” he said quietly, his eyes—so strange and yellow—ensnaring me. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

But his soul carried on, buried deep in Elspeth Spindle, the only woman Ravyn had ever loved.

He didn’t recognize her. Surely he’d recall such a striking face—such a distinct nose. Such vivid, yellow eyes. Yellow.

Okay pause I’m so intrigued

“You’ve heard of him, I suppose.” Her lips curled in a smile. “He’s a strange man, my father. Wary. Clever. Good.”

WHAT

“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.”

“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.”

“You asked for the truth. Truth bends, Ravyn Yew. We must all bend along with it. If we do not, well…” His yellow eyes flared. “Then we will break.”

Providence Cards did not affect the Shepherd King. It was written in The Old Book of Alders. 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.”

Elm’s smile did not touch his eyes. He rolled his shoulder, and Ravyn’s hand fell. Because you’ve never been turned by a beautiful woman, have you, Captain?

dark bird has three heads,” Emory said, his voice strangled, an invisible rope around his neck. “Highwayman, Destrier, and another. One of age, of birthright. Tell me, Ravyn Yew, after your long walk in my wood—do you finally know your name?”

“Why, Ione Hawthorn.” Elm scraped his teeth over his bottom lip. “Don’t tell me it makes you feel something when I flatter you.” “It doesn’t.” Her face was unreadable. Unreachable. “I can’t feel anything anymore.”

She's so intriguing to me

“If you think this is about beauty—that I am opposed to what the Maiden has done—you are wrong. If I could still feel what it is to like something, I would tell you that I like being beautiful. I like being healed by magic and having no pain. I like who I was and how I looked before the Maiden Card as well. What I aim to get back, Prince, is my choice.”

Above rowan and yew, the elm tree stands tall. It waits along borders, a sentry at call. Quiet and guarded and windblown and marred, its bark whispers stories of a boy-Prince once scarred. His voice in Ravyn’s mind went eerily soft. And so, Ravyn Yew, your Elm I won’t touch. His life strays beyond my ravenous clutch. For a kicked pup grows teeth, and teeth sink to bone. I will need him, one day, when I harvest the throne.

“Neither Rowan nor Yew, but somewhere between. A pale tree in winter, neither red, gold, nor green. Black hides the bloodstain, forever his mark. Alone in the castle, Prince of the dark.”

He’d reached into women to find himself, when all he really wanted was for someone to look at him. To admit they knew what had happened to him as a boy and still hold him, unflinching, in their gaze.

My heart hurts for him

“Perhaps one day I’ll make a Card to read your mind, too, Brutus Rowan.”

I have so many questions

To enter a mind is a treacherous walk. There are doors that are meant to remain behind lock. If you wish for that nightmare, give yourself to her, whole. For an eleventh Providence Card— The Spirit demands your soul.

“I don’t know what happened to your children. But I know you would not want to see Elspeth harmed. It is perhaps the only thing I understand about you.”

“She’ll live. All I did was pay her back for breaking your nose.” “I didn’t ask you to do that.” “No. But Elspeth did.”

AHHH I miss her sm

When the Maiden began to dull them, it frightened me—but it was also a reprieve. After a lifetime of feeling things so keenly, the numbness felt good.” She heaved a sigh. “But even that went away. And nothing felt good, or bad, anymore.”

“Yes. A tall man I’ve never seen before guarded me with a sword. He had yellow eyes, just as Elspeth does now. He took my hand, unfurled my fingers. There were three Cards, nestled in my palm. The Maiden, the Scythe—” Her hazel eyes lifted. “And the Twin Alders.”

YOOOO

And Elspeth—her voice was everywhere. A thousand rose petals falling over him. You are in no danger of losing me—your sister—your friends. There is no weakness in pain, Ravyn.

I just love the way they talk to each other

“I’ll take you wherever you want to go, Miss Hawthorn.”

Oh Elm you're in deep

I have not done well, guarding those I cherish.

This pains me

There were not enough pages in all the books Elm had read, in all the libraries he’d wandered, in all the notebooks he’d scrawled, that could measure—denote or describe—just how beautiful she was.

“I thought I’d slipped through the veil. I was riding in the wood, mud on my ankles.” A small smile graced her colorless lips. “With you.” Elm buried his face in her neck. “Someday. But first, I want a hundred years with you.”

I'm gonna cry I love them so much

“You must know,” he said, “that I was never going to allow the King to spill her blood to unite the Deck.” The Nightmare was still a long while. Then, so quiet it might have been waves upon the shore, he said, “You would bleed in Elspeth’s place? In my place?”

Ravyn my babyyyy

I’ve been dying piece by piece since Emory grew sick.” His throat constricted. “I have died tenfold since Elspeth disappeared. And now your mist has claimed my sister. So do not speak to me of cost, Spirit.” His eyes fell to the Twin Alders in her claw. “I am leaving here with that Card. Or I am not leaving at all.”

There was something strangely familiar about his face. But before Ravyn could put his finger on what it was—

I'm really starting to feel like Ravyn and The Shepard King are related

“For even dead, I will not die. I am the shepherd of shadow. The phantom of the fright. The demon in the daydream. The nightmare in the night.”

“Taxus. My name is Taxus.”

Hey so I'm wildly confused

Blunder families have always taken the names of the trees, I whispered. But I have never heard of a tree called Taxus. That’s because it is an old name, came his oily reply. For an old, twisted tree. Like the last line of a poem, the truth fell into place. A yew tree.

“Pray she forgives you for trading that Nightmare Card for a marriage to Hauth. Because I never will.”

Iktfr

Because if you do, and we never get the time we’re owed, I’ll hate you, Ravyn Yew. I’ll love you and hate you forever.

“I wanted a better Blunder for her. If you perish, that Blunder will never exist.”

I’ll tell you a story, I whispered. It always helped me sleep as a child.

Why am I cryinggg I love them

And though it had taken slow, painful time, I knew who I was without him. I was more than the girl, the King, and the monster of Blunder’s dark, twisted tale. I was its author.