Twin Crowns (Twin Crowns, #1)

by Catherine Doyle

‘Please stop showing off,’ said Rose, in alarm. ‘You’re going to start a war.’ ‘I think it’s a bit late to worry about that.’ Shen curled an arm around her waist. ‘You look beautiful, by the way. Is it bad luck to kiss the bride?’ Without breaking her gaze he used his free hand to punch another advancing...

Wren spotted her sister, she blew a stray curl from her eye. ‘I need a weapon, Rose. Something I can actually use!’ With a mighty roar, a Gevran soldier came thundering around the back of the altar. He gasped once, then collapsed like a felled tree. Shen appeared behind him, dusting his hands. He pulled his dagger from the soldier’s back and cleaned it on his cloak before tossing it to Wren. ‘How about this?’ Wren beamed as she caught it. ‘This is why you’re my best friend.’ Shen was already gone; he was halfway across the altar now, embroiled in a fight with four burly Gevrans.

There was a flash of lightning, followed by a thundering roar as the doors to the Vault burst open and a howling storm swept in. The altar was blown apart, Rose pinwheeling backwards until she crashed head first into Celeste. She sat up in a daze just in time to see Banba lead the witches of Ortha into the Protector’s Vault. The wind, fierce and rising, came with them. ‘The witches have returned to Anadawn and this time, we are not leaving!’ bellowed Banba, and all the winds of Eana bellowed with her. ‘Drop your weapons and stand aside or prepare to meet your precious Protector in the next life.’ The old witch’s cackle soared, the wind carrying it to every corner of the Vault. ‘What an entrance,’ said Celeste, dizzily. ‘Who is that?’ ‘That is my grandmother,’ said Rose, with no small amount of dread. Banba had come to Anadawn with fire in her eyes and revenge between her teeth. If they didn’t do something fast, she would lay waste to everyone around her, including the people of Anadawn, and the Silvertongue River would run red with their blood. King Alarik emerged from behind an upturned pew and staggered down the aisle. ‘At long last. A witch truly worthy of my attention.’ Banba didn’t even glance in his direction.

‘Show yourself, Willem Rathborne!’ She conjured another fork of lightning, splitting a pew down the middle with an almighty crack. Rowena and Grady stood behind her, adding their own howling gales, while Rose spied Bryony and Thea lingering at the back, nervously surveying the carnage. ‘If you want to fight us, then draw your sword and fight us here and now. We will not wait for your ambush. We have come ready for war!’ ‘And that goes for you Gevrans, too!’ shouted Rowena. ‘We don’t fear your king or your beasts!’ Alarik’s glittering gaze was still fixed on Banba. If he was intimidated by her display, he didn’t show it. Rather, he looked positively thrilled. ‘Why would power like this fear anything but itself?’ He whirled around, searching for his soldiers in the fray. ‘Forget the others! SEIZE HER!’

Without even glancing in his direction, Banba flicked her wrist and sent the Gevran king careening into a wall. ‘Where are my granddaughters?’ A wooden rafter cracked in two, the chandelier dangling precariously above her head. And still, the storm thrashed. At the back of the keep, Chapman struggled to his feet, only to be swiftly knocked out again by a soldier. ‘If any harm has come to either one of them, all of Anadawn will pay!’ While the last of the palace soldiers fled in a panic at the sight of the witches, the Gevrans fought their way towards them, straining against their storm. The witches pushed them back, casting the Gevran beasts aside as they advanced further into the Vault. ‘WREN! ROSE!’ The wind rallied against Rose as she crawled across the altar looking for Wren. She passed Shen’s unconscious body, tears streaming down her face as she inched onwards. Finally, she spotted her si...

Rathborne had lost Sanguis Bellum in the blast, but he was already back on his feet, stalking towards Wren. Rose scrabbled for her sister. ‘Wren!’ Rathborne grabbed the sword Shen had stuck in the plinth. ‘See how the Protector favours me!’ He laughed madly as he pulled it free. ‘He wills your death, just as he wills the death of all witches!’ ‘NO!’ The fire ...

As the blade whistled through the air, something jolted deep inside Rose. For a terrifying heartbeat, she thought it was the sword embedding in her back. But the spark became a burning blaze, and suddenly, she felt her magic bursting like a star within her. Below her, Wren gasped awake, a twin fire shining in her emerald eyes. There was a beat of nothing, where time warped and darkness curled them in i...

In the aisles and among the pews, the witches groaned as they returned to consciousness. While Rose went to help Shen and Celeste, Wren staggered to her feet and searched for Banba. She spotted her lying on her side at the edge of the Vault. ‘Banba!’ She limped towards her grandmother. ‘Wake up, Banba!’ The old witch groaned. ‘My little bird . . .’ she wheezed. ‘My little . . .’ She trailed off, dropping her head once more. ‘I’m here, Banba! I’m coming!’ Wren’s legs were leaden beneath her, her chest aching with each stride. Ahead of her, a Gevran soldier emerged from a mass of groaning bodies and plodded towards Banba. He reached her before Wren, scooping the unconscious witch easily into his arms. ‘NO!’ Wren lunged but her foot caught on a broken step. She crashed to her knees. When she dragged herself to her feet, the soldier was already marching down the hill. ‘Stop!’ Wren stumbled out on to the grass. Her head was still spinning madly and she couldn’t see straight. ‘You can’t take her! She’s ours!’

‘Please!’ Wren screamed her voice ragged as she threw herself down the hill, momentum propelling her fast and hard towards the river. She couldn’t let them leave with Banba. She was the only family Wren had ever known, the only one who had a plan for the future, for the throne they had fought so hard for. She would be lost without her grandmother. Banba would be lost without the witches. She couldn’t let them take her. She wouldn’t.

And then Wren spotted Tor – stiff-backed and solemn – as he carried the body of the dead prince on to the king’s ship. Elske padded wearily at his side. Her tail was singed and her fur was stained with soot. ‘Tor! Wait, please!’ Tor came to a halt. He looked at Wren over his shoulder with such anguish in his eyes, it sent a fissure through her heart. ‘Please. They took my grandmother.’ Her eyes filled with tears as she stumbled towards the ship. ‘Please don’t let them take her from me.’ Tor’s face crumpled. He opened his mouth to say something just as Princess Anika appeared on deck, still drenched in her brother’s blood. His jaw hardened and his demeanour changed in an instant. ‘Get away from here, witch,’ he said, as though he didn’t know Wren. ‘You have no business on this ship.’

His eyes flashed but Wren ignored his warning. She didn’t want his protection, she wanted her grandmother back. She staggered on. ‘Please! Take me instead.’ ‘And what would we do with you?’ said Anika, her voice cruel and mocking. ‘I’ve got magic, too!’ said Wren, desperately. ‘That’s what your king wants, isn’t it? A witch of his own?’ Anika’s lip curled. ‘You have caused enough carnage already.’ She glanced at Tor. ‘Don’t you think it’s time for her to reap what she’s sowed, soldier?’ ‘I think it’s time we stopped wasting our time and resources on these shores.’ Tor continued across the ladder, without looking back. ‘Clearly, they’re cursed.’ Anika leaned over the ship’s railings. ‘Well, I say we leave them with a parting gift.’ Tor stiffened. ‘I don’t think—’ Anika clicked her fingers. ‘Voldsom, attack.’

Elske growled menacingly at the snow leopard before ripping its throat open. The leopard let out a keening cry as it took its last breath and Wren felt the same weakness as she lay back on the grass. The king’s ship was pulling away with Banba and there was only one person standing on deck now. Wren watched Tor sail away from her and found she couldn’t bear it. They couldn’t leave. Not like this. With a hand pressed against the wound in her side, she dragged herself through the grass, screaming for her grandmother. The world dimmed at its edges but she pushed and pushed, ignoring the pain as it lanced through her. For a long time, there was only the Gevran sails fluttering in the distance, the world getting darker and quieter. Then a familiar pair of arms closed around Wren, tugging her back. Elske came to sit beside her, and when the last ship disappeared into the mist, the wolf threw her head back and howled.

Rose shoved a birdcage out of the way to retrieve the painting underneath. It was the portrait Glenna had shown Wren last night. She held it up to the light. ‘That’s Ortha Starcrest,’ she said, in barely more than a whisper. ‘I’ve seen her once before. In a vision at the Mother Tree.’ She frowned as she beheld the girl sitting next to her. ‘But who on earth is that?’ Wren joined her sister by the window. Her gaze lingered on the other sister. A part of her didn’t want to say her name aloud, as though it held an ancient, wicked power. ‘That’s Ortha’s twin sister, Oonagh.’ Rose gasped. ‘Twins,’ she said. ‘It’s just like Banba said.’

Wren glanced sidelong at her sister, feeling a strange twisting in her gut. In all her life, Banba had never uttered a word to her about the existence of Oonagh Starcrest. Until this very moment, Wren had believed that Glenna was the only living witch who even knew of the lost twin. ‘What did Banba tell you?’ she asked her sister. ‘Nothing. It’s as if she was afraid to say anything at all.’ Rose frowned at the portrait. ‘I don’t understand. Why are there two crowns?’ Wren recalled the seer’s words to her in this very tower last night, the story she had unravelled in the darkness as she told her of Oonagh Starcrest. Wren had squirmed hearing it but she knew it was a truth she owed to her sister. After all, the Starcrest sisters were their legacy. ‘Because they were both queens,’ said Wren. ‘At least before it all went to hell.’ Rose clutched the painting to her chest, her eyes growing wide. ‘Tell me what happened.’ So, Wren did.

‘A thousand years ago, the witch queen Moira gave birth to twin girls. Ortha and Oonagh. They were born holding hands, so close they were said to be of one mind. One soul. The twins were powerful, too. And their power was at its strongest when they were together.’ Rose’s brow furrowed and Wren knew she was thinking of that strange explosion in the Vault, the blinding power that had burst from them when they’d held each other. Wren didn’t know if what had happened was a good thing or a bad thing, only that it had unsettled her. She could tell it had unsettled Rose, too. ‘Ortha was mild-mannered and fiercely clever. She had a soft heart and an enquiring mind,’ she went on. ‘Oonagh was rebellious and prone to outbursts. She had a sharp tongue and a sharper temper.’ Wren tried not to linger on their similarities, especially knowing what came after. ‘But the girls loved each other and they believed they could rule together.’ Rose grimaced. ‘So, they just . . . both became Queen?’ ‘It w...

Rose shifted uncomfortably. ‘And . . . Oonagh?’ ‘Oonagh ruined everything.’ Wren turned to the window. The Vault was a blackened shell upon the hill. Guards were still milling back and forth, retrieving the bodies. ‘As the kingdom’s love for her sister grew, Oonagh got jealous. And obsessive.’ Wren rested her elbows on the windowsill and looked to the trees. ‘One day, when she was riding her horse through the woods, she trampled a fawn. It was an accident. But when the animal’s blood seeped into Oonagh’s fingers, everything changed. She found a new way to be powerful. To be better than her si...

‘The witches like to pretend it doesn’t exist. It keeps the young ones from getting ideas . . .’ Wren offered her a half-smile. ‘And the older ones, I suppose.’ Rose wrinkled her nose. ‘So, Oonagh killed animals for power?’ Wren nodded, still trying to navigate the difficult truth of it. At first. But blood magic is twisted and difficult and when you take something that doesn’t belong to you, you lose a part of yourself. The more Oonagh took from living things, the less human she became. Her magic twisted. And so did her soul.’ A shudder passed through Wren at the memory of the seer’s words, at how haunted she had looked when she’d offered them to her. ‘And that’s when Oonagh turned to human sacrifice.’ Rose gulped. ‘Stars. What happened to her?’ ‘Ortha killed her.’ Rose lowered herself on to the rumpled bed, hanging on Wren’s every word. ‘She killed her own sister?’ Wren’s voice hardened. ‘Not on purpose. But Oonagh was a monster, Rose. What else could she have done? The Protector and his men were closing in, exploiting the growing unrest in Eana for their own gain. And it was Oonagh who started the fight with her sister on the banks of the Silvertongue. It was only by sheer lu...

‘I thought so, too. But Glenna said the truth is darker. Closer.’ Wren picked up the portrait of the twins and traced the frown on Oonagh’s face. ‘It was Oonagh who cursed her sister. As they fought, she used a blood spell so powerful we can’t even guess at it. When she drowned that day in the Silvertongue, their magic – and the magic of all the witches in Eana – splintered into five different strands. After that, it was easy for the Protector to take the throne for himself. Ortha was just an enchanter and what could a single enchanter do against the might...

‘Beware the curse of Oonagh Starcrest, the lost witch queen,’ the seer’s words echoed in Wren’s head. ‘The curse runs in new blood. It lives in new bones. ‘ She kept that to herself for now. There was no sense in worrying Rose after everything that had happened. But even as she swallowed the warning, she knew it was fear that made her do it, the terrifying possibility that the cu...

Rose rolled to her feet. ‘I could have sworn Glenna said something about a curse when she died. Something about breaking the ice.’ She shook her head. ‘I can’t remember.’ ‘Never mind,’ said Wren. ‘You should turn your thoughts to your coronation tomorrow.’ Rose blinked at her in surprise. ‘Aren’t you going to fight me for it?’ ‘I don’t want it any more. Not without Banba.’ Not for the first time that day, Wren thought about what lay beyond the Sunless Sea. How long would it take the Gevrans to reach Grinstad and what would their wicked king do with her grandmother once he got home? Banba was a fighter. She had survived Lillith’s War and the howling isolation that came afterwards, living on the edge of a country determined to forget her, but for all the faith Wren had in her grandmother, she didn’t know if she would survive Alarik Felsing. If any witch possibly could. She sank on to the bed, the springs creaking as she scrubbed her hands throug...

Rose was silent for a long time. And then in a voice so quiet Wren barely heard her, she said, ‘We could be different, Wren.’ Wren looked up her. ‘What?’ Rose was wearing a smile she had never seen before – never learned – and behind it, she sensed the ghost of a plan. ‘What if we ruled this land together? You and me. Side by side.’ Wren frowned. ‘Didn’t you hear a word I just said? About what happened the last time two sisters tried to rule together?’ Rose stamped down on the portrait, cracking the frame. ‘We are not them, Wren. We are not cursed.’ She sounded surer by the moment, her eyes as bright and green as the Errinwilde. ‘I should have realized it before. That we could do it together. We’ve been apart our whole lives but now we can make that sacrifice mean something. Look at where we come from, look at everything we’ve learned along the way....

Rose shook her head. ‘I always thought I would rule this land with a husband by my side. A king who was clever and strong and fearless. Why can’t it be a sister instead? Why can’t it be you? If it has been done before, it can be done again. Only this time it will be different. It will be better.’ Wren stood up, slowly. ‘What makes you so sure of that?’ ‘You felt what happened in the Vault today. Together we are more. Together we have true power.’ She took Wren by the shoulders. ‘War is coming. The Gevrans will return and when they do, you and I will face them together. I say we stand side by side and meet their ice with fire.’ Rose stood in the shadow of Glenna’s blood, looking stronger than Wren had ever seen her before. She realized that her...

‘We will not be a curse,’ she said, more to herself than to her sister. ‘We will be a blessing.’ Rose held out her hand and Wren stepped over the portrait of Ortha and Oonagh to take it. Somewhere deep in her bones, she felt the flare of her magic. She smi...

In all the ways Rose had imagined her coronation day, she had never pictured it like this. High up in the east tower of Anadawn, she stood side by side with her sister as they gazed at their reflections in the mirror. Rose’s hair was piled in decadent curls that had been pinned away from her face with bejewelled hairpins. She wore a magnificent pale gold ballgown, trimmed in delicate filigree and finished with a generous train. Wren had left her hair long and loose, and had chosen a slender satin gown of emerald green. Together, they shone green and gold – the colours of Eana. ‘I still don’t see why I couldn’t just wear my trousers,’ said Wren, as she rubbed blush on her cheeks. ‘They’re far more comfortable than any dress.’ Rose wrinkled her nose as she adjusted her skirts. ‘Because this is our coronation, Wren. It’s our chance to show the people of Eana that we’re going to take our duties seriously, that they can trust us to lead them. And since your trousers are practically moulding, they present a thoroughly unsuitable impression.’

Wren pouted. ‘Can’t I at least have a ceremonial sword?’ ‘We’ve already given the goldsmith a headache making your crown,’ Rose reminded her. ‘The poor man was up all night. I’m afraid your new weapon will have to wait.’ Wren stuck out her tongue.

LOL

‘Nice outfit, Shen,’ said Wren, reading her sister’s thoughts. ‘Do you want to swap?’ ‘I’m not sure green is my colour,’ said Shen, but he was still looking at Rose. ‘You look beautiful.’ ‘Thank you,’ said Wren. ‘I was talking to your sister.’ ‘We have the same face.’ ‘And yet you couldn’t be more different.’ Rose adjusted a curl in the mirror to find something to do with her hands. Her thoughts.

‘Are there guards posted at every entrance?’ said Rose, anxiously. ‘I’ve asked Chapman to double them but he’s not quite his usual bossy self. He’s still in a daze over everything that happened in the Vault.’ ‘Well, he’d better snap out of it soon,’ muttered Wren. ‘Unless he wants his precious quill swiftly shoved up his—’ ‘Wren!’ scolded Rose. Her sister might be taking this whole thing calmly but Rose feared some of the guests may have come today with ill intentions. After all, the Kingsbreath had been respected across Eana and news of his deception – and death – was still spreading. She knew there would be concerns about their worsening relations with Gevra as well as questions about Wren – the long-lost princess of Eana. And now this – twin queens. Witch queens. There was still much to explain. Much to prove. Rose hoped they would be given a fair chance.

With Celeste and Shen beside them, Rose and Wren left the east tower and set off for the throne room of Anadawn. They paused for a moment outside the heavy oak-wood doors, the palace guards standing to attention as the coronation party gathered their breath. Rose felt her sister hesitate, and glimpsed a shadow flitting behind Wren’s eyes. She knew she was thinking of Banba, itching to go after her. Even if she wanted to, Rose knew she’d never be able to stop Wren. But they could have this moment, first. The moment that would change everything. ‘Are you ready?’ she said, taking her sister’s hand. Wren hardened her jaw. ‘I’m ready, Rose.’ She was steely-eyed now, her gaze focused. ‘For this. And all that comes after.’ ‘Then so am I,’ said Rose.