“What favor?” Evelayn repeated, her terror returning along with a pulsating sense of dread.
“Ah, that is the crucial question, isn’t it?” Máthair Damhán inched toward her, lowering the silk until it was almost within her reach. “You must promise me this favor without knowing what it is, believing only that I, too, long for balance. I will aid you in your quest today to stop the Dorjhalon King, but in return, you will aid me when it is time.”
Evelayn’s heart pumped uncertainly in her chest, her hands clammy once more. An unknown favor given to an Ancient by a queen of éadrolan? What could Máthair Damhán possibly need from her? The stone in her breast burned hot, almost as if it was trying to warn her.
But what choice did she have? Without the silk she was certain to fail. With it, she had the chance to stop Bain. She’d told her council that surely an Ancient would wish to maintain peace and balance in their world—and it seemed that Máthair Damhán did indeed want balance. But what frightened Evelayn was that she had never heard a story of power being stolen for the Draíolon from the Ancients. What exactly was Máthair Damhán’s definition of balance?
Everything inside her felt cold, except for the burning stone, when Evelayn finally said, “One favor.”
The Mother of Spiders presented the skein to her with another curl of her black lips. It was lighter than Evelayn could have ever imagined; it felt as though she were cradling a cloud in her hands. Smoother than water, but strong enough to entrap even a Draíolon as powerful as the King of Dorjhalon. There was nothing in all of Lachalonia that was its equal. “Thank you,” she murmured and then turned to the mouth of the cave. She’d begun to walk away but paused when the Ancient spoke again.
“Use it well, little queen,” Máthair Damhán said, a note of warning in her voice, “for you may find it came at a higher price than you had anticipated.”
Evelayn whirled to look at the Ancient again, but when she faced the tunnel there was nothing but shadow and the faint remnant of Máthair Damhán’s scent.
ONCE SHE WAS OUTSIDE IN THE LIGHT, EVELAYN tucked the precious silk into her knapsack and tried to ignore the nagging sense that she had made a terrible mistake. But if she hadn’t made the deal, she would have returned empty-handed. It would only have been a matter of time before King Bain succeeded in killing her, and her people would lose their power—possibly forever. She’d never heard of any Draíolon other than a direct descendant of a royal being born with a conduit stone. Which was what had spurred High Priestess Teca’s lecture about being Bound and producing an heir, she knew.
But Máthair Damhán’s claim that the power had once only belonged to the Ancients had shaken her. Where had the conduit stones come from—and why did they only pass from royals to their children?
The hike back to Tanvir and Kel was a blur. She was vaguely aware of a throbbing pain in her head and the heat of the sun on her neck and face. Her gaze was trained on the treacherous path, so she didn’t see the concern on the two males’ faces until she was nearly to them and finally looked up.
Kel watched her in that direct, disconcerting way of his, not betraying any sort of reaction. Tanvir, however, took a half step toward her. When their gazes met, a shadow of dismay darkened his expression.
“You weren’t successful?”
“I have the silk.”
A look of confusion crossed Tanvir’s face before he broke into an exultant smile. “You did it? You have it?”
“Yes.”
He cocked his head to the side, his eyebrows pulled down slightly. “I’m not sure I understand … Why aren’t you celebrating?”
“I … I am just in shock, I think.” Evelayn stumbled through her response. She didn’t want to tell him or Kel what she’d done—what she’d promised. A favor to Máthair Damhán. You may find it came at a higher price than you had anticipated … the Ancient’s warning burrowed beneath her skin, a painful burr that kept her from smiling.
“If we hurry, perhaps we can still make it back before the gap closes, Your Majesty,” Kel finally spoke up, thankfully not commenting on her lack of excitement at achieving her goal.
Evelayn squinted up at the sky. The sun was past its zenith, but not by far. The negotiation had been quicker than anticipated. Perhaps … if they sprinted the entire way back to the border …
“I’ll take the lead.” Evelayn took off at a dead run and didn’t glance back at the White Peak—or the black tear halfway up the pale stone where Máthair Damhán waited for the day she would call in her favor.
Evelayn ran harder than she ever had before, until the sweat poured over her eyes and down her neck, soaking through her clothes. She didn’t turn to see if Kel and Tanvir were keeping up or not. She didn’t watch for Dark Draíolon waiting to attack. She just ran.
The forest had begun to fall into shadow once more when they burst out of the trees, the border in sight. The priestesses had been instructed to leave a gap in the wards until sundown of the fourth day. The sun was already sinking below the western horizon. Evelayn’s breath came out in harsh gasps as she kicked up her heels and extended her stride even more.
Almost there, almost there.
She just hoped sundown meant after the sun had completely set to the priestesses, not as soon as it reached the horizon.
Evelayn was only a few feet away from the border when she slowed, hesitating slightly. She wasn’t sure what would happen to her if the wards were back in place …
“Your Majesty!”
Evelayn barely heard the shout over the roar of her blood in her ears and the harsh gasps of her breathing. There’s no time for fear.
“Evelayn!”
She sprinted right past the border into éadrolan.
With a cry of triumph—and relief—Evelayn whirled to face Dorjhalon. Kel and Tanvir emerged from the forest, but Kel’s arm was around Tanvir’s shoulders and they were moving in a strange half limp, half jog toward her, with Tanvir doing most of the work and Kel doing most of the limping.
Tanvir glanced up and a grin broke across his face, even though he was sweating and straining with the effort of dragging Kel toward her. “You made it!” He called out.
“What happened?” Evelayn shouted back, stepping closer to the border once more.
“No! Stay there!” Kel was the one who yelled this time.
She glanced at the western horizon and her heart sank in dismay. The sun had nearly set, the last curve of its fiery girth was barely visible above the tree line. Hurry, hurry!
They were only a few steps away when there was a draw of power through her stone; at the same time she felt a surge of power in front of her.
“Wait!”
But they were already dashing across the border—or into it, rather. Tanvir and Kel were both blasted backward, landing with two dull thuds on the barren ground in Dorjhalon.