Page 153 of Tale of the Heart Queen

The dogs trot in front as we head downstairs. Everyone is gathered in the library, perched on the various velvet upholstered chairs and sofas scattered throughout the room. Bookshelves line the walls and a fire roars in the hearth. The tall windows leak with plumes of colorful light, gilding everyone in rainbow edges.

Anemone, dressed in a tunic and leggings, has arrived with Etienne and the Book of Night. Cyan has also acquired some warmer clothing, and the dark colors seem to make his bright hair glow with even more brilliance.

“Have a seat,” Amya says as Nadir and I enter. She stands with her hands clasped, the lines around her mouth tight. Her dark hair is slicked into a high bun, and she wears black leather leggings with a corset, all of it embellished with bright streaks of violet, emerald, and fuchsia. Though I wasn’t expecting good news, she looks more worried than I’d like.

“What’s happening?” Nadir asks, clearly picking up on the same feeling.

“So, we returned to the Keep prepared to convince Father that Mael and I had abandoned you to your own devices . . .”

“And?” Nadir asks.

“And he’s not there.”

A pause of silence echoes around the room.

“He never returned after I escaped them in Alluvion?” I ask.

“No,” Amya says. “They returned, but everyone I’ve spoken to—his guards and attendants—all confirm that Father disappeared two days ago. His study is a mess—empty glasses and bottles lie all over the place with papers and books strewn everywhere.”

Nadir shakes his head. “That . . . doesn’t make sense.”

“I know,” she replies. “Mael and I searched through his things, but either he left, or someone took him.”

“Did you find anything useful?” Nadir asks.

“I’m not sure. There was a chest full of journals. From what I could tell, they were written by Herric.”

“What?” I ask sharply. Herric left journals?

“How could anything survive that long?” Cyan asks.

“I don’t know that either,” Amya says. “They must have been enchanted. There are dozens, and Father was definitely reading them. We found crumpled notes everywhere, too.”

“King Herric,” Cedar says, as if he’s tasting the bitter syllables while we all share a wary look.

Herric, the Lord of the Underworld.

Is this connected? Have the strings been pulled from such a distance?

“So we can enter the Keep,” Tristan asks, “without worrying about your father?”

Mael shakes his head. “I’ve questioned all his guards, and they could be lying, but it seems they aren’t currently in contact with him. It’s impossible to say. It could also be a trap, and we’d be playing right into his hands.”

“But we need to get the Torch,” I say.

“So we sneak in,” Nadir says. “We would have had to do that anyway.”

“What do we do about Zerra?” I ask, my gaze flicking upwards. Along with the destroyed castle, I can’t get the image of her screaming out of my head. The way she bent with pain and the look on her face when she sent that final blast my way. “If we go near the Torch, she might see us again.”

“You said the Keep is made of virulence?” Anemone asks, and Nadir nods.

“It should shield you long enough to get the Torch. That amount would block out her sight.”

“I wondered if that’s why Herric built it.”

She nods. “That would make sense.”

“What about the ceremony?” Willow asks. “Can we all go in?”