“Are there any apple tarts?” I asked Mari, craning my neck as I searched the table. She shook her head, cheeks full. Of course my favorites wouldn’t be here. I tugged on one of her curls and reached for a crystal glass of lemon water. “Don’t choke on all that, or Mother won’t let you come again.”
Mari swallowed everything in one great gulp, and grinned up at me. “I’m glad I get to eat without hiding under the table now. The food on the edge is never as delicious as the food in the middle.”
I choked on my drink. “That’s how you swiped food? You hid under the table?”
Mari shrugged. “No one checks once the cloths are in place.”
We both stared at the gold cloth that draped to the floor. I reached out with the toe of my slipper and lifted the cloth’s edge. Both Mari and I peered beneath the table, then looked at each other and giggled when we saw there was nothing there.
A heavy arm draped over my shoulder, and another went over Mari’s. Mari elbowed whoever was behind us straight off, and a grunt sounded as he retreated from her blow and hid behind me. His warm hands rested on my shoulders. Not heavy, not holding tight.
“Save me from your sister, Chiara!” said a deep, laughing voice I hadn’t expected to hear again until spring.
I spun, trying to keep my jaw from dropping. “Atháren?” My skin went hot, from my neck all the way to the roots of my hair. I curtsied deep enough for a sovereign, grateful I didn’t show the blush like Hálendians. “I mean, Your Majesty.”
I hadn’t bungled a title in years. Ren was definitely too handsome. The kind of handsome you had to prepare yourself at least a day in advance to resist.
Ren’s mouth tilted up in a delicious grin, and he shrugged, his golden hair glowing in the setting sun. “I haven’t been away long enough for you to forget my name, have I? Call me Ren. We’re practically family, after all.”
The air left my lungs like I’d been punched right in the stomach. Mari launched herself at him with a laugh, and he caught her and swung her around once, her squeals carrying over the conversations around us.
Mud flaked from his boots, and he smelled like the outdoors. Had he been so eager to see his sister that he hadn’t even changed?
Grandmother Yesilia stood behind him with the smile reserved for her grandchildren. She poked them both. “Don’t cause a scene. At least not before I’ve sampled the food.” I raised my eyebrows at her, and she shrugged—she was allowed to shrug, now that she was older than the tutors, she always said. “He wandered into the healing chambers to see where his sister was. I didn’t trust him not to get lost, so I brought him here.”
We all chuckled, but Ren’s eyes scanned over my shoulder, then stopped. If I hadn’t been watching him so closely, I would have missed the change that came over him when he found his sister in the crowd. His shoulders relaxed, his smile went from flattering to natural, and his deep blue eyes lit up. Tiny changes I’d never noticed before, though he stayed only a few weeks after the treaty had been signed.
“All right,” Ren said quietly right next to me. “Let’s see how long before my anonymity is spoiled.” On the dais, Jenna’s brows furrowed, and she tipped her head, though I got the feeling she wasn’t listening to my mother’s latest worries about the wedding feast.
Heads began to turn our way. Jenna whirled around and gasped, and conversations ceased. All eyes turned to Ren, and whispered shock rippled outward.
I could only see his profile, but even with the attention of the entire throne room on him, he smirked. Like it didn’t bother him one bit that everyone stared, many disapprovingly.
Jenna, her face shining with delight, jumped off the dais, dodged the remaining advisors caging her in, and ran into Ren’s arms. She couldn’t see it, but when Ren ducked his head to her shoulder as he hugged her, he squeezed his eyes shut, like this was the first moment he thought he’d survive to see another sunrise.
“What are you doing here?” she said, her voice carrying. Around the siblings, worried looks and hushed plans were already spreading. Speculation as to why the Hálendian king would visit unannounced.
“My sister doesn’t write often enough,” Ren said, lifting his shoulder and speaking to the crowd. “Who could I address this petition to so she actually sends a letter every now and then?” Many laughed, but not enough to ease the coiling tension.
“Come on.” Mari took my hand and our grandmother’s and pulled us toward the gathering in the center of the room, where my mother and Enzo greeted Ren.
“A lack of letters is not enough to warrant a kingly visit,” Jenna said to Ren with a frown. I smoothed the front of my dress as my stomach dropped. She was right.
“Can’t a brother visit his favorite sister?” Ren asked, subtly scanning the crowd. A dark look flickered over his expression before he recovered. He put a hand over his heart, exaggerating the motion. “It’s lonely all the way up in Hálendi.”
If my tutors had ever allowed me to snort, I would have. I very much doubted Ren lacked company of any sort.
My mother started in on new arrangements for meals and schedules. Most of us had stopped listening, gauging by the glazed look in everyone’s eyes. Except Ren’s. His roved over every corner of the room, only pausing for brief moments before continuing on.
“We have guards posted, you know,” I said quietly.
“Guards?” he responded absently.
I lifted a shoulder. “You’re watching the shadows like they might attack.”
He looked at me, then. Really looked. Not flirting; assessing. I’d hit on something. A wriggle of doubt started. He wasn’t here because he missed his sister.
Then his carefree smile was back. “Habit, I guess.”
Lie. I tilted my head, but let the matter drop.
“Your Majesty,” Cynthia’s grating voice cut in. She dipped into a deep curtsy that Ren only caught the last of because he’d been watching me. He couldn’t have missed it when I flinched at the sound of her voice. “Are you traveling to Riiga as well?” She looked up at him through her lashes. “Perhaps we could travel together. Economy, and all that.”
My eyebrows rose—how brazen could she be? Cynthia was a rare beauty in our kingdom, enough so that she’d somehow convinced my father she’d had nothing to do with her family’s betrayal and begged for a chance to redeem herself. But so far, she’d only tried to snatch power and standing by any means possible. I seemed to be the only one who noticed.
Ren pasted on his most flattering smile—the same one he’d used on me. “I do apologize, my lady,” he said with a flourish. “I hadn’t planned on continuing south. However, I’m happy to have at least arrived before your departure.”
I left the conversation despite the years of etiquette I’d mastered. Just turned and walked away, searching for food or air or something to quell the caged feeling tightening inside me. Watching Cynthia flirt with Ren was not something I wanted to witness. Watching him flirt back was worse.
I stumbled into a noblewoman and mumbled an apology, then changed course from the food table. Out. I needed to get away from everyone and everything.
The open doors beckoned me toward the hall, but then Luc was there, appearing as if in a strange dream. He had been in my father’s guard. He should be in Riiga, but he stood in the doorway, boots dirty. Sword at his side. Deep circles under his eyes and scruff shadowing his jaw.
I’d never seen anyone look so grim in my life.
My heart froze in my chest, then took off, trying to escape out of my throat. It wouldn’t slow no matter how many deep breaths I took.
Luc made his way through the crowd, sending me a dark look—even for him. Not many took note of him, just wrinkled their noses at the muddy path he left on the polished floors. He made it all the way to my mother, who followed him through the small door behind the dais with Jenna, Enzo, Yesilia, and Mari tra
iling them.
I couldn’t make my feet move. Did I want to know what news Luc brought?
Then Ren was next to me, taking my elbow and gently leading me through the closest door. I wasn’t sure how I’d known it was him, why I didn’t jump, why his touch didn’t make me nervous. It should have.
“Come on,” he whispered with a resigned sort of dread. What had happened to the carefree boy who’d laughed and joked with us once the treaty was signed? Who’d claimed he traveled for over a week because his sister hadn’t written enough letters. Why was he searching the shadows? Why had he shown up unannounced, and what did that have to do with Luc’s arrival? “We’ll want to hear this, too.”
My head jerked back and forth. I couldn’t hide my shaking hands.
Ren sighed, a bone-weary sound that came from six feet beneath him. “Not hearing it won’t change the news.”
We slipped into the cool air of the hallway. Chills raced up my arms and along my neck.
“Over here,” I said, and led him to the room around the corner that fed onto the dais. The door stood open. We slipped inside and shut it behind us.
Luc stood by the fireplace, poking at the charred wood like it had offended him.
“What is it? What’s happened?” Mother asked from his side. Grandmother Yesilia stood in a corner, a hand to her forehead, eyes closed.
Jenna clung to Enzo’s arm like it would keep her from collapsing. Mari slipped her hand into our mother’s, helping her to a chair when Luc didn’t answer right away. Enzo stood like a pillar—as if he knew his strength would have to hold up the entire room. Perhaps the entire kingdom. I stood utterly still.
Luc swallowed, then swallowed again. “It’s King Marko,” he said, his voice rougher than I’d ever heard. “He…he never arrived in Riiga.”
Koranth
“Get Brownlok in line,” Koranth growled, pacing along the sand. Time slipped away fast now, but they were so close. He dragged his fingers through his hair. Several strands came away. Gray, not brown. The roar of the waves crashing against rocks, and the dark clouds blowing in promised a cold night. But he didn’t feel it. Didn’t feel anything anymore.
Nothing except the pull toward the Black Library and his silver sword.
“Brownlok’s loyalty has been mine all along,” Redalia said, her red hair whipping in the wind as her fingers brushed her lips. “He will follow the plan.”
Koranth caressed the black blade at his side as he nodded. “The pieces are set; the roads are watched. The Black Library will be ours within the month.”
Redalia cleared her throat. Only a slight sound, but Koranth scowled nonetheless. Her cloak whipped against her legs, snapping and pulling. “Brownlok said he searched Turia’s palace from top to bottom. He didn’t find a map, only a key. We need a map. A location. Something.”
Koranth tugged his cloak back over his shoulder where the wind had blown it off. “I’ve done my part. All that’s left is to extract the information from our guest.”
“And if he doesn’t have it?”
Koranth shrugged. “I don’t care how you get it. Just find the map.”
Redalia’s eyes narrowed and it took a moment for her to speak. “I’m a little busy at the moment as you know. I’ll send Brownlok.”
“Get it done,” Koranth growled. “Soon.” He shook off the hair clutched in his fist, and the strands spiraled up into the sky.
Redalia tapped her gold blade once, twice. But she nodded and turned away, disappearing into the night. Koranth sighed and pulled his sword from its sheath, holding it carefully, pressing the flat edge of the black blade against his cheek and inhaling its power. Soon. Soon he’d have the Black Library and its power. And then he’d have his revenge.
Ren
I was too late. Curses circled my mind as Luc’s pronouncement blasted through the room. I couldn’t have failed. Couldn’t be too late. My lungs tightened until I thought my chest would collapse.
A hand wrapped around my forearm, squeezing. My gaze shot to the hand, then to its owner. Chiara. All color had left her cheeks, and I wasn’t sure whether she was holding me up, or whether I was holding her.
“I knew I shouldn’t have allowed him to go,” the queen muttered over and over again from her chair, a small sob breaking from her throat.
Enzo hadn’t moved. “Do we know it wasn’t a detour, or a visit to a nearby village that delayed him?”
Jenna cursed—a word I wasn’t familiar with, though it sounded Turian. “I knew something would go wrong.”
Luc paced in front of the fire. “I followed orders to take four men and ride ahead through Rialzo, at the top of the cliffs, and down into Riiga to assure the king’s path to the palace in Vera was clear. Marko should have followed the next day. He didn’t,” he said to Enzo. “My men and I raced back up the cliff, but couldn’t find anyone from the rest of the party—not in Rialzo, or any of the surrounding villages or land. No trace.” He shook his head slowly. “I’ve been riding almost nonstop to get here.”
“The tethers,” Jenna murmured. She’d gone pale and gripped Enzo’s arm. She closed her eyes, then shook her head. “I can’t tell. Marko is so far away, and the connection isn’t very strong. But he’s not dead.” She pressed one hand against her stomach and looked vaguely sick. She wouldn’t meet my eyes. “I would have felt that.”
Chiara’s grip relaxed at the news. My eyebrows shot up. Jenna was developing a tether with Marko? Did she have a tether with everyone else here? And why did my stomach twist at that thought?
“What’s being done to find him?” I asked when I’d found my voice.
Luc squeezed his hand around the hilt of his sword. “I was only with four men. I’ve left them looking for him, two by two, and I told them to keep the search discreet. Riiga must be behind this. On the way to Vera, we encountered rumors of something big happening in connection with the king’s wedding.”
“Something bigger than a royal wedding?” I asked. Something big enough that the Medallion would urge me south?
Luc rubbed his eyes. “I didn’t think anything of it—until the king went missing.” He turned to Enzo. “Diri, if the something big has anything to do with all of the Riigans I saw in the southern villages, we could be looking at another attempted attack.”
Enzo frowned. “We handled them easily three months ago. Why would they try such a thing again? And why wouldn’t the advisors we placed on their council have mentioned any of these rumors?”
“If Riiga had an army on your border three months ago, why did Marko accept the invitation?” I growled. I knew I wasn’t helping the situation, but I should have come sooner, should have…done…something.
Enzo folded his arms. “The advisors on Riiga’s council recommended the king pay his respects at the wedding as a way to heal the breach between the kingdoms. All of them. Seals intact.”
So either they were all traitors, or there were a few more missing people we didn’t know about yet.
“I’m telling you,” Luc said, “Riiga is behind this.”
“So withhold your exports—deny them food and fresh water,” I said. “Slowly at first. A hint at what could happen if Marko isn’t released. If that doesn’t work, war. You said yourself you handled the conflict easily three months ago.”
Enzo’s hand covered his mouth, then moved to his hip. “Invading Riiga is nearly impossible. There’d be a bottleneck of troops at the path down the cliffs, and their fleet is far superior to ours if we tried an invasion by sea.”
My head jerked back. “Why haven’t you addressed these issues before? Riiga has been a threat for years.”
Enzo glared at me. “It hasn’t been necessary. The bottleneck works both ways, protecting us from a large-scale attack as well.”
Jenna edged a half step in front of Enzo. “We need to stay calm. Work together.”
<
br /> Guilt rolled in my gut like a rock. I should have come sooner.
Enzo slipped his hand into hers. “The messengers we sent to find the mages haven’t returned. If there aren’t any traces of what happened to my father, there could be magic involved.”
Jenna’s cheeks turned a shade paler, which I hadn’t thought possible. She grasped the hilt of the sword tucked into the folds of her skirt with a white-knuckle grip. “No,” she said hoarsely, then swallowed. “Mages are brutal. There would be rumors. Stories. Bodies.” Her voice dropped to a whisper on the last word, and she leaned into Enzo.
I swallowed and stared at the ground. Ever since our mother died, I’d been the one Jenna turned to—any problem, any hurt, it was my shoulder she leaned on, my job to cheer her up.
“No bodies,” Luc said, collapsing into a chair near the fire. “No rumors.”
I sighed and tilted my head to the side, working out a kink from making the twelve-day journey from Hálendi in ten. At least it wasn’t mages.
Enzo kissed the side of Jenna’s head, and she started pacing like she always did when she had a problem to think through. She truly didn’t need me anymore.
Jenna tugged her dress out of the way of a chair. “The mages were summoned from the Ice Deserts. It wasn’t Leland, though he was working with Graymere. It could be someone in Hálendi.” She looked to me and I nodded to confirm my agreement. I’d have to write to Edda—perhaps Isarr or the assassins could be persuaded to reveal information about that, if they had any.
The finger of a cool breeze snuck down the back of my collar. The stone arches of the crypt rose at the edges of my vision. I shook my head hard.
“Or it could be someone in Riiga. It could be anyone,” Enzo said.
“Does it matter?” Chiara asked her brother. At some point, she’d removed her hand from my arm and sat in a chair facing the others. “You and Jenna are betrothed. Use that alliance to bring in the soldiers and supplies we need from Hálendi.” She was fraying at the edges, her composure cracking, and I didn’t want to say what I had to. But everyone in this room needed to understand the state of alarm on the Plateau.
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