“Glaciers!” I pulled him into the chair next to me. “You still have the Medallion?”
“Yes?” His brow furrowed, and he glanced at the king and Enzo.
I tapped my hand on the table. “Before Brownlok attacked, I found a book. It talked about the Black Library.” I glanced at Ren. “The mages’ library.”
Marko stood so fast his chair almost toppled over. He didn’t speak, just gripped the back of the chair, his knuckles white.
“Enzo and I found out there really is a key, like the note I found in the fireplace said. But that there are two parts—one in Hálendi, one in Turia. I think…I think the Medallion of Sight is Hálendi’s part of the key. I thought the mages got it when they killed you.”
Marko cursed under his breath. “Did the book show what the key looked like?”
I pulled Ren’s book from my pocket. The cover cracked as I opened it.
“Is that—” Ren started.
I nodded and unfolded the page I’d cut from the book in the library. Enzo came around the side of my chair to see it closer, and Ren and Marko leaned in. “I assume it would fit around the Medallion—”
Marko cursed again and strode out of the room. We all looked at each other, then scrambled after him. I jammed the page back into Ren’s book and tucked it in my pocket as we went, Yesilia’s cane tucked under my arm.
“Father?” Enzo called down the hallway.
“In here!” Marko called from the open door of his study. He ripped the tapestry from the wall behind his desk as we piled in. A tiny box was embedded in the stone wall. The box was open.
Marko wrenched it open the rest of the way and stuck his hand in, drawing out some papers, a few jewels, and dumping them on his desk. He reached in again, jamming his fingers into the back, but they came away empty.
He fell into his chair. “He found it.”
“Found what?” Enzo asked.
“I didn’t know it was the key,” Marko touched his forehead and closed his eyes. “My grandfather only told me to keep it secret. It was Turia’s to protect, and I failed.”
Ren leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. “I think I missed something.”
Marko heaved a sigh. “When your people first came from the Continent, King Kais and Turia’s queen, Oriana, chose the location to exile all of the mages’ learning into, per Gero’s command. They created keys, one-half given to each kingdom to guard, so that no one kingdom would ever be able to find it on their own.” He gathered the other items and returned them to the box in the wall. “My grandfather told me all of this, and told me to keep the artifact safe, but I didn’t know they were connected. Didn’t know it was a key.”
My hand clenched around the smooth top of my cane. “So now Brownlok has Turia’s key.”
Ren lifted the Medallion out from under his tunic. “But we still have the Medallion.”
The king unrolled a map onto his desk. “I know that a map exists, but I don’t know where it is. It’s not in our library,” he added when my jaw dropped. “My grandfather told me the mages’ library was somewhere in the Wastelands, but there’s no path through, no way to find it without all the keys.”
Enzo’s hand rested on my shoulder, squeezing gently. “We could try, though, right? We have an idea where it is, and a key. We can’t let the mages find it first.”
Ren’s heel bounced against the floor. “My father told me he’d heard an account of a woman who’d traveled in the Wastelands. She’d said it was a barren land that stretched as far as the eye could see, with red sand monsters and no water. If we don’t have a map—”
“It doesn’t matter if we have the map,” I said, and they all turned to me. “We don’t have the rest of the key. But the mages don’t, either. We need to stop the war first, repair the divide between our people. If we don’t fight the mages together, if they find the Black Library first, we’ll never survive.”
Marko sat back. “You’re right. We can figure out this Black Library business after.” His fingers formed a steeple under his chin. “It’s getting late, but I assume you’ll want to start for the front lines as soon as possible?” he asked Ren.
My brother sighed and nodded, no trace of his usual carefree exuberance. He’d never looked so tired.
“First, you need to bathe and change,” I told him. “Then we’re both going to the front lines.”
“Jenna,” Ren started, “I can go alone. I—”
“No. There are mages trying to kill us. And Graymere would just as soon kill you as me. I’ve fought his shade mages. I know how to use the artifacts father gave me to protect us. Graymere is going to try to kill me no matter where I am or where I go. There’s no guarantee I’ll be safe if I stay in the palace, especially since Brownlok destroyed the front of it. I can’t hide forever, and I’m done running.”
“Jenna, you can’t be seriously considering this.” Enzo kept his voice low. “Your leg—”
“If he’s coming after me, I won’t draw him to the palace or to your family.” I tapped my cane against the floor and spoke carefully. “We need to stop the war. I’m living proof the Turians didn’t attack us. People are dying needlessly.”
Enzo began pacing. My brother rubbed the Medallion.
“I’m not sure you should go in person,” King Marko finally said. “Not both of you, at any rate. Something feels off about this.”
An icicle of fear inched down my spine at the thought of leaving the safety and comfort of the palace. But Aleinn had stared death in the eye. She knew what she was doing and why. The mages might find us on our way, but if I had a chance now to end the war, then I needed to take it.
“I am going. If we go together, they’ll have no choice but to stop fighting immediately.”
My brother rubbed the Medallion again, brows furrowed. “I agree with Jenna.”
“I am coming, too,” Enzo spoke up from beside me. King Marko’s eyes darted to his son, but Enzo continued, deflecting the refusal he saw coming. “As the Turian heir, I can help present a united front. I can authorize an immediate truce.”
My leg ached from sitting so long, from the tension inside me. I wanted Enzo to come—I remembered how seamlessly we’d fought against the shade mages in the meadow—but if anything happened to him…
“The moon is full tonight. If you leave after dinner, you can still make good progress.” King Marko stood, the hollows under his eyes more pronounced than when the day started. “I’ll send word to prepare the horses.”
* * *
Ren left with Marko to find some extra clothes, and supplies for the journey. Enzo and I walked slowly down the hall, the thump of my cane reverberating along with the echoes of the pounding hammers at the front of the palace.
Enzo hadn’t said anything since we’d left his father’s office. He ambled silently with his hands in his pockets, staring at the floor. I cleared my throat. “How long will repairs take?”
He stopped, his boots squeaking against the tile. I faced him, leaning on my cane. He took my arm, glanced up and down the hall, and tugged me through the closest open door.
“How many sitting rooms do you—”
My breath caught as he pulled me to him, closing the distance between us. He wrapped one arm around my back when I stumbled, and dug his other hand into my hair. Then his lips were on mine, kissing me like he hadn’t seen me in months. He tasted like a fresh apple, still warm from the tree.
My cane dropped to the ground, and I wrapped my arms around his neck, tilting my head to get closer, closer. All sense of anything but Enzo faded away—his hands, his arms, his body against mine. He ignited a fire within me that I had never felt before. I reached my hands into his hair—his beautiful dark, curly hair—and the fire inside only grew hotter.
I don’t know how long we had been kissing when I pulled away from him, afraid I would
either melt or turn to ash. I kept my arm looped around his neck to keep him close, and he rested his forehead on mine.
“Hi,” he whispered.
I chuckled. “Hi.” I brushed my thumb along the purple shadows under his eyes. “Have you even slept since retaking the palace?”
He leaned into my hand. “The thought of the mages coming after you again is pulling at the edges of my sanity.” His chest rose and fell against mine. “We lost servants and soldiers. My sisters were almost captured. You almost died, too, Jenna. And now—” He swallowed.
He was afraid. Not of being with me, but of losing me. His bottomless green eyes revealed his worry, fatigue, and sorrow, but buried deep beneath those, I found what I was looking for. I eased his face closer to mine, and whispered the words he had once whispered to me in a white tent as I faded away.
“I am here, Enzo. And I won’t give up.”
He leaned into my palm. “I still want to give us a try, if you’re willing.” He played with a lock of my hair, then tucked it behind my ear. “We are technically still betrothed.”
“I’d like that,” I whispered, and brushed a brief kiss against his lips. He pressed forward as I pulled away, prolonging the kiss into something soft and slow that sent a shiver of delight from my toes up to my scalp.
“Cavolo,” I muttered. “You’re good at that.”
He pulled me back to him, a dangerous glint in his eye. “I like it when you curse in Turian.”
Footsteps sounded in the hall, and he groaned. I pushed him away and laughed. “You need to get ready to go, and so do I.”
His gaze darkened and his smile faded, but he kissed my cheek and scooped up my cane. Patting down his hair, he strode out into the hall. I stared after him, the white-hot frost of dread edging the hope blooming inside me. We had to find a way to beat the mages. We had to.
* * *
Chiara’s door loomed in the darkening hallway. I couldn’t leave without explaining why I hadn’t told her my identity. The look she’d sent me after Ren arrived had festered in the back of my mind all day. I’d talk to Chiara, then I’d find Mari.
My knock echoed. Most everyone was eating dinner or preparing things for our journey. I’d tucked everything from Irena’s bag onto the shelf in my little room, along with Ren’s book with the now-useless illustration—then thrown an extra uniform to take with me in the bag.
I tapped my cane against the tile. Would Chiara answer?
Mari cracked the door, then threw it open with a smile. “Leinn! Or”—her brow furrowed—“Jenna?”
Chiara watched me warily from the settee. I sent her a strained smile. “Can I come in? I’d like to explain.”
Mari waved me in and shut the door, pulling me to sit.
“Why did Atháren call you Jenna earlier today?” Chiara asked. “And in the tent, I thought I overheard Enzo say…Are you really—” She cut off with a glance at Mari.
I wrung my hands together in my lap. “I am.”
Chiara’s brows shot up, but Mari tilted her head. “You’re what?”
A smile twisted my lips at her innocence. “My name is actually Jennesara.”
“Then who’s Aleinn?” Mari asked.
I rubbed the leg of my trousers and focused on Mari so I wouldn’t have to see Chiara’s reaction. Would she forgive me?
“Aleinn was my lady’s maid, my friend,” I told Mari. “She saved my life in the Wild.” I looked to her sister. “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you who I was.”
Chiara’s foot tapped against the floor. “And Atháren is your brother, not your—?” She broke off with another glance at Mari.
I tipped my head back and laughed when I caught her meaning. “Yes. My brother.”
“Wait.” Mari said with a serious expression. “That means you and Enzo…”
Heat rushed into my cheeks. “Yes?” It was an admission and a request for permission.
She tugged a tight curl bouncing by her cheek. “This is…perfect!” she squealed, and jumped on me with her arms tight around my neck.
I wrapped my arms around her and hugged her close. Chiara laughed and joined the hug.
She pulled away first. “So have you kissed yet?”
A blush raged on my fair skin. Both sisters squealed.
“It wasn’t—”
A jolt of overwhelming panic stole my breath. The edges of my vision sparked, and a deep echo of dread ran through me. The mysterious tether inside me hummed with something dark and evil. There was no shock wave or eerie silence, but I knew, just as I had known in the dungeon: he was here.
I scrambled off the settee, pulling the sisters with me. My cane bounced against the tile.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” Mari asked.
“You’ve got to get out of the palace! He’s coming—Graymere is here!”
I drew my sword, and they scrambled after me as I raced into the hall. An explosion somewhere downstairs shook the walls. A framed mirror smashed to the ground, shards scattering everywhere. I skidded to a stop. A beat of silence passed before the chaos started.
The few servants in the family wing burst into the halls, along with guards and attendants, some running toward the explosion, some away. One young maid stopped and looked at the princesses behind me, seeking guidance or reassurance, I didn’t know.
“Go!” I yelled at her, at all of them. “Get out!”
I closed my eyes, focusing on the tethers. Ren’s was mostly broken still, but I was looking for the tether that somehow connected me to the evil hunting me.
I found it. And I remembered that Graymere was technically my cousin. My family.
I’d somehow developed a tether with him.
Another group of servants from the upper floors sprinted past us. The walls shook again, an aftershock or maybe more destruction.
I looked to the left, where I knew Graymere would soon appear, and turned right, pushing Mari and Chiara in front of me. The shaking had stopped. Distant yelling started.
“Get to Enzo and find Ren! Tell them Graymere is here,” I yelled as we ran.
I glanced down the now-empty hallway as we turned the corner. Chiara screamed just ahead, but the sound was cut short. I slid to a halt and, sword ready, pushed Mari against the wall. Koranth had Chiara locked in his grip, one hand around her waist and one covering her mouth. Behind him, servants crowded past, trying to get down the narrow stairway.
Mari kept her back pressed against the wall, but reached down and pulled my knife from her boot—the dagger I’d given Chiara before we’d escaped through the dungeon. It shook in her hand as she pointed it at Koranth.
“Well, well,” Koranth sneered. “If it isn’t the troublesome trio.”
“How did you get in?” He was supposed to be on his way to Riiga. His sword wasn’t drawn, but I couldn’t attack him without endangering Chiara. I willed Mari to stay against the wall, to not do anything rash with that knife.
“You of all people should know how fast word travels among servants, Jennesara. Especially word of your miraculous escape.”
The spark of anger in Chiara’s eyes was the only warning before she lunged to the side, slipped her leg behind Koranth’s, reached under his legs, and tossed him. His robes billowed around him, and he landed hard on his stomach. She stood stunned at what she’d done.
I pushed Mari at her. “Run!” I yelled.
They skirted the clogged stairs and raced around another corner. Koranth pulled himself to his feet, but didn’t follow them. And he still hadn’t drawn his sword. I lunged at him, but he brought both hands up. I lifted my ring hand by pure instinct and staggered under the force of the magic Koranth sent at me.
I stepped back, as shocked that he had used magic as he was that I hadn’t been affected by it. He raised his hands again, but a spear of pain pierced my leg and I fell a
gainst the wall.
The voice from my nightmares spoke behind me.
“Find the others. This one is mine.”
Koranth glared at me, then chased after the princesses.
The Gray Mage stood alone in the hall, his black eyes pulling in the light from the sconces.
A sword was sheathed at his side.
“Princess.” His voice wafted above the chaos around me and left a metallic taste in my mouth. “We are fortunate to meet a second time.”
I pushed away the memory of him slashing Aleinn’s throat. A wisp of darkness unfurled within me. This time, I embraced it. “We won’t meet again, Graymere.”
He raised his hands, and I lifted mine as well. An explosion of magic blasted into me, pushing me back a step, but the magic caught in my ring, turning it hot against my skin.
When his attack didn’t work, his gaze narrowed on my hand. He snarled and, stalking toward me, drew a long silver sword from his scabbard.
My breath caught in my throat. Had he found Moraga?
But Turia’s seal was branded on the pommel at the base of the hilt, and I exhaled. It must have belonged to a palace guard. And behind that sword’s scabbard was another. Still empty.
“I have been waiting for centuries to be summoned from the Ice Deserts and regain my power.” He raised his blade, his black eyes bottomless and his cloak billowing in the dead air. “You will not stand in my way.”
Shouting started behind me, from the hall Chiara and Mari had escaped down. Had they—
The tether connecting me to the mage pulsed with pain, anger, darkness. I stepped away from the wall and faced him. I didn’t know if the sword my father had given me would be enough to defeat him, but I would try.
“Ren, she’s here!”
I heard Enzo’s shout, but I couldn’t turn to him, couldn’t warn him to run. The ring of metal on metal started behind me—Graymere must have brought company. Palace guards streamed up the stairs, pushing the servants out of the way in their rush to meet the mage’s men.
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