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

Master Scribe Agatha. It’s a wonder she remembers who I am. Does she know Gesine was my mentee? I push that fear aside. I would already be clutching my throat for air, if she had any idea. “Such is the plight of a simple caster, Your Highness.”

Queen Neilina hasn’t aged a day. Maybe there is a small crease here, a single gray hair there, but it would be too minute to pick out. She is still devastatingly beautiful, with cheekbones that should cut through skin, and irises as icy as the waters high in the mountains of Skatrana, a stunning contrast to her inky-black hair and creamy, pale skin. Normally gold would not complement such a complexion, and yet her shimmering dress flatters her, as does the gleaming gold chunk of antler fastened around her neck—the largest token anyone in Mordain has ever laid eyes upon. It appeared there one day with a vague explanation about a gift from a Udralian emperor, and she has worn it devotedly ever since, in its raw form. What its purpose is, no one knows. If Neilina does, she has never shared it with anyone. Perhaps we should have paid closer attention to the fact that it materialized around the same time Neilina announced a coming heir.

The throne beside Neilina sits empty, glaringly so.

I liked King Barris. I heard him address Ybaris and Mordain on several occasions. He was soft-spoken—unexpectedly so for a king—and yet he carried himself with such grace, all would stop to listen.

Standing at Queen Neilina’s side is Commander Caedmon Tiberius, a handsome and fierce-looking immortal. It’s a blessing to the queen that her daughter inherited all of her fine looks and none of her father’s. It would have been much harder to hide Princess Romeria’s true lineage had the girl been born with the commander’s blond locks.

“Bring my new elementals forward,” she commands.

I urge Beatrix and Cressida forward with a nod. They glide toward the bottom of the dais, to kneel as they were taught.

Queen Neilina rises from her throne and strolls down the steps, her shimmering gold gown dragging behind her willowy frame. “Stand and show me your arms.”

They do as asked, pulling their sleeves up to reveal the glowing symbols.

“Aoife and Aminadav. Both of them.” Her voice rings with displeasure.

“They are the only two elementals in Nyos who are remotely ready.” And even they are far too young.

She sniffs. “I suppose they will do.” She sizes them both up and then calls out, “Collar, now.”

A servant comes forth, a pillow balanced within his grasp as if presenting a crown.

“You. Come forth.” Queen Neilina’s attention is locked on Beatrix, who takes a shaky step forward and lifts her chin.

The queen secures the gold collar around her slender neck and pushes the two ends together. The click is loud and ominous. “There. You may go to your room now.”

Wait a minute. “Your Highness, Caster Cressida requires a collar as well.”

“Do you have one handy?” she asks crisply. “Because I do not. Two were stolen from me. Now I must endure the risk of an uncollared elemental caster in my midst. I do hope your guild trained her better than they did those other two.”

Yes, a young and impressionable elemental, perhaps easier to break. I would hazard that using her last collar on the older of the two was not a coincidence.

“You have nothing to fear of Cressida, Your Highness. She knows her place is here in Argon. No amount of manipulating will persuade her to break her sacred oath. She would rather forfeit her own life.”

The queen’s eyes narrow, and for a moment, I’m afraid I’ve admitted to knowing too much. “Thank you for your escort, Caster. I shall retire now. I suggest you two do as well. We leave for the rift at dawn.”

Fates. “You do not mean to bring them to war, do you?”

“Are you questioning my judgment?” she snaps.

I will not survive the hour if I don’t get a handle on my tongue. “I am simply wondering if remaining in the tower would be more beneficial for their adjustment period. They are still young and inexperienced.”

Her smile is wicked. “Do not worry. From what I’ve heard of Islor’s current state, I do not expect much of a resistance.”

“Your Highness.” I bow again as she strolls away, her clicking heels an echo.

She didn’t mention her missing children even once.

“Come, girls. Let us get you settled in.” Though there doesn’t seem much point.



My lungs are puffing by the time we reach the floor where the young elementals will be staying.

“This will be yours.” Caster Elowen presents the small, windowless room with two cots adorned by white cotton sheets. A lantern burns on the nightstand between them, and another on the small four-drawer dresser. The only thing to distinguish it from a prison cell is the solid oak door rather than bars, but it can lock from the outside as needed, all the same.

Beatrix smooths a fingertip over a tiny vertical line scratched into the stone wall. There are dozens, as if a person was keeping count of something. “Whose room was this?”

“Caster Gesine and Ianca were the last to occupy this room,” Elowen confirms with pursed lips. What she thinks of the two escaped elementals, I can only guess. She was once a pupil of Nyos and possibly even of mine, but if she was, I do not recall her face.

The two young girls share an uneasy glance. Even with a channel between land, I’m sure whispers have reached all corners of Mordain by now.

I clap my hands, trying to remain upbeat while foreboding hangs thick in the air. These girls were babes when they were taken from their parents. Nyos is all they’ve known. Now, they will remain in Argon’s elemental caster tower until the change takes them. Maybe they’ll make it back to Mordain one day, but I will be long gone from the realm of the living by then. “Casters, let me help get you settled in, then.” I wave a hand at the servants, and they drop the crate that holds the girls’ meager belongings before departing.

“I would normally give you the tour, but it is very late, and we are all leaving in the morning. It doesn’t seem to make sense, does it?” Elowen gestures out the door. “The latrine is down the hall and to your left. The tower’s dining room is on the ground floor. Morning meal will be served two hours before dawn. I would dress appropriately for our travels, with layers. It is normally three days’ journey to the rift from here, but we can plan to arrive in half that time if we do not stop.”

I stifle my complaints. I have yet to secure passage for this grueling adventure.

“Master Scribe, may I show you to your bed for the night?”

“I would very much like that, but first, allow me a moment to bid my farewells.”

“Of course.”

The moment Elowen is out of sight, Beatrix grabs my forearm. “War? They’re sending us to war?” Of the two of them, she is the more skilled, but the weaker in connection to her affinities.

“You heard Her Highness. She is not concerned.” Because life is only as valuable to her as she can expend it, I want to say. That will do no one any good to hear. “You will be fine. Your elemental sisters will take care of you.”