I pictured the clearest version of her I could glean from the memory in Rowan’s head back when we had smoked with Reigina Mathilde. “Crimson Queen?” I spoke into the radio. “I’m sorry I don’t know your actual name.”
“Is young Lily Whitrose speaking to me in my thoughts?” Even through the static, her voice was clear and soothing - perfectly balanced between ‘cartoon princess’ and 'fairy godmother.’
My hair stood. I knew I couldn’t be talking to the dead, because if I could do that I would’ve been able to talk to my mom.
I had many questions, but the first I asked was, “You know my name?”
“I do.”
“How? Wait, no, where are you?”
“Oh, this is all very strange and suddenly very normal,” she mused. “We’re back at the Ivory Kingdom.”
My mouth fell open. “You ‘and’ the…Mr. Rowan’s dad?” I didn’t know what to call him in the instance of there being two Crimson Kings, but saying this aloud felt juvenile and I immediately wished to undo it.