Page 87 of Turncloak

“Do you have any evidence of this wild conspiracy?” Karvas snapped.

“The common room,” Auria said desperately. “It’s ruined—Nissa used her fire to wound him.”

Karvas fixed his lupine gaze on her, cold and furious. “Any evidence of his presence.”

Nissa lifted her chin, the gold of her eyes shining bright. “Our word.”

Karvas surveyed the room—the open window, the desk drawer hanging out like a gaping mouth, the two bedraggled mages before him. “I do not abide traitors or turncloaks, and you’ve willingly turned over a valuable resource to a Bloodmoon.”

The Bloodmoons you yourself are weak to, Auria wanted to scream, but she had no fight left.

Karvas gave them a dark, almost glittering look.

“This will be the end of you both.”

39

• • • •

Dragontail

Not long after Saffron returned to her chambers with the Steel King’s stolen letter, there was a knock. Stuffing the pilfered correspondence hastily into the trunk at the end of her bed, she padded to the door and opened it.

Levan stood on the other side, still filmy from the invisibility tincture, holding her father’s letter in his golden hand.

The envelope read For My Darling Saffron.

Tears sprang to her eyes, hot and sudden, and she threw her arms around Levan.

“Thank you,” she murmured into the crook between his neck and shoulder, letting the warm, salty tears fall onto his bare skin, and though he was stiff beneath her, she heard the rapid beat of his heart before she pulled away. “Read it with me?”

Levan’s now-empty hand clenched at his side. “Are you sure?”

“Well, let me read it myself first. But…stay with me. You deserve to know, to understand, after you risked so much to bring it to me.” A gulp of dread. “How did it go? Was anyone—”

“No casualties.” He grimaced, and she only just noticed the fragile way he was holding himself, one hip higher than the other, his heels tentative on the ground. “I got—Naszi burned me. Nothing I can’t heal once I’ve refilled my well.”

So Nissa had been there. Saff didn’t know whether to feel relieved that her former lover was alright, guilty for putting her in harm’s way, or angry that she’d actively attempted to keep the letter from Saffron.

“I don’t like that you’re hurting because of me,” she said softly.

A dark, deep emotion roiled behind his eyes, and Saffron thought maybe he was thinking of all the other ways she had wounded him, but all he did was take a step into the room, close the door, and rest his head back against it.

“Read your letter,” he muttered, fatigue weighing the words down. It was past dawn, and neither of them had slept. “I’ll be right here.”

Heart thumping manically, Saffron crossed to her bed, perched on the very edge, and opened the long-sealed envelope. At the sight of her father’s handwriting, an old pain swelled behind her ribs.

My Darling Saffron,

If you’re reading this, it means I’m gone. And I’m so sorry for that, but in truth, I’m also relieved.

Becoming a parent means agreeing to spend the rest of your life afraid. Nothing terrifies me more than the prospect of losing you—of having to live without you. Selfishly, I am glad you have outlived me. It is the proper order of things. But I also know how much you adore your mother and me, and I know it must be so painful for you to have to say goodbye. Though it is never truly goodbye, my darling. I am there in every beat of your heart. I am you, and you are me. You will never be alone.

Saffron’s body reacted to the words even as her mind was still processing, and she fought the urge to whimper like a little girl.

Still, there is much I never told you—much you were too young to know. I trust that this letter has been withheld from you until the right moment, that the mage I entrusted it to knew that moment when it arrived.

So let us start there, shall we? With the mage who held this letter, and all the myriad ways our lives and fates were intertwined—but also perpetually at odds.