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Risna offers him a small smile. “It’s good to see you, Herc.” Her gaze drifts over to Drac. “Not so much you, though.”
“Likewise” is all Drac says as he leads us into the castle.
Everything is still when we enter. There are no flickering flames from the candelabras that normally illuminate this hallway nor footfalls from mortal servants scurrying every which way in the dim lighting.
Something isn’t right.
“Where are the servants?” I immediately ask Hercule, voice too loud for the unnerving silence.
“Dead.”
It takes everything in me not to flinch. Mihal must be alarmingly angry then. Risna and I exchange a fleeting uneasy glance. The last time he went on a rampage and murdered all his servants, he almost declared war on the five kingdoms. Risna’s mouth is drawn tight, though the tension in her shoulders gives away her discontent. Her fingers fiddle with the pommel of the dagger sheathed to her thigh.
As we come upon the throne room, I’m bracing myself for the worst. An ambush, an onslaught. When the doors burst open, my blade is in my hand without even thinking. A male—a copper-haired vampire I don’t recognize—cradles a desiccated body in his arms. My eyes pass over him quickly and focus on the husk’s taut leathery skin and yellowed fangs before lingering on the silver stake jutting from her chest.
Risna gasps, drawing to a halt. Her hand clutches my forearm. “That’s Ioana.”
Ioana Valcov is—was—renowned across Norica for her fortunetelling. The morning after I awoke as a fledgling vampire, Godrick summoned her to the Shore of the Damned to ascertain my future. He’d said he had his fortune gleaned by her, and it led him to me. He wished to grant me the same foresight. When Ioana arrived, she told me of a prophecy. One I believed was too good to be true up until last night.
Her talent in fortunetelling encouraged many creatures to hire her as an attraction for parties where she’d whisper glimpses of the future to those willing enough to feed her a drop of their blood. Since she told me of my future long before her popularity increased, I never partook in anything more than drunken palm readings, but Risna…
They were friends.
The male pauses mid-stride. His amber eyes shine with worry. “I-I didn’t do this.”
“Keep moving, Owen,” Drac snaps.
Risna is frozen to the spot, unable to take her eyes off her friend.
Hercule shoves the male forward. “Go put her with the others.”
Her nails dig through the fabric of my shirt. Sheathing my blade, I carefully remove myself from her grip and squeeze her hand in understanding.
“Allow us to return Ioana’s body to the Shore of the Damned,” I say stiffly. “She deserves an honorable burial.” Hercule and Drac glance at one another but don’t outright reject the idea. I press forward. “I’ll pay you in gold—all of you—for your discretion.”
Drac’s eyes narrow. “My loyalty cannot be bought.”
“Please,” says Risna softly. “If not for gold, then for Ioana. She was always kind to both of you. She gave you free palm readings. And you”—she drives her finger into Herc’s chest—“she nursed your cat back to full health when he took ill and didn’t ask for anything in return. You owe her.”
Hercule frowns. “But Mihal…”
“Please.”
It’s Drac who breaks first under Risna’s pleading gaze. “Just this once. If a word of this is spoken to Mihal, we’ll all end up like her.”
Together, the five of us glance at Ioana’s husk. A taut, tension-filled moment passes before I say, “Leave her body outside the castle gates. We’ll take her once we leave.”
Owen nods.
With heavy steps and even heavier hearts, the rest of us approach the throne room.
“Why would Mihal kill her?” Risna whispers. The words are thick, as if she’s struggling to steel herself. “She may have been far too powerful for her own good, but she was a dove. She always advocated for peace among creatures and mortals.”
“You know why,” I say, tightening my grip on the sack containing Joal’s head.
Mihal must not have liked what she foretold.
“After our business concludes here, I’ll have to go to Ioana’s for Florin,” she says quietly. I arch my brow, and she hastily adds, “Her familiar.”
