by Ann Denton
My stomach dropped.
Sard. How does he know about the dragon? I wondered.
"I didn't lie to you, Willard. I took a mage's oath. How could I lie?"
"I don’t know, but you got around the magic somehow."
I refrained from rolling my eyes because his fury was real. His fear was real. And it was well-founded.
"I am just as concerned about the issues on your lands as you are." I refrained from saying the word dragon, as we were still in a public place. "Your herds and people are important to me. Which is why I am shocked you are not moving them to safety when they are being poisoned in their current location."
Willard squinted at me. "It's nearly winter. And your solution was to tell me to basically clear out my entire province! That's not a solution at all."
"Ryan's sending men to deal with the issue."
"Issue," Lady Agatha interjected, pulling her embroidered handkerchief down from her large nose. "You can't even say it, can you? Dragon?"
"Is your goal to cause mass panic? To cause a riot? Or is your goal to save as many of your people and as many of your cattle—hence, your profits—as you possibly can?" I sneered. I had always hated Lady Agatha. Only now I was finally in a position to show it.
"You care for your province. Or it won't be yours much longer," my eyes flashed.
Willard's face flushed. Lady Agatha's mouth dropped open.
But I was done with them. I had played mother's court games all my life. But I was done with court games. I preferred the straight, loud-mouthed barmaid form of communication.
I prefer it when you shout too, Dove, Quinn interjected. I’d love to hear you shout my name. Think you can do that later?
As always, my knight made me smile, even as I strode away from two of the most frustratingly stupid members of my court.
I want Willard followed, I told Quinn. I don't trust him. My gut tells me this show of anger isn't new. And see if you can find out how he knew about the sarding dragon!
It's done, Quinn agreed, before opening up the carriage door for me.
Declan helped me cram my long black funeral dress into the carriage and then my knights climbed in behind me.
We rode back to the castle in silence, me trying to watch the sky and avoid thinking about my mother or fathers, Declan staring at a ledger he'd found in my mother's chamber, and Quinn silently communicating with his network of spies.
When we reached the castle, Connor came down to help us out of the carriage.
I'd refused to let him go to the funeral as it would be awash with emotion and he'd end up drained. Instead, I'd had him take an Invisibilty potion and go with one of Quinn's people down to the guest wing. He'd been snooping around Abbas' servants all morning, attempting to unearth the prince's true motives.
When we reached the royal wing of the palace, I grabbed Connor's hand. Once we were inside my room, I shut the door. "Well?" I asked.
"One of the footmen did mention that Abbas and his father had some sort of disagreement. But that could have been over anything. The sultan isn't known for his good temper. Overall, the mood of the servants seemed frazzled. They were packing up some trinkets to ship back to Cheryn. It seems the prince has a fondness for souvenirs."
I couldn't hide my disappointment. "You didn't feel any stress or secrets on any of them?"
"Not in the rooms I was in. We didn't get to his personal chamber though. I didn't get to see his personal butler."
I scrubbed at my face. It was sore from all the tears over the past few days. My cheeks were raw to the touch. "Well, if we can't find out what he wants through spying, we're going to have to try something else."
"Yeah?" Connor asked. "What?"
"More magic."
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Connor, Declan, Quinn, and I made our way across the castle via the spelled passageways. I was done with crowds, at least for a few hours. My coronation was at sunset. But I was drained. I needed to recharge before I had to fake smile through a ceremony I wished was still a distant hazy future event. Not the bleak thing I knew it would be.
We had just darted from one secret passage across the hall to another (our goal of Wyle’s tower was all the way across the castle) when Quinn made us stop.
Willard's meeting with some traders from Sedara. I need to hear this.
We all waited in the dark, leaning against the stone walls of the tunnel as Quinn had a silent debate with his minions.
Declan got bored enough that he divided the darkness to create a little bit of light where we stood. He and Connor and I began mimicking some of Quinn's more comical facial reactions.
Connor had just scrunched his nose like Quinn when the latter sent a curse reverberating through all our heads.
Shite!
"What? What is it?" I pushed off the wall. What would have my spy master so concerned?
Quinn looked at each of us in turn. His storm-cloud eyes settled on me last. And I didn't like the fear swirling in their depths.
Willard's meeting with our lovely Sedarian ambassador, Meeker. They went for a ride in the woods. One of my invisibles trailed them, though they set up spelled boundaries. My guy is good though and used his bottle of Flight. Their boundaries didn't extend overhead.
"And?"
And they were talking about trading an Evaness port in exchange for elf-made ice cannons. The kind that might be used to kill a dragon.
“Willard’s land doesn’t have a port.” I said. “It’s grazing land.”
Yes, well they also discussed the possibility that Evaness … needs a new monarch.
The words were a punch to the gut, the kind that goes all the way through the spine. It stole my breath. I stumbled backward into Declan, who put his arms around me.
"Sard. Sard. Sarding hell." I muttered.
"We aren't going to let that happen, Bloss Boss," Connor tried to soothe me.
"We have a treaty with Sedara,” I bit out angrily.
"Countries will use you and toss you aside at their first convenience," Declan said wryly. "A lesson I learned when I was first sent here."
"If Sedara's going to help Willard try and unseat me ... they're looking for war."
"This smells rotten. Think about it. Would Sedara be this angry over a suitor visit?” Declan asked.
“Meeker was furious. It took me ages to calm him down,” Connor responded.
“Would Willard bring in a dragon to kill your sister, but change his plans when you returned?”
I sucked in a breath. “He did ask me if I actually hunted dragons. When we had the mage spell.”
Everyone exchanged dark glances.
But then Declan squinted. “All of this gives Abbas a wonderful place to negotiate from. I wonder how much his hand helped stir that pot?” He turned to face me. “How much more likely are you to consider his proposal if you think Sedara is against you? If you think your own people are turning against you? It seems rather suspicious to me."
I’m sending someone to check Meeker’s chambers, Quinn told me. We’ll see if the real Meeker is in the woods or not.
“You think one of Abbas’ people is posing as Meeker?” I asked.
It’s possible.
Anything is possible, I retorted.
The possibilities crowded my mind, each one clamoring for attention. I put my hands to my head, trying to stop the noise. My first day as queen, and plots already circled me like sharks.
Is this how Mother felt? I wondered.
Perhaps this was why she'd wanted to control every last detail of every person around her. Was it because so many uncontrollable forces raged against her at every turn? Was that what holding the crown meant? She'd never said as much in her lessons, but I suspected it was true. Holding the crown was simply holding a target, waiting for the next person to toss their knife at your chest.
Connor stroked my arm.
Quinn sent a pair of turtle doves cooing and circling through the corridor. One of them landed and pooped on Con
nor's shoulder.
"That's not nice," I eyed Quinn.
Just getting him back for cheating at sex games yesterday.
You’re a silly asshole. I rolled my eyes. But Quinn quelled the panic that had been rising in my chest.
I took a deep breath. "Let's go. We'll deal with Willard later, when Ryan's back. Right now, let’s go see Wyle and see what he might be able to do for us. Let’s work on the Abbas problem first. I want to know why he’s here and what he really wants. Then we’ll tackle Willard. He’s not nearly as bright."
I didn’t say aloud that Meeker concerned me as I strode back down the passage. That the power of Sedara backing an idiot like Willard concerned me. Their navy made them the strongest kingdom of the seven. And if they were determined to replace me with a puppet king … a shiver ran down my spine. I’d prefer if Abbas had sent a fake Meeker to meet with Willard. I hoped that was the case. I’d rather one enemy than two.
I pushed myself to walk faster. I’d see what Wyle had in his bag of tricks to force the truth from Abbas.
Then I’ll wallop that shite-eating little Lord Willard. And his mother, too.
I had no doubt Lady Agatha was aware of every move her pudgy-little-roll of a son made.
I wrung my hands as I tried to weigh whether or not I could handle an alliance with Abbas. He was smooth, but not forthcoming. He made my skin prickle. In sensuality but also in fear.
Quinn butted into my head. There’s something wrong about Abbas. I don’t trust him, he yelled at all of us.
“New rule. Unless it’s an emergency or naughty bidding, you’re gonna have to tell us each individually,” I held a hand over my ringing ear.
“Abbas does have djinn powers though, if we’re considering alliances,” Declan countered. “His brothers can conjure. Not in the castle, obviously, with our preventative spells. But that could be useful.”
I stopped in my tracks. “Wait. Isn’t one of his brothers … can’t one of them shape shift?”
Connor waved a hand. “Anyone with a good spelled disguise can do that. We don’t need him for that.”
“Unless he can turn into a dragon,” I responded. No hedge-witch spell would be strong enough to transform a human into one of the most powerful magical creatures known to man. Even Wyle had never managed it, and I knew for a fact mother had made him try during the last Fire War. But djinn were a different story. Full djinn could easily transform. A half-djinn—I didn’t know the limits for half-djinn.
We all stopped and stared at one another.
“Why didn’t all the brothers come on this suitor visit again?” I asked.
Connor bit his lip. “Their official response was that two were ill and the other two susceptible to catching the illness. Magic fever. Quite dangerous to half-djinn. Their magical and their human sides war against one another. And it’s contagious. The recovery is slow, I’ve heard.”
“Why was Abbas able to make it?” I asked.
“He typically stays at their military outpost instead of in the palace.”
I stopped walking. “Shite.”
“Do you think the illness is a lie? You think one of the brothers has been the dragon prowling around?” Connor asked.
“What did your ambassadors in Cheryn say?”
Connor shook his head. “No one’s seen the princes. They’ve been in quarantine for over a month. But you really think … a dragon?”
I bit my lip. “I don’t sarding know. But now I really want to do a mage spell with Abbas so he has to tell me the truth.”
I ran my hand along the seam that opened the spelled passageway and pushed open the door. We came out at the stairs at the base of Wyle's tower.
I nearly ran into Abbas, who was walking toward a nearby door that opened to the winter garden and poinsettas outside. His shirt was half-buttoned, per his usual half-dressed state, and his hair was slicked back. He seemed slightly out of breath. And slightly startled to see me at first. Of course, his surprise quickly transformed into something else.
"Your Majesty," Abbas crooned. “How wonderful to see you.”
He smelled of smoke. Probably from attending the funeral. There had been bonfires lit on the cliff to keep attendees warm.
Abbas’ eyes twinkled down at me.
I stiffened and straightened my mourning gown.
He can’t read thoughts, can he? I asked as dragons and Abbas collided in my mind’s eye.
Not according to my sources.
"Prince Abbas. Thank you for your attendance this morning."
"Yes, of course. Your mother was one of the few monarchs my father held any esteem for, so I was more than happy to attend and represent Cheryn.”
I studied his face. “It is sad. But she was ill. And I believe she made her peace with it.”
“I’m glad you were able to make it home to say goodbye. I’m certain that you also gave her a great deal of peace,” Abbas stroked my forearm.
I glanced up at him, trying to read his expression. Was he sincere? “I heard your own brothers are ill. I’m so sorry. It’s hard to see a loved one—”
Abbas’s eyes flashed and his smile widened. “Yes, quite hard.”
He’s lying. I can’t tell about what, but Connor says he can feel the lie.
I reached out and rubbed Abbas’ hand with my own. “If there’s anything I can do …”
“Well, you can marry me,” Abbas winked.
My cheeks flushed. “I don’t think that will help your brothers.”
He raised an eyebrow at me. He leaned forward and whispered, “Perhaps it would.”
I shivered. His breath had raised the hairs on my neck. My body wanted to lean toward him. But my mind was torn.
Is this a lie? Are his brothers really ill? Is that related to his desire to marry me? Or is it all a trick, a ploy? My brain rambled.
Sultan Raj loved mind games. I felt certain his son did, too. I stepped back. “Enjoy the gardens, Your Highness.”
“Won’t you join me?”
“I’ve a meeting to attend.” My mind flickered over Willard’s betrayal. The sooner I found out how Wyle’s spells could help me untangle Abbas’ truths and lies, the sooner I could strip Willard and his family of their titles.
Abbas stroked the inside of my wrist. “The crown is heavy isn’t it? I can lighten your burden, if you wish. As an engagement gift.”
What double speak. Does he mean take my crown? Or help me? I was mentally exhausted by trying to figure him out.
What’s he thinking?
He’s shuffling his thoughts again, Quinn ground out. Been shuffling this entire time.
I ground my lips into a tight smile. “That’s unnecessary.”
“I’m happy to do it.”
“It’s unnecessary because we aren’t engaged.”
Abbas’ let go of my hand and stroked his beard. He gave me an evaluating glance. “Oh, we will be.”
I reminded myself to breathe through my nose instead of letting out an angry huff. I had to appear calm and unaffected, though his arrogance rankled me.
Damn him. Abbas was so tempting, his eyes so delicious and full of naughty promises that I was flustered in spite of my brain screaming ‘caution.’
I turned on my heel and stomped up the many twisting stairs to Wyle’s tower.
Connor, Quinn, and Declan trailed behind me, recognizing my mood as explosive.
I smacked open the door to Wyle’s chamber. No knock. No pretense. I just shoved it open so hard it banged against the stone wall.
“Wyle!” I called.
I took one step into the room and stopped.
In the middle of the stone floor was a deep red puddle. Shards of bone and skin protruded from it. Blood spatter coated the walls, the worktables. Everything.
“What the hell?” Declan asked as he came up behind me.
“What happened to him?” Connor asked. “Blow himself up in one of his experiments?”
“I hope so,” I whispered.
I
grabbed a yardstick and stuck it into the gooey puddle in the floor. The stick caught on something and I dragged up Wyle’s goggles. “It’s him.”
I stuck the stick in once more and stirred, hoping to find a beaker or some kind of evidence that Wyle had done this to himself.
What I found was a chain. I dragged the chain out of the puddle with my stick. I bent and wiped the chain on my dress. It was gold and interwoven with a blue material that glowed slightly.
“Does that look like elven chain?” I asked Declan.
He squatted next to me. “I’m not sure. Why?”
“Elven chain controls the wearer, doesn’t it?” I asked, using the stick to pick up the dripping, broken necklace.
“Yes.”
Connor piped up. “Cheryn supposedly stole elven chain from Sedara several months ago. One of those pirate attacks.”
“So this could mean Abbas …”
Connor shrugged. “It could. Though Sedara always has access to this type of chain. So, it could mean them too.”
I held up the chain and stared as it dripped blood onto the floor. “If this is elven chain, then Wyle’s death wasn’t an accident. If it is, someone controlled him and I think it means my mother’s security spell activated.”
What’s that?
“She had spells created that ensured anyone who betrayed royal secrets … would explode.”
Everyone turned to stare at the puddle that used to be the castle mage.
“What secret did he give up?” Connor asked.
I looked grimly at each of my husbands. “I don’t know.”
Chapter Thirty
We left Wyle’s tower a somber group.
Ryan joined us at the base of the stairs. He saw the trail of blood my skirt left on the stairs behind me.
“Not mine,” I reassured him. “Quinn, fill him in while we walk through the spelled passages back to my chamber.”
I fell back as we walked, thinking. Planning. I’d hoped to use Wyle to help solve my problems. But clearly someone had anticipated that move. Or used Wyle for their own devices. There would be no easy path ahead for me. No one would just bow down, roll over, and confess everything I wanted to hear.
