In the war room, we stare at the map of Tenebris. “What if we were able to sneak an explosive into the camp?” Thane asks.
“Before we left New Stygarde, we learned Nevina set up a magical boundary around the castle, along with a military boundary. A talented warrior might get lucky and sneak in, but if they trigger her spell, they’ll have a hard time getting out again. If they’re caught, our entireoperation will be in jeopardy. No explosive at our disposal is strong enough to take out enough men to make it worth our own.”
We both turn as the door flies open and Tempest rushes in, covered in blood. A bad feeling lands in the pit of my stomach.
“You’re hurt. Damien, fetch the healer!” Thane takes her into his arms.
“I don’t need a healer,” she says, throwing him off. “My wounds have already healed. Most of this is from the stag.”
“The stag? I thought you were obtaining meat for the kitchen, not wearing it,” I say, relieved she’s not hurt.
She groans, balling her hands into fists. “I took Stuart with me to meet the ship delivering our provisions. When we returned, we opened one of the crates in the safe room, like we always do, just to make sure our shipment hadn’t been tampered with.”
“Wise. It wouldn’t be beyond reason for the enemy to hide in one of the crates.”
“Exactly. Unfortunately, we proved the need for our protocols.” The look she gives us is devastated.
“No…” Thane says.
She turns toward me. “We aren’t trusting around here and always test the shipments in a secure location below the Maiden’s Voyage. I open them with a long crowbar and shift immediately, while Stuart guards me from the opposite side, daggers ready. If we hadn’t been on our toes, one of us could have been killed. As it was, Stuart was left with an incredible mess to clean up, and the entire shipment had to be destroyed.”
Thane closes his eyes and runs a hand over his face. “No food for the men.”
“How much do we have in store?” I ask.
“Enough for a week at least, if we ration,” Tempest says.
“Is it possible to send a contingent into the forest to hunt?”
She shakes her head. “The entire city is crawling with New Stygarde soldiers. Thank the goddess we’ve already received our supply of weapons from Mount Damocles, or I’m sure those shipments would be a liability as well. Brahm is convinced you have to be here. He knows I have a soft spot for you. They’ve searched everywhere else. Even the witches of Dimhollow allowed them to look for you in their village once you were long gone and they’d hidden your mother and sister. Banias has been searching for us, Thane and me. If he finds us, he’ll question us, and his methods will not be merciful.”
I pace the room and then grab my sword and sheath and head for the door.
“Damien, where are you going?”
“To follow my wife’s advice and try to make a friend,” I mumble.
“What?”
“An idea. Maybe nothing. Maybe something. If Eloise returns while I’m gone, tell her to wait here for me.”
“Damien?” Tempest reaches for me. But I shift and surf the shadows before I change my mind.
I arriveat the Rivertoad caravan at moonset and snake my shadow form under the wagons and between the narrow canvas walls of the tent. I wait and I watch. Rivertoads come and go, singing and dancing and eating Maggie’s food. Hours pass before I see Jaqual.
No one would mark him as a king. He blends in with the others, his clothing tailored but made of scraps of leather, sewn together as if nothing could go to waste, with those cheap strings of multicolored beads in his hair, around his neck, around his wrists. And the eye, waiting, watching, on top of his shirt. He doesn’t favor any single group of his people. It fascinates me. No noble class. No social hierarchy. He mills from table to table, talking with everyone, singing when asked to, dancing when the mood strikes him. And I notice something else, something I noticed the first time we were here. He does not drink the ale.
His eyes remain as sharp as his weapons.
He is the first to notice me when I form inside the tent. And when he approaches me, his hand is on his blade. The music stops, and every Rivertoad in the place turns to stare. “I thought we’d said everything there was to say to each other, Prince Damien, or have you decided to trade that lovely bride of yours after all?”
I refuse to take the bait. Offering a shallow smile, I meet the man’s eyes and speak to him as an equal. My voice is low, steady, and respectful as I say, “King Jaqual, please excuse the interruption. I’ve come to seek your counsel on an important political matter. I know our people have not always shared the best of relations, but I hope to change that. Will you meet with me?”
His sneer fades into a teasing smile, until he sees I’mserious and matches my expression. He trails three fingers through the air, and the band starts up again. “Follow me.”
We walk to one of the wagons near the middle of the western-facing spoke, and he shows me inside. It’s a moderate wagon with a purple and red interior. At first, I assume it’s a random one he uses for meetings, but his scent is everywhere. “Do you live here?”
He glares at me. “Not up to your standards?”
