“But she can’t do that ifwekill the bitch first,” I say.
“Damn fucking right,” Tira breathes, reaching out and squeezing my hand.
I might not know what the future holds for the throne of Trova, but to be honest, right now I don’t know if I can find it in me to care. All I know that as long as I still have breath in me, I won’t let my aunt sit on it.
We wanted a quiet life, to retreat to the safety of Gullert and find some peace, but we won’t get peace until she’s in the ground. I’m starting to realize you can’t run from some fires. No, there are flames you can only fight by lighting a blaze yourself. Bargaining with Leon for freedom, or even protection, isn’t enough anymore—and he’s no longer the enemy I want to bring low.
“Stay here,” I say, and I rise, letting the heat of my anger fuel me into action.
“Where are you going?” she asks.
“To make a deal,” I say.
I know Leon won’t have gone far. He’s still committed to watching over me, making sure I’m safe. And just as I expected, when I leave my room he’s right there, stationed outside the door like a statue.
“We should go to your brother,” I say. “From what Alastor says, time isn’t on our side. We shouldn’t risk delaying any longer.”
“You’ll heal him?” he asks, and the note of fragile hope in his voice shakes me a little. I’m not used to hearing him unmoored like that. He’s usually the single, solid point in an unstable world.
“I’ll try,” I say. I can only hope that when I see his illness firsthand, it will help me work out exactly what I’m missing. That I’ll finally discover the trick to properly manipulating celestial flame.
He takes a step forward, and for a second, I think he’s going to kiss me again. Panic runs through me, as well as a spike of desire. I don’t know what I’ll do if he does.
But he simply takes my hand, lifting it to his lips. Heat rushes to my cheeks as his mouth brushes my skin, his eyes pinning me in place.
“Thank you,” he says.
“Don’t thank me yet,” I say, withdrawing my hand. “There’s something I want you to do for me in return.”
“What is that?”
I inhale, letting the hunger for revenge wash over me.
“You’re going to help me kill my aunt.”
Chapter 12
Morgana
Itilt my head back to bask in the sunlight, the hood of my traveling cloak slipping slightly from my face. It’s taken us nearly a week to ride from Vastamae to the fae capital, Lavail. The shift in the weather has been gradual, the air slowly warming each day as we get further south. Now it’s almost too hot for my cloak, and I glance at the others, wondering if they’re struggling too. But the fae look quite comfortable, used to the balmy climate of their home city.
“Remember to keep your face covered,” Leon turns to murmur to me where I’m seated behind him. I’m back sharing his horse. He insisted, and I couldn’t be bothered to kick up a fuss about it.
I might still not be over what he did, but we’re working together now. He accepted my deal immediately. And now that we’re in this together, there isn’t room for pettiness.
I’ll admit it was distracting for the first few days, to be so close to him on a regular basis after weeks of trying—with varying success—to keep my distance. But eventually, my treacherous body relaxed enough to handle being pressed up against him for hours on end.
Nevertheless, I was glad when Lavail came into view and gave me something else to focus on. The city looks like someone spilled a paintbox over it. Every building, from the smallest, most humble residences to the grandest mansions, is decorated in vibrant shades. The most common colors are terracotta, mustard, and burnt orange, but the streets are punctuated by buildings painted fern green or the deep cerulean I saw at the Lyceum.
I’d love to explore further, but we’re sticking to the back streets, making sure no one notices us.
“We’ll need to be discreet entering the city,” Leon explained to me a few days ago. “We don’t want to draw attention to your presence.”
I agreed with him, of course. The attack at the Lyceum proved that I have enemies in Filusia. No need to advertise that I’m in the city. However bright and beautiful it is, I’m sure it hides plenty of darkness too.
It also makes me glad I spent so much of our journey practicing my ability to block sensic magic. If I focus, I can keep myself from breaking into cackles of laughter for a full minute before I succumb to Damia’s magic.
I tried to coax Tira into giving it a go too. I want her to be just as protected as I am, even if she’s less of a target. But I couldn’t be surprised when she declined. She’s not talked much in the last week, despite Stratton’s best efforts to cheer her up, and I’ve had to keep an eye out to make sure she’s eating enough. The news about her family has drained vitality out of her, and I can only hope that things will get better soon. Once we’ve done what we need to at the palace, we can think about Oclanna, and thatmight give Tira the focus she needs—something to hold onto in a sea of grief.
