The ink had pooled at the tip of the quill, leaking heavily like blood. Her signature would secure peace for Brittany, strength against France… perhaps her own legitimacy in the eyes of man and creature.
I love you,Lilac thought, a trembling prayer from the depths of her blood-bound soul.
When her hand began to move, a sudden and viscous wind whipped her hair into her face, slipping the heavy parchment out from beneath her quill. She grabbed for it, but the scroll flew over her head, tumbling and twisting through the air—straight into the hearth.
“What are you doing?” Adelaide shrieked, looking towards Myrddin.
His hands were open, framing the swirling ball of fragment and mist again. His eyes were aglow with white light.
“Tempus Glaciem,” he boomed, and shoved his palms toward the sky, floating the ball high above his head. The sphere turned as bright as his eyes?—
Then, it exploded.
An invisible force shocked the room. She shielded her face, losing her balance against the magic that emanated from the blast. Lilac swayed; the wind had died down as suddenly as it had started. The hearth was a blurred rectangle of light across the room when she blinked, willing her vision to readjust.
A racketing sob escaped her chest. It was all she could manage.
Garin kept a wary eye on the stake still clutched in Bastion’s hand as he staggered to his feet. Bastion was still as a statue, unmoving, his face twisted in dumbfounded confusion toward Myrddin. Adelaide was mid-stride in the warlock’s direction, her cascade of black hair billowing behind her, hand shoved wrist-deep in the pocket of her black dress.
Even the flames in the hearth were motionless.
Piper slid off the edge of the bed, waving a hand in front of Adelaide’s face in wonder.
“Now that I have your undivided attention,” said Myrddin, the light in his eyes fading. “I thought I’d introduce you to someone who I believe hasbeen attempting to reach out to you from beyond the gloam, Your Majesty.”
Garin groaned. “Marvelous. And at no less dire a moment.”
“What is agloam?”
“An unofficial term for the realm of the fae Your Majesty. Your presence is requested as well, Sir Trevelyan,” he added, inclining his head at Garin. Then, with a weary sigh at Piper—“And you, my mystery of daylight-made-flesh, shall remain at my side.”
Lilac’s eyes narrowed while Garin cast a distant glance through the balcony doors toward the still forest below. “Does the entire world halt each time you do this?” she asked.
“No. Especially not for as long as I’ll need you this time,” he scoffed. “Do you know the cost of such a spell?” But Myrddin considered it, tapping his chin. “The whole world. It might be enough arcana tounmakeme. A tempting idea… No, what I’ve done here is far less dramatic.” He turned, voice suddenly grave. “Currently, we dwell within a pocket of time, carved from the flow. To our own senses, the world has frozen, but in truth, we are simply removed from it—ghosts walking unseen, unfelt. Time presses on without us, until we rejoin her raging current.”
“You mean thefourof us?” Piper asked, glancing sideways at Lilac.
Myrddin’s smile was thin. “If it pleases you.”
“Return us,” Lilac commanded, her will ironclad as unease settled into her marrow. “Rennes is burning. Others will follow.”
“Oh? So eager to sign that contract, are you?”
“The one you destroyed?” Garin said quietly. He wrenched the stake from Bastion’s hand. “I saw it fly straight into that fire.Someoneis going to have to explain to the emperor just what happened to his long list of demands.”
Myrddin simply dusted his shoulder. “That was notmydoing.”
“Whoever wishes to speak with us can wait,” insisted Lilac.
“No.” Putting a finger up, Myrddin’s pleasant demeanor turned instantly threatening. “No, it cannot.”
He would not budge; that much was clear, cryptic as he’d insisted on remaining.
“What matters right now is our ceremony,” Lilac said. “The public oath itself. That François’s men see I’ve become Maximilian’s wife.”
She hadn’t heard him approach; she blushed as Garin swiped the handle of her dagger on the towel at his waist before slipping it into a high sheath at her right hip that looked like it was made just for stakes.
Jaw clenched, Garin looked like he was going to be sick. “Keep that at your side.”
