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“I didn’t want to tell you this because . . . Those two dragons—they are not as history knew them. Under the control of the High King, they have become mindless beasts for killing and destruction. And with them under the High King’s command, the balance of power has tilted dangerously in favor of the Obsidian court. Thea, the Obsidian court’s dominance is not just because of politics or their magic. It is the might of these dragons. It is the threat of these dragons that keeps the other courts in check, that makes the other courts comply with their demands.”
“Endreth,” Anthea looked at their combined hands on her lap. “But why tell me this now? What has changed?” She couldn’t shake the feeling there was still a lot he kept to himself—a lot he didn’t tell her. Giving her breadcrumbs, instead of the whole picture. But she couldn’t call him out on it, not when his trust in her was still so fragile. Not when she didn’t know if Alyra had repeated their conversations to these elves. Endreth’s eyes pierced into hers with an intensity that left her momentarily breathless. The rays of the setting sun painted a warm, orange hue over his beautiful face.
“The Crimson court has sought to unravel the mystery of the Obsidian court’s control over the dragons for centuries. They should not be able to control them like that—it is a secret Taranath guards well.” He caressed the back of her hands with his thumb. “There are some known texts containing the knowledge we desperately seek. But they are hidden away, or guarded with spells and impenetrable barriers. None from our court, or any other for that matter, have been able to bypass them.”
“That’s why . . . is that why you’ve been testing my resistance against these magical barriers?”
“Yes,” he murmured. “We have never encountered anyone with your kind of resistance to magic. If there is a chance, however slight, that you can get to these texts . . . it could change everything.”
So that was their end goal. Their cause. The reason they had been so keen on testing her and keeping her here. They wanted her to be their thief. Anthea knew she had to play her cards right; had to remember her own end goal. If there was a slight possibility that—that the dragons knew a way to travel between realms, a way for her to get back—Anthea had to make it part of the bargain. She pulled her hands away from Endreth’s, the warmth of his touch lingering on her skin as her gaze wandered to the door. “What is it that you have to do then?” She paused, deliberately, swallowing hard as she let a hint of uncertainty enter her eyes as she met his gaze again. “What did Aegonar mean when he said . . .”
Endreth seemed to wrestle with his thoughts for a moment before he continued, his fingers absently tracing patterns on her knees. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer. “Aegonar . . . he thinks I . . . Aegonar is certain you are ready to test the barriers guarding these books. I think you need a bit more time.”
“You know where they are?”
“Yes . . . they are in the vaults of the Cattleya court, heavily guarded by magic. Icarion—he is excessively protective of his treasures. The magical barriers and enchantments are extensive, believed to be impenetrable. Only members of his family are allowed in the vaults.”
“But he said you are running out of time—Aegonar—he said that it needs to be done soon.”
“There is an opportunity—there will be a celebration in the Cattleya court in a month,” Endreth said, pausing to watch her for a moment before continuing. “The festival is one of the most significant summer festivals in Isluma. It celebrates the goddess Amiteth, who shines the brightest in the night skies come mid-year. This year, the elven courts gather at the Cattleya court. We can take you there then,” he added, his eyes moving to the window.
“So you’re asking me to be your thief while pretending to be your slave? You’re asking me to sneak into Icarion’s vaults at his court? And how do you supposed I do that?”
“Thea, I just . . . You will not be alone. We will prepare, we will plan, and I will do everything in my power to keep you safe.” He grasped the back of her knees with his hands. Anthea studied his face, she believed him. He didn’t want her to be hurt. The realization startled her?—
“Were you honest with me, Endreth? About the dragons possibly knowing a way to travel between realms?”
“You need to understand—the Crimson court knows very little about the dragons—” The prince glanced at the sea outside, thumbs drawing circles on her legs. “But yes, it is believed they have the ability to traverse between the realms,” he said, voice strong, eyes on hers again.
Relief washed over her, mingling with a surge of excitement that she struggled to contain. “Okay. I’ll do it.”
“Are you certain about this?”
“If there’s even a tiny chance these books could help me return home, I’ll take it. I’ll do whatever it takes.”
“This will not be easy. You will have to study the Cattleya court’s castle like the back of your hand. Every corridor, every corner, every possible exit. You must know them all, for there can be no room for hesitation when the time comes.”
She nodded, her mind already racing with possibilities. She would see her sisters again.
“We have a bit of time,” he added, his gaze drifting away from hers to the sea again.
A month—It was a short time, yet it seemed like an eternity. Her heart pounded in her chest at the thought of what was to come. Home. There might be a way for her to get home. “I understand, Endreth. I’ll be ready.”
19
When the day of their departure arrived, a flurry of activity washed over the Crimson court. Servants darted back and forth, final preparations being made, luggage being loaded, last-minute instructions being passed along.
Anthea packed her things into a small leather bag Miriel had given her along with a traveling coat, thick and warm, and a few comfortable dresses tucked into a separate bag. The dresses for the parties at the Cattleya court were already taken care of—they had been packed separately.
Endreth appeared in her doorway, his auburn hair gleaming in the soft morning light, his blue eyes finding hers. He was dressed in a long, deep blue coat with golden embroideries. He looked every bit the prince he was—he looked beautiful.
“We’ll be taking a ship to the Cattleya court,” he told her as he looked around the small room. His eyes paused on the modest bed, the single chair, the table with the now-folded blueprints—the blueprints of the Cattleya’s castle Anthea had studied for the past month. They had prepared strenuously. She had spent more time in his study and less time in the servants’ quarters, which gave her fewer opportunities to run into Alyra. She hadn’t seen the elf for the whole month, and she was glad about it. Endreth had even taught her to use a quill to make her own notes on the blueprints. Her writing had been messy at first, but the Crimson prince was a patient tutor, guiding her hands with his, making sure she held the quill right.
“Are you ready?”
She nodded, taking his outstretched hand, its cool grip grounding her. The thought of leaving the walls of the Crimson court’s castle for the first time in over four months filled her with a strange mix of giddiness and anxiety. She was finally getting out. Finally leaving the stone walls. But they were going to the Cattleya’s court—to the elven court notorious for their collection of human slaves, notorious for their cruelty in handling said slaves. Anthea had prepared, she was ready—and yet, she couldn’t help the small glimmer of dread within her. She had never done anything as dangerous as this.
Outside, a rush of fresh, crisp air hit her, filling her senses with the fragrance of blossoms and the distinct tang of the sea. The castle’s side entrance opened onto a pathway lined with white stone arches covered in blooming vines that hung heavily with lilac flowers, their petals dancing lightly in the morning breeze.
