“They’re dead.” The queen’s chill voice raises gooseflesh on my arms. Valoria shivers beside me. “All eight of Elsinor’s necromancers were slain by a Shade. I wish we’d known sooner—not that we’ve been in much position to help—but it seems to have happened as quickly as the raven flies.”
“And so, my Serpent, please say you’ll do this for me.” Hadrien’s voice simmers with barely controlled sorrow. “Don’t make me beg. My Eldest Grandfather is missing. I can’t worry about the people of Elsinor dying on my watch, too, and they have no one to deal with Shades now.” He lowers his voice, leaning toward me. “I’ll feel so much better if you see to it. Please, Sparrow. You’re the best, as His Majesty knew, and you’re the only one I trust.”
He draws back, his eyes glistening, and takes both my hands in his.
I open my mouth. But as I look from Valoria’s pale face to the queen clutching the arm of the throne for support, the words get stuck in my throat. Something doesn’t feel right. King Wylding never once ordered me away from his side no matter what was happening in the other provinces, and leaving Grenwyr City with him missing seems wrong. Maybe Elsinor does need me, but Grenwyr needs me more than ever, too.
Her Majesty echoes my thoughts. “Find my husband for me, Sparrow,” the queen pleads, sinking onto the throne. “I trust you more than any of the guards. I know you can do it. Then, of course, head to Elsinor afterward, by all means.”
I bow to her. “Yes, Majesty.” After all, with King Wylding gone, the queen is the one in charge, not Hadrien.
“Overruled,” Hadrien says, frowning apologetically. “Sparrow, please pack your things and head to Elsinor at once, to Abethell Castle. Since Baroness Abethell is the one who wrote to us, she should direct you to where you’re needed most. And hurry.” His expression is grim. “When word of the king’s disappearance gets out, we’ll have panic in the streets, and it could cost you precious hours.”
“Didn’t you hear what Eldest Grandmother said?” Valoria demands.
Hadrien nods, still frowning. “I did. And as acting regent, I’m overruling Eldest Grandmother’s wishes, with all due respect.” He runs a hand through his blond hair. “I’m sorry. I’m just doing what I think is right.” Looking pleadingly at me, he adds, “Tell me, Sparrow: If it came to saving him or his people, which would His Majesty have you choose?”
I don’t need to think about the answer. “His people.” He’s always sacrificing himself for us, after all.
“Then you understand why I think he’d want you to go to Elsinor.”
I nod, resigned to the task, but something is still bothering me. I ask in a whisper, “Why did Her Majesty appoint you regent, Highness? Is she unwell?”
“It’s the law,” Valoria says quickly, like she’s just remembered. “The laws of inheritance haven’t changed in Karthia in well over two hundred years. Like everything else. And the law in place before his reign said that if the current ruler could no longer sit on the throne for any reason, the crown would pass to the next living heir who’d come of age.” She blinks at Hadrien, her voice getting softer as she continues. “And since our father is dead, and Mother’s Dead, and Hadrien’s just turned eighteen . . .”
“The burden of the crown will pass to me if King Wylding isn’t found in the next thirty days,” Hadrien finishes.
He seems to have aged several years since I saw him last, at his birthday. If he had been born just a few weeks later, the queen would be the one giving orders now.
But it seems I have no choice other than to follow Hadrien’s command.
“I spoke too rashly before. Forgive me. I’ll leave it to you to decide,” he adds softly, as though reading my thoughts. “I trust Jax and Simeon will do a fine job leading the search for the king, but if you really think you should stay, I’ll respect your choice.”
“I’m glad to hear you aren’t letting all that power go to your head, big brother.” Valoria chews on her lower lip as she studies the prince. “If it ever does, I’ll have to put you in your place, understand?” Her tone is light, but her eyes are somber.
Hadrien gives her a deep bow. “You have my word, Your Highness.” He straightens, grinning. “And should I fail, I shall throw myself upon the mercy of your blade.”
Shaking my head at their banter, I think of King Wylding’s shrouded figure lying prone in the grass, waiting for me to fetch his spirit. I think of the peace of the Deadlands he never gets for long, all for the sake of his people.
“I’ll go to Elsinor,” I announce. “He’d want that, as you said.” Twisting the newest pin on my tunic, I add, “I’ll need a partner for the journey. A fellow necromancer, in case I need to enter the Deadlands while I’m away.”
“Name your choice,” Hadrien says at once, his face relaxing somewhat now that I’ve agreed to his plan. “And Sparrow—” A note of longing breaks his voice, surprising me. “Choose wisely. It would kill me if anything happened to you.”
I don’t have to think long. “Master Cymbre.”
Now, more than ever, I need her guidance.
“Miss Crowther,” Hadrien calls. “You asked His Majesty about security jobs at the palace yesterday. You’re still in need of work?”
Meredy nods, a hint of pink appearing beneath her freckles. She marches to the bottom of the steps to face Hadrien, Lysander prowling alongside her.
I look a question at her, but she ignores me. I thought she’d be returning to Lorness any day now, once she’d convinced herself I wasn’t going to touch another drop of potion.
“I’ll pay you and your beast twice what you’d make as guards if you’ll accompany my Serpent to Elsinor,” Hadrien says evenly. “Will you protect her as she defends my people?”
“I don’t need any—” I protest, but Meredy interrupts.
“Accepted.” She props a hand on her hip, taking a long look at Hadrien. “But—forgive me, Highness—weren’t you one of the last people to see King Wylding before he went missing? I saw you two wandering the corridors this morning. You waved to me, remember?”
“Of course.” Hadrien’s expression doesn’t change. “But His Majesty and I parted ways just moments after we passed you. King Wylding was hungry, as the Dead often are, and headed for the kitchen to get a honey cake. I’ve no idea what happened after that . . . though I’m sure you weren’t trying to accuse me of anything.” He smiles a little stiffly as Meredy gazes placidly back at him, her feelings and thoughts well-hidden.
“I was simply suggesting that there may be some detail in your memory that’s been overlooked. Something that could help explain who took the king,” she says coolly. “A shadowy figure down the hall, an odd sound . . .”
“Rest assured, I take no offense,” Hadrien says swiftly. “We’re all on edge in the king’s absence.” He leans forward, the steps allowing him to tower over Meredy when there normally wouldn’t be much difference in height. “Still, I’m sure you’ll take excellent care of my Serpent. I have every confidence.”
The doors to the throne room rattle.