THE CIRCLE OF water felt icy in Ji’s palm.
A shock of frostbite ran up his arm and into his chest. When the numbness reached his head, the world turned bright and still, like sunlight shining on snow. He couldn’t see, he couldn’t move. Nothing remained but the crackle of ice in his ears.
Ji felt the tree around him, he felt the tree inside him. His watery roots plunged into the earth, flowing through the mountain and across the entire valley.
Feeding the crops, filling the wells.
Protecting the realm.
Defending humanity against the hordes. Against the creatures, the beasts. Against the twisted nonhuman monsters that threatened everything.
And with a frozen clarity, Ji knew that he needed to seize the power of the tree. The queen had created the tree not just with her magic, but with her goals and needs and vows. And with those of every king and queen who came before her. That was what Ji felt now, the urgent commands of every royal who’d ever ruled.
He needed to accept the diadem. He needed to wear the crown and destroy the enemies of humankind. Every last one, until no ogre lurked in the mountains and no goblin dug in the earth. Until no mermaid swam, no sprite flew, and no troll bellowed.
He’d pay any price to defend his fellow humans. Like Mr. Ioso said, the cost of freedom was high—but that didn’t matter. Ji needed to protect his realm. He’d rule the humans wisely, safely, powerfully. He’d never bow again, he’d never serve again.
Instead, they’d serve him.
And in return, he’d do anything to protect them. He’d do everything to protect them. He’d enslave the goblins and wipe out the ogres, he’d weave children into tapestry looms and—
“No!” Ji shouted into the silence. “I won’t!”
The snowy brightness turned clear as a mirror, and the queen’s face appeared in his mind. Larger than life and more commanding.
“Thou must wear the diadem,” she said, her voice echoing in the snowy white blankness. “Inherit the throne, and protect the people.”
“I’m not—” He swallowed. “I’m just a boot boy.”
“Wear the crown, and become a king.”
“I can’t,” he said, in a small voice.
“A mighty and unyielding monarch,” the queen continued. “An unconquerable shield against the monsters.”
Ji’s heart thrilled at her words. He longed to take the crown, to wield the power, to prove that he mattered. But he made himself say, “I can’t. I won’t. I won’t kill them. I won’t enslave them.”
“Selfish child! Thinking only of thyself.” The queen’s eyes darkened and her voice boomed in his mind. “The people need protection.”
“Is there anything you wouldn’t do, to protect them?”
“Nay,” the queen said. “Nothing.”
“If there’s nothing you won’t do,” Ji asked, “then what are you?”
“A monarch.”
“A monster,” he said. “Worse than any ogre, worse than any—”
“Thou must rule! Wear the diadem, and complete the rite!”
“Never,” Ji said, and the queen’s face vanished.
His senses returned in a jagged burst: the water tree swayed, the lords and ladies gasped, and the diadem burned his fingers. Agony throbbed down his arm. When he tried to hurl the circle of water away, it stuck to him. He screamed and shook his hand until the diadem tore a strip of skin off his palm and sailed between the branches of the tree.
And through teary eyes, he watched Brace snatch it from the air.
“Brace, don’t!” Ji sobbed. “You don’t know what it’ll do to you!”
Brace lifted the diadem in triumph. “I told you it burned commoners.”
Then he jammed it onto his head. The water flowed through his hair onto his skull, like the diadem was bonding to him, and in two heartbeats he seemed more real, more present, more powerful and—
The tree heaved.
Ji watched in horror as a branch stabbed Sally in the heart. Three more branches thrust toward Roz and Chibo and Nin. He opened his mouth to scream, but the tree speared his own chest. He didn’t feel pain, he didn’t feel cold. He didn’t feel anything as the world turned black.