A Queen of Thieves & Chaos (Fate & Flame, #3)

“I told him I was buying off some guards to usher the castle staff through the royal garden to the nymphaeum. What?” I exclaim when Jarek’s expression turns flat. “He doesn’t need to be worrying about what I’m doing. He has enough going on at the rift.”

A knock sounds on the door and a moment later, Horik ducks his head to pass through, a small scroll in his hand. “It arrived by messenger bird.”

Jarek frowns. “From where? Who else knows we’re here?”

Horik shakes his head and hands it to me. “It’s sealed. Marked with an M.”

I’ve seen this seal before, on the letter Gesine sent to Margrethe, telling her to summon Malachi should anything happen to Princess Romeria. “Mordain’s scribes.”

“It found me. I spelled my letter to them with a tracer and hoped it would return. That writing on the outside is mine,” Gesine admits as I pass her the letter. She cracks the seal and unfurls it with urgent hands.

“What does it say?”

“Nothing we do not already know. Neilina is crossing at Hudem with an army. Many in Ybaris believe you are dead, executed by the king of Islor, and they wish to avenge your death as well as that of King Barris.” Her hands flop as if with disappointment. I’m not sure what else she was expecting.

“Anything else from Zander’s end?” Horik interrupted us while we were gleaning what we could through the taillok’s vision.

“He asked that you do what you must in Cirilea and then get back to Ulysede and remain there where you will be safe.”

“While he’s being attacked by Nulling monsters?” I wish there was a way to get to the rift in time.

“He is sending the taillok back now, but you’ve learned all you need, I think.”

“Then let me round up Loth and Zorya so we can come up with a plan,” Jarek says.

“And Pan. Don’t forget him.”

“I try to every day.” The two legionaries leave, and Gesine and I are alone.

“So … nothing in there about how you need to kill me?” I nod to the scroll. They didn’t know I was a key caster until Gesine sent that letter through Bellcross’s fake priestesses. Will their devotion to prophecy weaken?

“See for yourself.” She hands it to me.

I read both sides—Gesine’s original message and this Caster Agatha’s, who Gesine seems to trust beyond anyone else. There’s nothing in here unless it’s hidden between the lines. She left nothing out.

“Do you think they’ve figured out what Ulysede means?” One simple word scrawled at the bottom in a rush. That was the morning Ianca first said it, but we had no idea what she meant at the time.

“Master Scribe Agatha is wise. I would not put it past her, especially if news of the taillok’s visions reached her ears.”

Would they have had the same worries as Gesine had, about a key caster opening this secret nymph city and what it could mean for prophecy?

Gesine pauses, seems to choose her words. “Whether you like it or not, you are a caster and they are your people. You can choose to have some allies within Mordain or none, and I do not recommend the latter.” A sad expression takes over her face. “There will come a time, and soon, when you need their help.”

When Gesine is gone, she means. When I have no one to guide me through this new life, no one to interpret Lucretia’s double-sided words, to translate all the books with knowledge locked in a foreign tongue. But Mordain is not my concern right now, other than what they are about to do at the rift, and if they harm Zander, then I will become very much a concern for them, and not in a good way. “Maybe you’re right, but for now, I have you.”

She dips her head. “You have me until I can no longer serve, Your Highness.”

I leave the letter on the map table where it belongs for now—not a priority. Those trapped mortals are the only thing I care about today. “Ready to go back to Cirilea?”

She smiles. “Not in the slightest.”





CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN




ZANDER


With cautious hands, I affix the letter to the taillok’s leg, checking the strap twice to ensure it won’t slip. I have no idea if Gesine was paying attention when I held the parchment up to the beast. I hope she was. I imagine that information is needed sooner rather than later.

I step away and the taillok tips its head back to release that earsplitting caw.

Abarrane throws the tent door open in a panic, her sword drawn.

It darts past her and in seconds, it’s airborne, the beast’s powerful wings propelling it high into the sky.

“I’ve asked for a return message by dawn. Please warn the lookouts so they do not try to shoot it down. It has proven invaluable to us.”

“Romeria, even more so,” Elisaf says. “Thanks to her, we understand Islor’s current situation. We know what your brother’s plans are as far as an army.”

I sigh heavily. “Yes, and now that we know, there’s no reason for her to endanger herself more.” I wish she would remain in Ulysede.

“This urgency to get to your vault … Does it not seem off to you?”

“You mean that she would need my gold and jewels to bribe guards when she could fill her pockets with her own?” I chuckle. “This is Romeria. I am certain she is leaving important details out, and it’s likely something I would not agree with. That, or she is getting her wish to give all my money away to the people of the Rookery.” Her heart always bled especially for them.

“Jarek will take ten swords before he allows one to touch her. On that I stake my life,” Abarrane says. “Trust that her commander will keep her safe.”

“I pray you are right.”

“Did you tell her about that nymphaeum stone in Soldor?” Elisaf asks.

“If I did, and those stones are doorways through, what do you think she would do?”

He smirks. “Use it to get here faster, possibly before Hudem’s full moon.”

“Exactly. We may not have encountered any beasts in Soldor, but a key caster in there will surely draw things from the depths that we do not wish to even know about, let alone fight.”

“Still, we could use a caster’s abilities on our side, especially one as powerful as Romeria.”

“I know. But I fear what we are about to face may be beyond even her.”





CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT




ROMERIA


“Doors.” Gesine studies the nymph writing in Cirilea’s nymphaeum stone with awe, moments after we pass through from Ulysede. “So many years, so misunderstood. By everyone.”

“I have never met anyone so enthralled by these things,” Zorya says. She, on the other hand, fidgets with her dagger, seemingly rattled by the sudden relocation.

Gesine smiles. “You have not met Master Scribe Agatha.”

“And I do not plan to. One of you is more than enough.” There’s a slight teasing lilt in her tone, though.

“Let’s go. We have a plan,” Jarek orders, adding, “one that will likely go awry.”

“It’s a good plan! It will not go awry.”

He leads the seven of us through the royal garden, taking a different route than yesterday. The legionaries fan out, Pan sticking with Horik and Loth, Gesine with Zorya. We didn’t bother with the noble guises this time. Hiding one legionary is difficult. Four is impossible, especially when the king’s guard is likely looking for us. Cloaks and blades will have to do.