“This is either going to be the greatest venture I’ve undertaken,” Prince Garrett said, “or we’re all going to die horribly.”

 

Demetri said, “The former, I hope,” as his eyes rose to the castle before them. A splintering wooden gate and a grimy stone wall were all that separated them from the castle. The wall was still standing despite the heavy vines creeping over it. Before he could think twice, Demetri reached out and gave the ramshackle gate a solid push.

 

It swung open, squealing on rusty hinges. The cr-e-e-ak of it echoed down into Demetri’s soul.

 

“Doors unbarred,” murmured Garrett. “And no guards.”

 

No guards. No people at all, that they had seen. Demetri stared up at the forbidding ruin of a castle. It had once been a shining beacon, the walls so white the sun gleamed off them. Now, the walls had gone gray. Dark moss clung to the fortress, draping itself over the rooftops and slithering down the high towers.

 

A fearful tension built in Demetri’s shoulders. It didn’t look like anyone had lived in this castle for many years. In the face of that stark truth, Demetri hoped one of the stories they’d heard about this place was true—that there had been some snowstorm, or some sickness or attack that had driven everyone out. Something normal to explain what had happened. Because if what truly happened here had anything to do with Briar’s curse, then they were walking into something most unpleasant.

 

“It doesn’t look much like the place you described.” Garrett peered at the gate before them, now slightly ajar. His eyes lingered over the damp rot eating at the wood.

 

Demetri managed an edgy smile, though it felt weird on his face. At odds with the clamminess seeping into him. “Eighty-two years will do that, I suppose.”

​

Garrett chuckled. Even their quiet exchange seemed too loud in this eerie place, where silence stretched before them as in a graveyard.

 

One of the soldiers, a young man named Spencer, grimaced. “This place is cursed.” He was rail thin, with skin as black as the night sky. There were five soldiers, all Prince Garrett’s. Forty had come on this venture, but most of them waited below in the lower mountains. Garrett had decided five men should be sufficient to accompany them into the castle.

 

Standing before these sinister walls, Demetri had begun to question that decision.

 

“This place isn’t cursed,” Prince Garrett said affably, resting a hand on his holstered pistol. “Just because it’s an old, dark, abandoned ruin doesn’t mean it’s cursed. Only the princess inside is cursed.” He cast Demetri a sidelong glance and murmured, “So far as we know, yes?”

​

Demetri shrugged.

​

“And you don’t remember anything?” Garrett prodded. “Anything to suggest what might have happened here? After your princess fell to her curse, I mean.”

​

Demetri shook his head. “The last thing I remember is—” The words stuck in his throat. “Briar. Falling at my feet.” Falling to the dark fairy’s curse. “Beyond that, I’ve no idea. The only other thing I remember is …” The darkness. The solitude. Being abducted from the castle by a small, hooded figure. Being held captive by parties unknown, in a place unknown. Frozen by some spell that kept him from aging, but also kept him conscious. Worse than the darkness though, worse than the solitude, was the slow, crushing realization that he was helpless, helpless to aid Briar and with no one to help him—

​

He clenched his jaw.

​

Garrett did not press him. Though the two had only been friends for about a month, Garrett, Demetri had observed, had a knack for reading people.

​

“Well.” Garrett gestured at the gate. “I suppose the only way to find answers is to go looking for them. It’s why we came, isn’t it?”

​

Briar, Demetri thought. Briar was why they’d come. And wary as he was, Demetri wasn’t about to leave her moldering in this horrid place a second longer than they had to.

​

Pushing the gate open wider, Demetri stepped through it and beneath the archway that led into the guardhouse. The way was thrown in darkness, and the heavy smell of mildew hung in the air, grown from the damp layered over stone and wood. It was a wrong smell—not just foul, but wrong, the kind of smell that said Stop now, go back—

​

Demetri let out a low, uneven breath. He held his lantern aloft. But the gears spinning beneath the lantern’s bulb only mustered a light bright enough to show a few feet in front of him. Beyond that, shadows flickered over the walls like capering creatures in the dark.

​

The fear curling in Demetri’s gut wound itself into a tight, knotted web. It sat inside him like a stone, rooting him to the ground. It was a few seconds before he managed to step forward into the shadowy passage. He stretched a hand out to keep from running into anything.

​

Unfortunately, it wasn’t his hand that hit something in the darkness. It was his foot.

 

Demetri cringed as he tread upon something that gave a sharp crunch. The dread inside him leapt into his throat.

 

“Demetri?” Garrett called softly. “What was that?”

​

Demetri’s pulse stuttered. He dropped his gaze.

​

A person sat crumpled at his feet.

​

Demetri jumped back with a yelp and jumped again when Spencer let out a startled oath beside him. They all goggled at the man slumped against the wall.

 

“What the…?” Garrett said.

 

“It’s a—a person,” said Spencer.

 

“It’s a body,” said another soldier. “A corpse.”

 

He was right, of course. “A corpse indeed.” Demetri’s voice was shakier than he liked, his heart thumping erratically. “One long dead at that. Well, that’s a good sign. A great start to this venture. A ruined castle, a long-dead corpse—”

​

Garrett grinned. “There’s your sense of adventure.”

 

“It’s not all that long-dead, though,” Spencer noted, “is it?”

 

Clenching his jaw, Demetri looked down at the body. He understood what Spencer meant. The corpse’s flesh was mottled in pale greens and inky blues and looked as though it could melt off at the lightest touch. In some places, the flesh was gone, leaving bare bone in its wake. Oddly enough, the corpse still had its eyes, the loosely-shut lids translucent.

 

“A guard, once,” Demetri said. His breathing began to even out as he noted the faded, course wool clinging to the body, remnants of the dead man's black uniform. He could just make out flecks of the golden crest on the coat, the crest of the Mountain Kingdom. “Or someone dressed like a guard.”

 

“It’s weird, isn’t it,” Garrett murmured. “How he’s sitting like that. Like he just sat down and died.”

 

Demetri tried to shrug off the cold that had come over him. “Come on.” He stepped past the corpse. “We don’t know what killed him. It might have been some sickness.”

 

“Or it might have been something else,” Garrett added with thinly veiled excitement. “Everyone keep a sharp eye out.”

 

Demetri shook his head, though he smiled a little. Garrett was a strange young man; he seemed to welcome danger. He had been eager to accompany Demetri on this quest to the long-forgotten Mountain Kingdom, not only out of friendship, but out of genuine enthusiasm. Apparently, the prince was a bit of a daredevil; he chased monster stories the way other noblemen hunted stags. Well, everyone needed a hobby, Demetri supposed.

 

As they crept through the guardhouse, Demetri ran a nervous hand down the scabbard of his rapier, his fingers bumping along the gilded silver. He was the only one here to bear a blade; Garrett and his soldiers carried firearms, pistols mostly. Pistols had been around in Demetri’s day, but not the kind they carried now—these were new models called “revolvers.” Garrett carried an even newer invention slung over his shoulder, a rifle called a “repeater.” Demetri didn’t know much about it, except that it was powered by gear work, like their lanterns. He hadn’t seen Garrett use it yet and hoped he never would—at least, not until they were out of the castle with Briar.

 

Briar. Demetri swallowed, trying not to think of her. Which was futile, since he hadn’t stopped thinking about her once in the last eighty-two years.

 

They passed through the guardhouse and into the courtyard, where gnarled, black roots grew in clumps over the flagstones. The walls of the castle rose up on either side, closing them in. Dark curtains of moss hung from the ramparts, and knotted ropes of it wound around pillars. The eerie quiet seemed even more pronounced here, so quiet that Demetri’s breath felt loud in his ears.

 

Then there were the bodies.

 

“Stars and stones,” Spencer swore. “There are more of them.”

 

There were indeed. Pale corpses, strewn among the courtyard as though they had been posed, grotesque dolls arranged for child's play. There were about a dozen of them. Some lay sprawled on the ground, roots creeping over their rotted flesh. Others were slumped over in seated positions. Two corpses sat together, huddled in a corner—a couple maybe, for one wore the tattered remains of a ruby red dress, the silk thread woven among the slime-like flesh beneath it. Demetri even saw one corpse on its feet, leaning upright against a stone pillar.

 

“By the gift,” Jones whispered. She was one of the youngest soldiers in Garrett’s company, a year younger than Demetri—or at least, a year younger than the seventeen years he looked to be. “What happened to them?”

 

Spencer shrugged. “They died.”

 

“But…how?”

 

“I suppose they are dead,” Demetri said, “aren’t they?”

 

He and Prince Garrett exchanged a quick look. Demetri knew he sounded ridiculous—of course these people were dead. They were decaying. But the way they were, some sitting, that one standing…

 

A chilling howl bayed into the quiet. Demetri jerked around, his chest tightening. But it was only a burst of wind, funneling into the courtyard from behind the castle.

 

He shook himself. “Never mind. We just need to get to Briar. Let’s just…stay away from the bodies.”

 

“Sounds good to me, Highness,” Jones agreed.

 

As they picked their way towards the front steps, Garrett said, “Have you any idea why there would be so many dead here? I mean, by the look of them I’d say they haven’t been here for the last eighty years. They’d be only dust and bones by now.”

 

Demetri shook his head. “I don’t know. I was taken almost as soon as Briar fell to her curse. For all I know, the people here continued to live their lives. For a bit, anyway.” He glanced at one of the bodies and shuddered. “Clearly not anymore.”

 

“All the stories suggest otherwise,” Garrett murmured, “but those same stories don’t say much either, so. Who knows if there’s any truth to them.”

 

All the stories. Garrett was not referring to the tales they’d heard on their way here. Those had been plausible stories, rumors the locals had come up with to explain why the castle was deserted. A great storm, a great sickness.

 

No, Garrett was referring to the stories—the reason he, mad adventurer that he was, had never been here before, even though it was the sort of place a person like Garrett would have fancied for a summer holiday. Evidently, after Briar fell to her curse—after Demetri himself was taken—all sorts of mad rumors came out of the kingdom. Rumors that said the whole kingdom was cursed, rumors that said fairies had claimed the land for themselves. Rumors terrible enough that Demetri’s own parents, the king and queen of the Glen Kingdom, had ordered their northern borders closed and declared no one was to travel into the Mountain Kingdom.

An edict that had still stood, all these years later. Until now.

 

“And this fairy,” said Garrett, “the one that freed you—”

 

“I think it was a fairy.” Demetri had not gotten a good look at the creature. All he remembered was a blue nimbus gleaming from a hooded cloak.

 

“Well, whoever—isn’t it odd he didn’t mention the place was littered with corpses?”

​

“Maybe he didn’t know. He only told me where to find Briar.”

​

“Though not how to wake her,” Garrett said.

 

Demetri averted his eyes as he passed near a corpse. “He said it would come to me. Whatever that means.”

 

“Whatever that means,” Garrett repeated. There was something strange in his voice, but when Demetri looked at him, the prince's gaze was on the castle doors ahead. Garrett was a comforting, steady presence in such a frightening place. He never panicked, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t watchful. Looking at him now, Demetri could see the vigilance in his gaze as they stepped into the grand entrance hall.

​

Or at least, it had once been grand. Demetri remembered the warmth of the entry, and the light. The hall had glowed with it, sparkling off the crystal chandelier, burning in sconces in every corner. He remembered the scarlet rug that covered the floor, a plushy wool that was a blessing beneath weary feet. He remembered the tall, oak doors, polished until they shone, standing open in invitation at the back of the hall.

 

Now, the chandelier lay in shards over the rug, which was no longer scarlet but soiled a mucky brown. Cobwebs stretched across the bare sconces, and the doors were shut tight, their exteriors peeling like an apple skin.

 

Demetri took it all in, and for the first time, something flickered past his fear—an unbearable wave of nostalgia. This castle had never been his home, but he had lived the best six months of his life here. With Briar.

 

It felt like another life. As though that time didn’t belong to him, but to someone else.

​

“Bloody—!” Demetri heard shuffling boots and the click of a trigger being cocked. He spun around, half-afraid of what he would see. But it was only Spencer, who had ventured so far back into the hall, he had nearly disappeared into the shadows.

 

“What is it?” Garrett asked.

 

Ashen-faced, Spencer moved towards them, a pistol in hand. “I…” He licked his lips. “I thought I saw—something moved. Back there.” He pointed towards the back of the hall.

 

Garrett peered into the dark. “Back where?”

 

Demetri lifted his lantern, his eyes darting along the back wall. The dim light cut jagged swathes through the shadows—but he saw nothing.

​

He frowned. “What was it?”

 

“I’m not sure.” Spencer's eyes were wild. “Something moved.”

 

“A person?” Garrett demanded.

 

“Maybe.” Spencer darted a glance down the corridor.

 

“Could it have been an animal?” Demetri asked. That made sense. Or, well, sort of. All the people they’d seen were dead. Was it possible someone was alive here?

 

Besides Briar, obviously. The thought of her somewhere in this castle tugged at him unpleasantly, and in that moment, the desire to find her rose in him like a storm. To find her, to see her again…

 

He tamped that desire down. There was no telling what stood between them and her in this dreadful place. No guarantee that he would see her again. He needed to stay focused.

 

“Could’ve been an animal,” Spencer muttered. “But…I think it was—a person.”

 

Garrett flashed a jaunty grin. “No worries. If there’s anything here, we’ll handle it. What could be worse than that beast we hunted in the Black Forest last year?”

 

“I don’t know, sire,” Spencer said dryly. “Since we never actually caught it.”

 

“Details,” Garrett said breezily.

 

Demetri wandered over to the winding steps on the left. The creature who’d freed him had said Briar was in the tallest tower. Demetri had gone over it in his head, trying to remember the castle’s layout. If they took this stairwell up, he was fairly certain they could—

 

He stopped dead.

 

A figure lay crumpled at the base of the steps.

 

Demetri’s heartbeat skittered. Fear grasped at the back of his neck like a claw.

 

It was another corpse, curled up on the first step. Like a child tucked away for a nap. Though it was not the body of a child, but of a man. A servant, Demetri thought, as he raised his lantern, casting light over the body. The threadbare jacket draped over its emaciated frame bore the gold crest of the Mountain Kingdom, but it was cut differently than a guard's coat. Yellowed bone peeked through the doughy flesh on its knuckles. Demetri shuddered, his gaze lingering on the corpse's cheek, where bone jutted out like the point of a knife.

 

He was so fixated by the gruesome sight that he didn’t notice when the corpse opened its eyes.

 

Then he did notice. His heart faltered. He forgot to breathe. Demetri stared at the corpse, and it stared at him.

 

Then it lunged for his throat.