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

“What does it say?”

He hands it to me without a word.

Looking forward to our next game of draughts. Atticus.

“What the hell does that mean?”

“That he will never trust anything you say.”

I grit my teeth. “There’s a war coming. We’re trying to help him, and he’s still hung up on that?” I wave the letter, anger flaring. “And I did not sleep with him!”

Horik’s bushy eyebrows pop.

I sigh, trying to calm my frustration. “Your brother is an idiot.”

Zander’s mouth twitches. “Yes, he is. But we have honored Islor with our attempt to aid him. Now, his mistakes are his own.”

Gesine guides the taillok into its cage and pulls the cloth over, then sighs heavily. “Thank the fates that is over for now.” She rubs her temple as if a headache pains her.

“I expect the taillok to find me at the second dawn with an update from Romeria,” Zander declares, “and I will swiftly send a message in return.”

“I will ensure it arrives safely to you. Now, I have found an entire section in the library on mythical beasts, so if you have no other need for me, I will bid you farewell, Your Highness.” She bows and then meets Zander’s eyes. “Stay safe, and perhaps we will meet again.”

He watches the caster as she glides away, but I can’t read that look. She’s been at our side every day since we met her in the apothecary, and he’s expressed every emotion for her from open hostility to tepid alliance, but never trust. Given her connection to Mordain, that may be forever a lost cause.

“The queen will be safe within these gates. On my honor,” Jarek promises, offering Zander a curt bow before stepping away. Horik, Zorya, and Loth follow his lead, giving us space to say our goodbyes.

The painful knot in my throat flares as I reach for Zander’s hand, squeezing it. “The taillok will be there in two mornings. Promise you will be too.”

“With everything in my power, I will be there.” He pulls my body into his in a rare show of public affection. “If you learn of anything from Lucretia, however insignificant it may seem, share it with me.”

“I will.”

He leans down until our foreheads touch, his jaw clenching. “You dwell not only in my every waking thought but also in my dreams. And we will see each other again, soon.”

Tears slip and I don’t bother to wipe them away. Let Abarrane mock me if she dares. “You will see me again. In, like, three days, when I learn how to fly.”

His chuckles break the tense moment, and then his mouth crashes into mine, abandoning all his kingly decorum to kiss me deeply.

I cling to his shoulders and savor the taste and feel of his tongue against mine for as long as I can, until he tears his mouth free and pulls away, stepping back.

Our fingertips are the last to touch.

And then he’s in his saddle and his horse is cantering away to join the others.

My tears flow freely as I watch the small company ride off, Elisaf and Abarrane at Zander’s flanks, and I feel like part of my heart is riding off with them. The part that keeps me alive.

A dull whack against the back of my knees has me howling and spinning around, fury twisting my features. “What?”

“Come on.” Jarek twirls his blade. “Time to train.”





CHAPTER THIRTY




AGATHA


“A secret city in Islor’s mountains.” Allegra repeats my words.

“Yes. That is what the taillok saw.”

Her eyes flare, but she tempers her shocked expression, glancing around to ensure no one is listening. We’re high in the parapets, with a bird’s-eye view of Nyos and the port below, where the ships prepare passage of our casters to join Ybaris’s war. “Okay, tell me what Yesenia saw.”

“What did she actually see? Or what did she tell the queen she saw?” I relay Lorel’s words. “Yesenia and Gesine are friends. I will wager she helped with the escape.”

“So she might hold back details.”

“If they could prove harmful to our cause, yes.” Namely, that the Princess Romeria at the gates is no longer her daughter.

That she is a key caster.

“I am sure it must be this Ulysede.” My whisper is full of excitement. That single word scrawled in a rush on the bottom of Gesine’s letter. It all makes sense.

“Do not sound so thrilled, Agatha!” Allegra hisses, her panic rising. “Stonekeep was a wall of nymph scripture and now it is a city, and we must assume the key caster opened it. Can you appreciate what this means?”

“Far more than anyone else in Nyos.” An edge lines my tone. “The nymphs will walk these lands again in the time of the casters. It is prophecy.”

“And what else might walk alongside them?” The Second paces. “We cannot wait for a response from Gesine any longer.”

“And what would you recommend we do, then? Go to the council with this?”

“Fates, no.” She scoffs. “Lorel will run to the queen and blame us. The queen will execute us for treason and use the elementals to summon the fates again. No, that is not a choice we can consider.” She shakes her head to emphasize her words, her gaze narrowed on the ships below. “There is no other choice. We must go to this Ulysede ourselves.” She spins, her finger pointed. “You must go.”

“Me?” I laugh. She must be joking. “I cannot leave Nyos.”

“Why not? You have gone on excursions, all across Ybaris and Skatrana. You were even in Seacadore once.”

“Yes, many years ago. Besides, the Prime has assigned me a task of sifting through prophecy for answers.”

“Which you have no plans to give her, anyway.”

“But if I leave, she will grow suspicious.”

“This is a task she has given to you in secrecy, yes? I am not supposed to know about it.”

“Yes.”

Allegra bites her bottom lip in thought, and my fear swells. What web is her deceptive little mind weaving? “As a Second, I order you to escort my two elementals to Argon. The Prime cannot counter that without an explanation, one she will not wish to give. There, you will find Yesenia, glean what more you can from her, and then, instead of returning to Nyos, you will make your way to the rift with the caravan. When they cross, you go west.”

“But … but …” I sputter. “I am eight decades old, Allegra! I am no longer built for traipsing across the realms, especially not in the middle of a war!”

“Exactly. An old scribe. No one will find threat in you. And you are not as feeble as you paint yourself to be.” Allegra closes in, her face earnest. “There is no one else who knows more about prophecy than you. Mordain needs a bridge to Ulysede.”

“Gesine is that bridge.”

“No, Gesine is an elemental caster who could go through the change at any time.”