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

“There are so many of them.” I don’t think I realized what four hundred children would look like. It’s almost half the army Lord Telor brought to Ulysede’s gates! “Is this insane?”

“Yes, but oddly usual for you, as I learned in Norcaster,” Jarek mocks from behind me. “I count three guards escorting them. I will have to kill them.”

“In front of the kids?” I cast a look over my shoulder. “Come on.”

“Aren’t you the one who wanted to set a room full of hay on fire with them in it?”

I throw an elbow back, earning a soft grunt. “I’ll admit, that was a risky plan. But I didn’t think I’d have an inside person.” Gracen’s idea is much better. That Atticus put her in charge and ordered the guards to comply earns him a point or two, though I can still never forgive him.

I gasp as another familiar face appears. “Dagny!” The seamstress marches along, prattling away. She has no clue this is anything other than a garden walk.

They turn onto the main path. In the far distance, I can just make out the clutter of guards near the east wing, watching. I hope none of them decides to step in, to question or to join.

Jarek curses. “That’s the long way.”

“It’s the most obvious one. As long as they don’t go into the maze, we’ll be fine. Come on.” Grabbing hold of his forearm, I let the familiar adrenaline wash over me. We cut through the garden, quiet and unseen as we follow them.



“It’s time to turn around!” the guard closest to Gracen barks.

Shit. We’re only halfway to the nymphaeum.

Gracen bites her lip, and I can almost see the wheels turning in her mind, looking for excuses to continue. “But they’re enjoying themselves so much.”

“The cedar labyrinth is ahead. We aren’t taking them that far.”

“A labyrinth?” Mika exclaims.

The blond servant shushes him and then grabs onto his hand as if afraid he might bolt for it.

“It has to be now.” Jarek draws two throwing daggers from his belt, shifting his weight as he prepares to step out from behind the hedge. “I have the two on the left, you take out the one on the right.”

“What?”

“Aim for his neck, as we practiced.”

“I didn’t practice hitting guards in the neck!” I hiss.

“Do your best.”

I glare at him. “There are children here. I’m not throwing a dagger.” Drawing on a thread of Aoife, I conjure a water arrow in front of us that will pierce the guard just as well.

“That works too. In three … two …”

A bell tolls. Not the slow and somber one that marks the hour. A rushed and furious clang, as if someone is swinging the rope as hard as they can. “What does that mean?”

Jarek curses. “The city is under attack.”

“By whom?” Oh no. “Is that us?” Did Gesine and the legionaries get caught down by the port? If Gesine unleashes what she’s capable of … I lose my grip on Aoife’s thread and the arrow hits the grass with a splash. “What do we do?”

“We have our own task to complete. They will manage.” Jarek steps out and, with strength and skill that seems impossible, he launches the daggers through the air, followed by a third. All three guards hit the ground.

Children scream.

“It’s okay!” I run as hard as I can toward them, my hands up, praying we can get control of everyone before they scatter. On impulse, I peel my mask off to reveal the face some of them might recognize.

“Your Highness!” Dagny exclaims, rushing toward me, throwing her arms around my stomach in a hug so tight. “I thought I might never see ya again!”

Watching the friendly seamstress embrace me seems to calm many of the children, while others stare, dumbfounded by how I changed faces.

Jarek sweeps in, collecting his daggers and stirring new fears. Some children begin to cry.

“We’re not here to hurt you. We’re going to get you back together with your parents,” I say over the noise. Eventually.

A tall, skinny mortal man lingers nearby.

“Do you know where the nymphaeum is?” I ask.

“Yes, milady. I mean, Your Highness. Sort of, anyway.”

“Okay. Start leading them in that direction, as quickly as you can. That way.” I point to the route that doesn’t take them anywhere near the maze.

He bobs and bows and then begins ushering the children away. They follow like ducks after their mother, quiet and focused.

Gracen’s attention is on the dead guards. I can practically feel the guilt pouring from her.

“There’s not much we could do about them, but my plan would have cost more, so thank you for your help.”

The blond holding Lilou’s hand gasps. “You helped the Ybarisan traitor?” She glares at Gracen with contempt.

Gracen shakes her head. “She is not what you think, Sabrina. I promise. She saved the king’s life last night.”

The woman—Sabrina—looks suspiciously from me to Gracen. “You are betraying His Highness.” She lets go of Lilou’s hand and backs away. “I am not going anywhere with her. I am—” She steps into Jarek’s chest, her eyes wide with fear as she peers over her shoulder at him.

His jaw is taut. “You are coming with us or you will not leave this garden at all. Do not test me. We do not have time for that.”

“Jarek,” I warn steadily. Killing the guards was one thing, but killing this unarmed woman in front of the children will not end well.

Corrin marches up to her, her hands on her hips. “I was Queen Esma’s devoted lady maid. Are you foolish enough to believe that I would follow a traitor?”

Sabrina’s forehead furrows with uncertainty. The bell still tolls, a loud and frantic call to arms. Will it draw the guards away or out to us? We don’t have time to find out. “Sabrina, help us get all the children out of here safely and then if you want to stay behind in Cirilea, you’re welcome to. But I really don’t think you’ll want to.”

Her gaze flitters over the children as they follow the man. Finally, she nods.

One problem averted. “Let’s go.”



“Thank God,” I whisper to myself as the nymphaeum comes into view. The children are surprisingly quiet as we scurry across the field, little ones in the older kids’ arms. My affinities sit beneath my skin, coiled and waiting.

“Your Highness!” Dagny grabs my wrist. “My Dagnar is in the castle somewhere. Albe too. I need to go find them!”

“You can’t go back there. If the guards see you without the kids, they’ll question you.”

“I suppose you’re right. Of course, you are.” She worries her hands. “Do you think you could find them?”

“I’ve never met them. I don’t know what they look like.”

“Dagnar’s like me, only much bigger!” She emphasizes that with her hands above her head.

“Okay, I’ll try.” I feel Jarek’s glare on my back, but I ignore it. It’s the least I can do for the seamstress after she risked herself playing messenger for me.

She squeezes my forearm. “Bless you, Your Highness. I’ve missed you so.”

The bell continues to toll, a relentless gong. I’m desperate to get everyone through to Ulysede so I can come back to help Gesine and the others. I dread to know what they face.

The mortal man in the lead—Fikar, according to Gracen—reaches the stone first.