Watching that made my heart pound faster in my chest.

  “Exactly,” said Blue. His tone grew more excited as he and Quinn stared at one another. “If Ryan goes and gets the beast master … can the rest of us come up with a target and a plan?”

  A wicked, naughty grin spread across Quinn’s face. And for the first time since we’d thought he was human, the first time since his living nightmare had hit him, I felt like I had my spy master back.

  “Well, we are in Rasle,” Declan contributed. “Isla would be the easiest natural target.”

  Quinn gave a sharp nod.

  Connor argued. “She’s going to have herself well-protected.”

  “From what?” asked Blue.

  “Sedara’s still a force to be reckoned with,” Declan contributed. “If they didn’t think my mother was a threat, they wouldn’t have united.”

  Blue reclined against a fallen log. “That’s true. But we haven’t seen any sign of Sedara. No ships. No elves. They have some gargoyles of their own. Why haven’t they come? And then, the three rulers leading this—how united are they? How much do they trust one another?”

  I watched my newest knight as he considered the possibilities. His eyes were sharp and calculating. “My father trusts no one. Even those who owe him wishes, whose families he could devastate with that wish.”

  I’d long heard of how twisted Sultan Raj was. But Cerena hadn’t. Growing up in the Cerulean Forest, away from politics, she didn’t know just how heartless the monarchs around us could be.

  “Come again?” she asked.

  I leaned forward to explain, but Blue beat me to it. “My father loves when peasants can’t pay their taxes. He accepts a wish in place of payment. And his favorite punishment—should anyone in that family upset him, is to call in that wish. He forces the family member who gave him the wish to wish evil things upon the others.”

  Cerena sucked in a breath. “Like what?”

  “Can’t wish death on someone. But lost limbs is a favorite. Barrenness.”

  Cerena stared down at her bread and shook her head. “Awful.”

  Declan said, “I think we need to get our focus back on Isla. As awful as Raj is, he’s not the closest possibility, if we’re going to try what I think you’re suggesting.”

  “Agreed. Focus on Isla. But how can we figure out where she is?” I asked. Quinn couldn’t talk to his spy network, which he thought had been compromised anyway. What could we do?

  “I could see her if I had a scrying stone,” Cerena shook her head regretfully.

  Connor held up a hand. “Hold on. I studied our maps extensively for her recent visit. And we’ve flown past Rasle’s lone river—” He stood up and glanced around us at the hills to our north, then he pointed inland. “If I’m not mistaken, I think there used to be a hedgewitch lodge just east of here.”

  “Used to be?” I asked.

  “Supposedly, it hasn’t been used since the last Fire War,” he responded.

  Cerena nodded. “Many of us have refused to gather since then. Too dangerous. Too tempting for someone to erase the local magic in one fell swoop.”

  I looked over to her. “Will they have what you need?”

  She shrugged. “It’s likely been ransacked, but scrying stones are heavy. Maybe.”

  I eyed my husbands. “Worth a try.”

  Ryan was the only one who looked uncomfortable with the arrangement. He walked over to me and extended his hand. I stood and he led me away, weaving through some pine trees, so that we had a little bit of privacy.

  The smell of dry pine wrapped around me as Ryan’s deep eyes seemed to drink me in. “I don’t like the idea of being separated,” his voice was a low rumble.

  His words pinched my heart. But emotion and reality were two separate things. We both knew it.

  He took my hand and his giant fingers stroked my palm.

  I enjoyed the sensation, and let his fingers circle my wrists, then trap them, push them to my right side as he stepped in and leaned down for a kiss. His lips pressed hard on mine. His tongue plundered my mouth and desire surged through me. Ryan always had the ability to make my body melt in pleasure at the slightest touch.

  But Ryan didn’t press further. He ended our kiss with a rough nip and pressed his forehead down to mine.

  I sighed. “I don’t like the idea of separation either,” I admitted. “But we need to act quickly. Those gargoyles … if we could control them easily, think what we could do. Right now, Evaness is too vulnerable.”

  He straightened and nodded. “I know. We have to. I don’t like it, though. I don’t like the idea of you being in danger.”

  I shrugged. “We’re in a war now. We’re all in danger.” Even so, the idea of Ryan flying alone made me cringe. “If anyone attacks you, suck the water right out of the air like you did earlier—they won’t be able to see clearly, much less think.”

  He laughed gruffly. “Neither will I.”

  “Declan,” I called out.

  My blond scholar trotted toward us dutifully. Out of all my men, he wore soldier’s garb the worst. Used to soft boots and pants, he was already limping from the rough, poorly made boots. And I had no doubt he hated the dark blue leather armor that Isla had her cavalry wear. My own outfit was hot and sticky, even with the chill of winter and the hint of sea wind in the air.

  “Can you help Ryan learn enough about your power in ten minutes to kill a few people?”

  “Ten minutes?” Declan’s eyes nearly bulged out of his face.

  “Yes. Because the sooner he gets Jace, the sooner the gargoyles get trained, the sooner we can beat down these sarding shites attacking us.”

  Declan walked over to Ryan.

  “Ten minutes. The rest of us need to head to that lodge.”

  Declan swallowed hard and nodded. “We’re going after Isla, then?”

  I smiled, the old queen’s sharp features coming to mind as I thought of ending her. “We’re sure as hell gonna try.”

  And I left my knights to it as I walked back to the rest of the group.

  We had a murder to plan.

  Chapter Four

  Ryan wouldn’t agree to take Connor with him, though I tried to insist.

  “You’re headed into battle,” I argued.

  “You’re headed into the unknown. To attempt assassination.”

  “You don’t have healing anymore. You need the healer. You can’t just—”

  “Declan’s taught me enough.”

  I raised a brow.

  He simply raised his as he stared down at me. And that attraction between us grew. It flickered like fireflies. And then like a candle’s flame. Ryan took a step toward me, and the draw between us heated, like a fire newly stoked. Hot coals turned over inside me. He roughly grabbed my hair and pulled back slightly, hurting just the tiniest bit. His dark chocolate eyes were molten as he stared down at me, radiating command and confidence. “You’re my queen. And you’ll do what I say.”

  My knees went to jelly at those words.

  I swallowed hard against my attraction and my tears. “Yes, sir.”

  He leaned down and scooped me up, giving me a harsh kiss. His tongue dove into my mouth, owning it, ensuring my submission. Once he felt me grow soft and compliant, once my arms looped over his broad shoulders and sought to bring his body tighter against mine, he abruptly dropped me into Quinn’s arms.

  He stared down at my spy master and used the tone of voice he used on his soldiers. “Use that speed. Scout ahead. Keep her safe.”

  Quinn nodded.

  And with that, my giant mounted up, cursed his stone beast, and took to the sky.

  We left the majority of the gargoyles behind. I ordered those that remained to return to rock formation until Evaness soldiers could return to ride them. They’d surprisingly obeyed that order without hesitation or difficulty. Perhaps they were naturally inclined to laziness. Or … naptime? In any case, the beasts dutifully rolled themselves back up into balls, like little stone pill bugs, their etched features fading back into ebony boulders. I could only hope that the gargoyles had a better attention span for sleeping than they seemed to have for flying.

  Ryan had flown southeast, toward our capital, Marscha. The rest of us flew due east, along the hills that separated Cheryn and Rasle, the two countries warring against us.

  Fear pricked at my neck the entire journey. I was on high alert for bears, giants, djinn. There weren’t many creeks or large waterways in these parts, so I was less worried about the sea witch. When Connor, who took the lead, started cursing and kicking his gargoyle into a descent, I was relieved. I realized that I’d feared an aerial fight. Our toddler-level flying skills would be no match for any creature—even a pegasus—in battle.

  We flew down toward a stone lodge that was set in a dead meadow. The flowers and grasses looked as withered and stooped as old women. Clearly, the area had been through a drought. Everything was a pale tan. We fought to get our gargoyles to land. Mine did so reluctantly, and I slid into the crunchy, dead grass.

  Blue’s gargoyle tipped him sideways, rather than touch down in a field. Instead, the beast tilted until Blue slid off, cursing. He accidentally sent us all thoughts of taking a sledgehammer to his gargoyle.

  He’s just a baby, I scolded, teasingly.

  He’s a magic sarding rock. In Cheryn, he wouldn’t last half a second before someone wished his will away. Blue brushed dust and dead grass out of his hair.

  They can do that? Wish away someone’s will?

  Why do you think we all became animals? Under threat, it’s better than becoming mindless zombies. We let that wizard transform us rather than let my father wish some worse fate upon us.

  An image of his father popped up in Blue’s mind. I saw Sultan Raj, sitting on a jeweled throne, laughing viciously as he made four poor old men dance as if they were nubile young girls. One man’s hip went out and he fell to the floor. The crack echoed throughout Blue’s thoughts. But the old man climbed back to his feet and continued to dance, favoring his good leg.

  Blue scrubbed at his face as though he wanted to erase the memory.

  I walked over and slid my hand through his. I gave a little squeeze. “Royal parents can be … unkind.” I tried to be diplomatic.

  He stared down sadly at me and shook his head. Your mother was kinder than most.

  Images flooded my mind. A whip. A chain. A dish of food set on the floor just out of reach. The harsh voice of the sultan as he said, “Transform, boy! No heir of mine—”

  Blue squeezed my fingers and tried to stop projecting his thoughts. Sorry. I didn’t mean to send that.

  No, don’t be sorry. I want to know you. I want to know—

  No one wants to know that.

  And with that, my newest knight turned and pulled me toward the rest of the group, effectively ending our conversation.

  But I wouldn’t let go of his hand. I held onto Blue, twining my fingers tightly with his as we walked toward the low-roofed stone structure where hedgewitches used to meet.

  Quinn ran around and then inside it, a blur so fast that I had to blink to be sure it was him. He gave us an all-clear signal before we headed inside.

  When we walked into the lodge, it was clear it had been abandoned for a long time. Pieces of thatch were missing from the roof, allowing weaker shafts of winter sunlight to drift down and make the floor a patchwork of light. The rushes on the floor were dark and covered in dust and mouse droppings.

  Declan recoiled. "Ugh. Try not to touch anything.”

  "Not a problem." I responded. I was glad for my thick leather boots as we trudged through the mess. There was a long table at one end of the room, and Cerena immediately headed that way. The chairs that surrounded the table were mostly overturned or broken. She shoved aside the pieces looking for a scrying stone.

  "What color and what size would it be?” I asked.

  "It would be a flat black rock. About the size of a plate."

  We all bent to search around the table and on the homemade shelves built into the wall, but it looked as though everything had been scavenged from the building long ago.

  Until Blue nearly tripped and fell on his face. “Ow! Sarding rock!” He grabbed for his boot but pulled his hand back when he saw how covered in droppings it was. He left his sore foot alone then.

  Cerena hurried over. Her knees creaked as she used the table for support and slowly bent to dust off the rock on the floor. It was black and flat, though the edges were far more jagged than any scrying stone I’d ever seen at the palace. “It’s broken. But it’ll do.”

  Connor went over and picked up the stone for Cerena. She gestured, and he laid it on the table for her.

  Declan found the sole unbroken chair. He took off his blue Raslen vest and dusted it off for her.

  Cerena nodded her thanks. She took her pouch of potions and set them on the table, pushing them aside so they’d be out of her way. We all crowded near and I ended up peering over her right shoulder at the stone. She spit onto the top of the rock, scratched it with what smelled like a cinnamon stick, and muttered under her breath. Instantly, the rock turned glassy, as though a miniature lake floated on top of it.

  We all stood silently as Cerena chanted under her breath and watched as she pulled a hair from her head and dropped it onto the stone. Instantly, the water seemed to ripple, and the hair was sucked under, disappearing into the depths.

  A scene started to emerge, a very familiar scene. Isla stood at a poker table, a war map spread out on the green felt and held down by steins full of ale. Several blue-clad generals surrounded her, and one pointed at a location on the map. Her keen eyes studied it for a moment before nodding sharply.

  A door opened to the side of the room and Kylee stumbled in.

  My skin prickled with goosebumps.

  No, I thought. No.

  The tavern keeper who’d been fool enough to hire me, take me in and keep me while I’d been a selfish teen on the run from her fate, was now a prisoner.

  One of Rasle’s soldiers stood at Kylee’s back, a dagger glittering between them. Kylee wore the same green vest he’d always worn when I’d worked for him. Only now, it was stained with dark patches. I couldn’t decipher if they were dirt or blood.

  I fidgeted with my skirt as I watched, hoping Kylee wouldn’t be hurt, but knowing there was absolutely nothing I could do about it if he was.

  My old boss stumbled toward Isla. The soldier behind him forced him into a rough bow.

  “Respect your queen,” the soldier hissed.

  Kylee’s face grew dark. My throat tightened.

  Don’t say anything rash, I silently urged.

  Luckily, the tavern owner had always been more adept than me at holding his tongue. “My apologies,” he said.

  I noted he didn’t add ‘your majesty.’ So, there was still some small bit of rebellion in him.

  “I was told you would decide upon the dinner for your soldiers. We have one cow, typically used for milk. Two pigs—”

  Isla tilted her head. The smile she gave to Kylee was bone-chilling. “The soldiers I have coming here are pure giant.”

  Kylee’s face paled. “There are horses as well.”

  “Oh, no. That won’t do at all,” Isla shook her head. “That won’t be nearly enough. I did hear you have ten guests?”

  Kylee swallowed hard and straightened. His eyes glittered with rage. He opened his mouth—

  My hand clamped down on Cerena’s shoulder. It was an unbidden response to the anxiety in my stomach. But I distracted her. We lost the image in the stone. It rippled and went dark. The water-like surface disappeared, and the stone became nothing more than a flat black slab once more.

  Blue shook his head. “That doesn’t give us much to go on. Could be nearly anywhere—”

  “I know where it is,” Cerena and I spoke at the same time.

  We glanced at each other, tension radiating from each of our bodies until it felt like we were tangled in strands of it—awful, choking ropes of anxiety.

  Declan was the first to break away toward the door. “We’d best get going. How far is this place?”

  “The Cerulean Forest,” my voice was breathier than I liked. But Kylee had been the closest thing I’d had to family back then. I knew exactly what his response to Isla’s request would be. And I knew his fate. I blew out a breath.

  Connor squeezed my hand and pulled me toward the door as Blue helped Cerena up from her chair.

  I glanced back at my castle mage and tripped, falling over a chair leg.

  Connor caught me just before I hit the floor. I smacked into him and he tumbled onto his ass, yelping. “Ow!”

  I pushed myself off him and stood quickly. “I’m sorry!” I hadn’t meant for him to catch me.

  “No, it’s not you. I fell on something,” Connor pulled himself up and dusted off the rushes. He rubbed at his hip and studied the floor. He kicked aside a broken chair seat and a pile of rotted straw. "Umm… I think I might've found something."

  I peered around him as he kicked aside more rushes, revealing a trapdoor with a rusted metallic ring for a handle.

  “I fell on that,” he pointed at the ring.

  Something about the trapdoor and the ring made me think of dungeons. Why would hedgewitches have dungeons? Who would they keep down there? What would they do? I’d worked with many hedgewitches while I’d been on my own. But always individually. Never in a group. They’d always been sweet, helpful. I’d always thought of them more as healers than anything else. But dungeons … A shiver crept up my spine. I glanced up at Cerena, who still held Blue’s elbow. "Is it common to have trapdoors in hedgewitch lodges?"

  Her eyes grew narrow. Backlit by a ray of sun, with her face in shadow, the whites of her eyes seemed to gleam in an ominous manner as she said, "Only if this place was active after the last Fire War. As a place to hide, perhaps. Or if …" she trailed off and then glanced around the room. She walked toward one of the bookshelves and traced her fingers over it. Beneath the dust, there were a few magical runes. She traced a few of the symbols. "Or if this place was used for death magic."

  I sucked in a breath. Death magic was possibly rarer than wizards. It was as dark and dangerous as the name implied. Death magic’s goal was to weave a spell and imbue power into an amulet that could reduce anything to dust, or so the old castle mage, Wyle, had told me. The danger was that the legendary amulets most often reduced their makers to dust upon creation. Like alchemy, death magic had always been more of a fairy tale than a reality.

 

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