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

Both lines watch the other, waiting.

“Which king are you? The exiled one or the usurper?” a female at the front calls out, her husky voice hinting at humor. “We hear Islor can’t decide.”

I can only imagine what they’ve heard through their spies—a medley of lies mixed with some truth. “You must be Solange.” I watch her eyes flare. She’s wondering how I knew that, and what else I might know about her. “I did not realize the queen needed people to speak for her. Is she incapable or afraid?”

The taunt works. The line of Shadows shifts and Queen Neilina guides her white stallion forward, her metallic dress shimmering gold and silver in the sunlight.

My breath catches. Romeria—the old version—once told me she looked a lot like her mother. That was an understatement. Romeria is a nearly identical replica, only youthful. It’s as if Aoife created a second version of her. In appearance, anyway.

Golden antlers are strung around her neck like jewelry. I’ve never seen a token so large before. What purpose it serves, I’m not sure I want to find out.

A caster came forward with Neilina, the telltale collar around her neck marking her an elemental. I can’t see the emblems on her forearm to discern her affinities, but her blue eyes glow. I can only assume she’s placed a protective shield in front of the queen.

“You must be Zander.” Her cold, piercing blue gaze dissects me. “Have you come to negotiate the surrender of Islor?”

I laugh. “Only you would be foolish enough to think so.”

Her returning smile is vicious, and I change my mind—Romeria looks nothing like this wraith. “Where is my beloved daughter? What have you done with her?”

I would love to provoke her with false horrors, but it wouldn’t be wise. “She is safe.”

Her perfectly drawn eyebrow arches. “In that gated city in your mountains?”

I keep my expression smooth. We already assumed she might have learned something through the taillok. The question is, how much? Did she hear that Romeria’s eyes blazed silver? “Where no one can reach or harm her.”

Her mouth seems to work around the words, but she doesn’t release them. She has questions about Ulysede or Romeria—or both—that much is obvious.

I’m not here to answer them. “Your son, on the other hand, I doubt he fares as well.”

Her lips curve as if she has a secret. “On the contrary, I just heard from the true king of Islor that Tyree is betrothed to your sister, Princess Annika.”

I can’t catch my shock fast enough, but I follow it with a genuine burst of laughter. What the fuck are you doing, Atticus? He must have offered the arrangement to keep Neilina on her side of the rift. Has he learned nothing of her deceitfulness? At least that confirms Tyree is still alive. Atticus kept him as a bargaining chip.

Neilina cocks her head. “Why does that amuse you so?”

“Considering how your family handles engagements, I would say the chances are slim of that one coming to fruition either.” Annika is likely to stab him the first chance she gets. “By the way, thank you for your taillok. Caster Gesine is adept at wielding it. It has been most helpful to us.”

Neilina’s eyes ignite with anger. “Why am I not surprised those traitors ran to you?”

They didn’t. They ran to your daughter. “Tell me, if Gesine and Ianca are traitors, what does that make you, given you broke Mordain’s sacred vow and forced Ianca to summon Aoife? Or what about how you murdered your husband?”

Neilina’s mask doesn’t break this time. She must have been expecting the accusations. “What did you think you would do? Meet me here to insult me and spew filthy lies, and my people would believe you, one of Malachi’s demons?”

Not for long. “Your people. Interesting. They were King Barris’s people first, were they not? You married into the throne. And they did love him so. I wonder what they would say if they knew the truth behind his murder. As for Mordain, I was under the impression that it was an independent realm with its own guild of intelligent and powerful casters, capable of governing itself.”

“We have a mutually beneficial arrangement,” Neilina says crisply.

“Is that what it is? It seems to me they are nothing more than instruments and slaves. But imagine how Mordain could fare with a different queen, one who would respect its independence.” That last part, I say for Solange’s benefit.

The Second’s gaze narrows as she watches me.

What does she know?

Neilina’s teeth grit. “It is clear you have not come to surrender, and you have wasted enough of my time. Norae, come.”

The elemental dips her head.

The Ybarisan queen turns her horse and cuts through the lines, her back to us. “Shadows … Rid me of these pests. It’ll deliver a powerful blow to the rest of the fools about to die.”

We draw our weapons and position our shields. My pulse races in my ear. “Did you hear that, Solange? Yet another order to follow from the Ybarisan queen who doesn’t value your lives beyond how she can wield your power. There is a way out of this, a better option for Mordain.”

I catch a spark of interest in Solange’s gaze as the other Shadows wait for their leader’s command.

Before she can give it, an ear-piercing roar cuts through the sky.





CHAPTER SEVENTY




ROMERIA


Wind whips at my face while we soar through the clear blue sky, coasting over Islor’s daunting mountain range as if they are nothing more than bumps on a map.

I’m cocooned protectively within Caindra’s grasp, clinging to a talon that looks sharp as a blade but does not cut me. She’s surprisingly gentle, holding on only tight enough that I can’t slip free.

At some point, I realized she had collected Jarek, too, and I’m relieved, though he doesn’t look as comfortable in the other claw. He hangs on to a talon, his legs dangling as if he might slip through her grip and plunge to his death at any moment. His face is drained of blood.

I imagine the difference in our treatment might have something to do with his calling her a beast several times. I can’t wait to poke fun at him about it later when we are safely on the ground again.

Hudem’s moon is out, sitting below the regular full moon. It’s still dim but once the sun sets, it will bathe these dark lands in brilliant light.

And yet there is nothing to celebrate tonight.

I’m finally getting used to the feel of flying when Caindra dives, and I scream, holding tighter to her as we approach the rift. I’ve only ever seen drawings of it and heard the stories. The real version is even more menacing—a yawning chasm in the world. It makes me wonder how the two sides didn’t split apart and float away.

Dark masses swarm both sides.

Somewhere down there are people I care about.

People I love.

Shouts of alarm sound and soldiers scramble to get into position. It’s pointless against Caindra. Arrows can’t penetrate these scales. Hopefully, I can convince them to hold off and not attack.