When I threw the Eye into Queen Hydra’s portal, I wasn’t thinking about where I was sending it, only that I needed to get it as far away from King Balen as possible. Yet I realized that if its location was determined by my subconscious, then it must be somewhere of significance. I spent weeks poring over the possibilities, until eventually it came to me.
The Lagoon.
The Aquatori court at the foot of the Waterlands. Where better to send the Eye than my future home, a place Queen Hydra called her haven? And what better way to earn my crown than by finding the talisman she died protecting?
The plan itself is fairly simple. It’s pulling it off that’s going to be the tricky part.
‘Are you sure you want to gothroughthe Ridge?’ Flint asks, handing me his empty waterskin. ‘Because I still think the Creek is our best bet for, you know,surviving.’
I sigh. ‘We’ve been over this. If we go by boat, we’ll be expected to present our identification papers at each checkpoint. We’re hardly going to slip by unnoticed.’
‘Ah, yes,’ says Flint, reaching out to catch his full waterskin as I throw it back to him. ‘The new Queen of the Aquatori and her dashing, half-blind brother. You’re right, sister mine. Blending in never has been our strong suit.’
I roll my eyes as I help myself to a plum.
Our plan is to travel to the province of Isolla, which sits in the shadow of the Ridge – the red sandstone mountain range that stretches along the border between Queen Yvainne’s lands and Queen Aspen’s. Though now, I suppose, Ember’s lands and … well,notFox’s. Perhaps Hal, as the new emperor, will award the Terrathian crown to Amaryllis instead. She was the runner-up, after all.
I think of the way Fox had toyed with her before his vines found purchase, dragging her through a field of nettles and stringing her up like a puppet, pulling tighter and tighter until I heard the sharppopof her shoulder dislocating.
I gasp in pain as I bite right through the fruit and into my tongue. Clearing my throat before Flint can ask me what’s wrong, I offer a weak ‘We’ll be fine.’
‘Funny, I thought Caius Castellion had the Eye of the Future,’ Flint says dryly. ‘How can you possibly know that we won’t lose our way and wander through the Ridge tunnels until we meet a very claustrophobic, very underwhelming end?Orget eaten alive by whatever terrifying creatures are said to live there. Snakes? Fire ants? Five-foot flesh-eating spiders? I’d rather not lose another body part, if it’s all the same to you.’
‘Not going to happen,’ I say with far more confidence than I feel.
Once dry, we dress in the Fidra clothes Caleb managed to source for us. Fidra – those without magic – are easily distinguishable from Etheri, as they do not wear an elemental court colour. This way, we’ll be able to slip under the radar. The shirts are scratchy but clean, the trousers ill-fitting, the riding boots scuffed and well worn.
Flint wrinkles his nose. ‘I suspect someone may have died in this,’ he says, fastening the buttons on his leather jerkin.
‘You’re as bad as Spinner.’
‘If by that you mean I have excellent taste in clothes, then I agree with you.’
I roll up a cloak and stuff it into my satchel before tossing him the other. He catches it reluctantly, then bends down to retrieve his soiled red doublet, stroking the gold embroidery wistfully.
‘Your sacrifice is noted,’ I tell him, prising it from his hands and tossing it on top of my gown. ‘Now, I think you should burn them.’
Flint turns away, fiddling with the arrows in his sheaf.
I frown. ‘Hello? Flint? We don’t want to leave a trace.’
‘We also don’t want to draw attention,’ he says a little stiffly, swiping the clothes back and concealing them behind a large boulder.
I shrug. ‘Have it your way.’
Together we pack up our supplies and set off again, riding until the sun dips low. Flint finds us a cave, and I wrap my arms round myself, my stillness making me suddenly aware of the chill in the air. That’s the thing about the Firelands – scorching-hot days, icy-cold nights – both extremes havingbeen intensified by the slaughter of the Council, which angered the elements in ways never seen before.
‘Aren’t you going to light a fire?’ I ask my brother. ‘It’s freezing.’ I huff out a breath for emphasis and point at the misty cloud.
But Flint shakes his head.
‘Flint, we’re in the middle of nowhere. There’snobodyaround.’
‘You don’t know that,’ he says. ‘Now, stop yacking. I need my beauty sleep.’
I lie down, huddled beneath my cloak, listening to the sound of crickets, the nickering of the horses, the occasional eruption of steam from a distant hot spring. For some reason, I can’t seem to keep my eyes closed. I gaze out at the sliver of night sky visible through the narrow mouth of the cave.
Night.
