"I read the journal," she continued, and her voice steadied into something honest and terrible. "I read the names out loud like a ritual. At first, the names were neighbors I'd never met. Then the list had my schoolteacher. Then—" She swallowed. The gallery shifted as if inhaling. "Then, my brother's name."
"You named him," the throne said. "Naming has power. The court requires payment."
She thought of the promise she had not kept. horrorroyaletenokerar better
"A memory," the throne said. "A single perfect memory. Choose any you wish, and it will be unmade from your soul."
"Promise," she said.
"What is my payment?" Mara asked, though she already knew. In the mirror of the throne, reflections braided: her brother's face, the pocket watch, a child with a paper crown.
A bell, tiny as a grain, dropped somewhere in the theater. The court murmured and nodded. The raven-masked usher reached for the crown-shaped hourglass on the arm of the throne. Its sand glittered like ground bone and moved too slowly for time. "I read the journal," she continued, and her
"What did the court take?" the throne asked again.