Shadow Heir

“That’s not possible. I mean, the Thorn Land’s a desert! And besides, I would know... .” Yet, even as I spoke, I wondered if that was true. Would I know? I had removed myself from the land, leaving it to Jasmine’s care. I didn’t connect with it in a deep way anymore. All I had was that steady humming that told me my bond to my kingdoms was in place—a bond, I realized, that had felt numb recently. I’d written it off to distance or Jasmine’s caretaking. “It’s not because of Jasmine, is it? Like, did the land not accept her?”

“You’re missing the point again, Eugenie. It’s everywhere. Yours. Dorian’s. Everyone’s.”

“Dorian’s ...”

That was what really drove the point home. Despite Roland’s words, there was some part of me that could still blame my absence for the blight in my own lands. Other kingdoms’ suffering could be written off to weak monarchs. But Dorian? Dorian was strong. His bond to his kingdom was rock solid, his control of it absolute. If there was any monarch whose power would protect his land against impossible odds, it would be Dorian, followed closely by Maiwenn.

“Oh my God,” I said. “That’s what they wanted, isn’t it? Dorian and Maiwenn summoned Volusian to come to me with some message, and I sent him away. I thought it was a ploy, but it wasn’t—was it? They were trying to tell me about this.”

“Most likely,” agreed Roland. “I hadn’t heard about that. Dorian only recently got in touch with me to convince me to come over and see it for myself. Then he begged me to let you know what was happening.”

“Dorian doesn’t beg,” I murmured, still stunned.

Roland stared off into the shadows, his face troubled. “Under most circumstances, I wouldn’t have told you. People can’t live in cold like that, and those who survive have no food. You know how I feel about the gentry. But when I actually saw it ... the death and sickness. Well. I don’t know, Eugenie. I don’t like them, but no one should suffer like that. Not even the gentry.”

I sank down to the grass, mostly because I felt exhausted in mind rather than body. My lands. My kingdoms were suffering ... had been suffering for a long time ... and I hadn’t known. Maybe I could leave Otherworldly politics behind. Maybe I could even leave my enemies behind. But the land was part of me. I was responsible for it, and I had failed it.

“I don’t know what I can do,” I said. “Even if I went back ... I mean, if Dorian and Maiwenn haven’t come up with any ideas, I’m not sure I could do better.”

“They mentioned something about uniting powers to attempt to break the spell.... I didn’t really follow that, though.” Roland’s tone conveyed that even if he pitied the gentry for their suffering, their magic was still something he had no use for. “Dorian also has some ideas about who’s responsible.”

Of course he would. Even if his own magical attempts proved ineffectual, Dorian wouldn’t sit idly by. He’d try to solve this mystery. My knowledge of the situation was limited, but I tried to figure out where his thought process might go. I jumped back to one of Roland’s earlier comments, about how some outlying kingdoms hadn’t been affected.

“Who isn’t under the blight?” I asked. “You said a few weren’t.”

“The Yew Land is one,” said Roland, looking surprised at my leap. “That’s who Dorian thinks—”

“—is responsible?” I guessed.

“How did you know that?”

“Because as much as I hate to admit it, I know how Dorian thinks. If some places were affected and some weren’t, I’d look at the unaffected ones too.”

“That’s what Dorian said.” Roland didn’t look pleased that I could “think like Dorian,” and I could definitely understand his dismay. “But that’s not all. Apparently, they’re making quite a profit off of food. Their land—and I guess their, what, subsidiaries?—are still able to grow and produce food, and they have no qualms about selling it to the stricken lands at very, very high prices.”

I was aghast. “That’s terrible.”

Roland shrugged. “But some of the monarchs are willing to pay, rather than see their people suffer. And it’s better than the alternative... .”

I looked up sharply at his ominous tone. “What alternative?”

“Stealing.”

“From the Yew Land?” I certainly didn’t endorse theft but was surprised Roland would care one way or another about gentry stealing from each other.

“No,” he said. “From humans. There are gentry who have been raiding our world for food and supplies.”

I gaped, unable to immediately form a response. I knew better than to say “that’s impossible” again, but it was still hard to believe. “If there were elementals going on food rampages, I think I would’ve heard about that. They’re not exactly subtle, and there are only a handful of gentry who can cross over in true form.” Dorian was one, but I knew with absolute confidence he’d never lower himself to that.

“A handful is all it takes,” said Roland. “And those are exactly the ones doing this—not the elementals. One of them’s that boy ... the one I saw that day in the Rowan Land, whose sister had been attacked? You know him, right?”