Tower of Dawn
Page 171

 
Until blinding light flooded the slumbering, warm dark. Until the wind swept in, crisp and scented with rain.
She could not feel it on her face. Not with the death-mask still chained to it.
Her eyes cracked open. The light burned away all shape and color after so long in the dim depths.
But a face appeared before her—above her. Peering over the lid that had been hauled aside.
Dark, flowing hair. Moon-pale skin. Lips as red as blood.
The ancient queen’s mouth parted in a smile.
Teeth as white as bone.
“You’re awake. Good.”
Lovely and cold, it was a voice that could devour the stars.
From somewhere, from the blinding light, rough and scar-flecked hands reached into the coffin. Grasped the chains binding her. The queen’s huntsman; the queen’s blade.
He hauled the princess upright, her body a distant, aching thing. She did not want to slide back into this body. Struggled against it, clawing for the flame and the darkness that now ebbed away from her like a morning tide.
But the huntsman yanked her closer to that cruel, beautiful face watching with a spider’s smile.
And he held her still as that ancient queen purred, “Let’s begin.”