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With a barely there smile, Pyra looked Del in the eyes. Ruler to ruler. “You better hurry and find yoursolution. Because time is the one thing we are grossly short of.”
28
Del
Working by the flickering light of the campfire, I sat hunched on a fallen log on the border of the redwood forest, frantically scribbling words onto the pages of the soft leather-bound notebook Fin found for me at the market. Fin and Farris, our Noctem addition, sat quietly chatting around the fire with Saira and Ada. Liam was already asleep on the bedroll laid out beside mine, directly behind my perch.
My gaze lingered on the Noctem emissary, Kalliope’s most powerful Telepath, wondering why he had joined us this morning only to keep to himself, talking to us only when addressed directly. Otherwise, the spindly blue-eyed, black-haired man remained quietly watchful, frequently moving to the periphery of our group.
I shouldn’t have been surprised Pyra’s man was reclusive, just as I imagined Pyra was, spinning her web while she waited to strike. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust her, because I trusted that Fin would have warned me if there was something I needed to worry about with her, but I wasn’t entirely comfortable in Farris’s presence. I couldn’t shake the suspicion that he was really only with us to observe and report back to his mistress when we were finished with our journey. At the same time, now that Noctem was invested in what might turn into an ugly fight for power, I could understand why the sisters wanted an emissary with us on the journey.
Sighing, I returned my attention to my notebook. Unfortunately, the copy of Becca’s book of foretellings found in the Glass Palace was just as fragmented as Mother’s, which meant my quest to uncover the rest of the prophecy still hinged on finding Jake and learning whatever he knew about how and where Becca had recorded her prophecies.
And now, the only chance I had to reclaim a crown many would argue I had no right to—that I wasn’t even sure I wanted—was to prove to Pyra that the Corvo Kingdom was still strong by finding a cure for the wasting sickness.
Why had I opened my mouth in the meeting with Pyra and Kalliope? Why had I hinted at solutions I wasn’t even sure existed? Prophecies from the distant past. Vague references to a cure. For the first time in my life, I was out of the game—a game I had never wanted to play. So why was I scheming to get myself back in?
Because of Garath. Because of a promise I hadn’t actually made but that he had requested all the same. Because he had believed in me, and that belief had cost him his life.
My pen scratched on the paper as I crossed out the last few lines. I had recalled and recreated the single page from Mother’s prophecy index relating to our current situation and the associated prophecies perfectly, but I was second-guessing myself about everything else. What about the notes Mother had scrawled in the margins of the associated books of foretellings? What about all those file folders in the bottom drawer? Had I seen anything potentially relevant stored there?
I turned the page in the notebook and started fresh, attempting to list the labels I had seen on the files. But there had beenso many. For minutes, I stared at the blank page, but I couldn’t recall anything specific.
“Ugh!” I growled, snapping the notebook shut with the pen marking my page and tossing it onto the ground beside my log.
This was useless. I rubbed my temples and dug my fingers into my hair.Iwas useless. And my skin was caked in salt from the sea spray, and my hair was tangled and greasy. Even tied back in a braid, it was driving me crazy. I hadn’t bathed in days, since before donning my coronation dress, and I couldn’t stand being filthy a moment longer.
I stood and rounded the end of the fallen log, then crouched by my pack at the head of Liam’s and my bedrolls. For a long moment, I stared at Liam, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest and taking in his relaxed features, so different from the masks of grief and fear he alternated between while awake.
Protecting him was my number one priority, but it seemed like there was no path stretching out ahead that could guarantee his safety. Every territory within the Seven Kingdoms was dangerous in its own way, but the wildlands were worse. The Ferals. The bandits. The reclusive mountain folk. Maybe one of the foreign lands could offer safe refuge instead. The emissaries from both the Evergreen Nation and Yellowstone had been friendly enough when they had stayed at Castle Corvo, but that was years ago.
But to reach the Evergreen Nation, I would have to cross three of our kingdoms or travel the open sea, and to reach Yellowstone, I would have to cross a vast desert larger than all the land in the Seven Kingdoms combined. Even if we survived the perilous journey, the Evergreen Nation could very well turn us away, as our gifts—all Abilities—were outlawed there.
Regardless, in either place, I would be powerless and at the whims of those in charge.
But, if we stayed and fought, if I attempted to reclaim the Corvo throne and succeeded, I would have more control over the situation. I could build a world that was safe for Liam.
I found the spare shirt Ada had packed for me, wishing there was a towel and a bar of soap in my pack as well, then stood and walked deeper into the shadowed woods bordering our camp. When we first made camp hours ago, I should have taken Ada up on her offer to stand watch while I bathed, but I had been too focused on getting all that valuable information out of my head and down on paper. I didn’t even know where the soap was stored. Not in my pack, that much was certain.
A creek trickled nearby, and I spotted Hills standing watch on the outskirts of camp on my way down to the rocky bank.
She glanced at me as I approached, her lips curving into a halfhearted smile. “Can’t sleep?”
I barked a laugh. “I haven’t even tried,” I admitted. I paused beside her and held up my folded shirt. “I just want to wash up. Is it safe to go down to the creek alone, or do I need an escort?”
“I can see the creek from here,” she said, leaning her shoulder against a tree trunk.
I squinted down the dark slope.Icouldn’t see the creek, but I didn’t have the enhanced sight of a Super like Hills. Thanks to her gifts, she was stronger, faster, and could hear and see better than anyone I had ever met, except for Lyra.
“Go on,” she said, nodding toward the trickling water. “I’ll keep an eye on you.”
A vice clenched around my heart, and I pressed my hand against my chest. Garath would have demanded he escort me to the creek.
“Itwillget easier,” Hills said softly, and I wondered if she heard a change in the rhythm of my heartbeat that clued her in to the morose direction of my thoughts. “In time.”
I nodded and flashed her a weak smile, then started down the slope. When I reached the edge of the creek, I unfastened my cloak, laid it out on the ground, did the same with my weapons belt, and set the clean tunic on top of the small pile. I pulled my worn tunic off over my head and crouched to soak it in the running water before scrubbing it over my face. I wiped my upper body down as best as I could without soap, warm water, or a clean towel. It was a lame attempt at bathing, but at least the frigid water gave me something else to think about for a few minutes. When I was as clean as I was going to get, I rang out the wet tunic and exchanged it for the clean, dry top.
Feeling a little more like myself—whoever she was—I sat on a large rock by the creek and picked up a small stone to toss into the water. Had Mother known Nolan was alive? What would she have thought of her son returning and claiming the throne out from under me? I pulled the raven pendant out from under the collar of my tunic and curled my fingers around it.
