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I kissed him slowly, then pressed our foreheads together. “Be ready for the signal.”
“Be careful.” Ari wrapped me up in his arms, but released me swiftly, as if he would never let me go if he held on too long.
“Lady Saga.” Gorm held open the door to a large coach. It was pulled by two bulky charges with a red tint to their eyes.
The carriage of the blood lord had always been like a phantom on the roads. A warning of others not to come too near. Gorm had managed his court fairly, but to the outside it was rather brilliant to play the fearsome folk. Kept peace at his gates, and his rivals with a healthy apprehension.
I glanced over my shoulder at Ari. He stepped back toward the warriors, eyes locked on me. At one side was Stieg, then Hodag’s stout frame in front of her favorite warrior. At Ari’s other shoulder was Bo and Rune, donned in matching leather gambesons and black cowls.
There was a touch of murder in Bo’s gaze I was growing to trust. He wanted Davorin to pay for the pain he’d brought, for the slaughter of Bracken, for stealing Sofia from us.
Hatred for the battle lord was alive in the Court of Blood. It was merely a race for which of us reached him first.
I slipped inside the carriage. Gunnar was already seated on the bench, Stefan at his side, dressed like a Night Folk warrior. The prince waved to his father in the huddle behind Ari. Hagen gave his son a nod, a smile of pride.
Calista took the seat next to me, a quill and parchment in her pouch, and hands wringing her fingers like boneless flesh in her lap.
Gorm’s pin-small pupils pulsed. “Ready, My Queen?”
To tell Gorm I wasn’t ready would do little good. We didn’t have a choice. I gave him a nod and sat straight in my seat. The Blood Lord hooded his head, closed the door, and took a place on the driver’s bench with Cuyler.
At the jolt of the carriage moving forward, Calista squeezed my palm. Her eyes were tight and closed. I gripped her hand tightly in return.
We said nothing. We didn’t let go. Fear did not need to be a weakness, but it existed.
And for now, we would hold tightly to each other through it.
Chapter38
The Golden King
“He is focused on whatever he wants in the repository in the peaks above him.” Bo pointed out the area where the battle lord had set up his rule. “He is never looking below.”
Dustand gritty debris coated my skin in a fine layer of grime. I didn’t mind. It meant we were gaining ground. We were getting closer, and I had a promise of pleasure and a month in bed with a queen to keep.
Trolls were remarkable at burrowing, but two trolls burrowing at once was frightening.
Through the night, since Saga’s instruction, Dunker and Hodag had worked tunnels from the Court of Blood to Whisper Lake. There we’d taken boats over the water toward the Court of Stars.
I’d panicked in silence through most of the night over whether I’d be able to keep illusions over an entire court of warriors during the time on the lake.
Saga mentioned the dark clouds I’d helped build with Kase around the small isle were aided by the isles, by the blood feather within my veins. I’d been leery then, but there was no other way to explain how no ripple irritated the surface of the lake as we’d crossed, how the trees shadowed every warrior in pitch thick enough it seemed to drink up their entire form.
For now, I rested my fury and marveled at the long swipes of the trolls cutting into the earth.
The Court of Stars was made of peaks and hills and vales. Lush lavender forests blanketed the court with sweet scents, and every tree seemed to be made of velvet petals more than glossy leaves. Lanterns were delivered to a warrior every fifty men. Enough light we could see our hands in front of us, nothing more.
“Makin’ it to the peaks,” Hodag said over her shoulder.
“Make space,” I returned. “Bo. You’re needed.”
The procession of warriors came to a halt. Dunker and Hodag took time to fashion a bulge in their joint burrow. A bit of room for more than three or four of us to stand side by side. It wasn’t enough to fit us all, but the blood fae took turns filtering into the cavern to stretch or step away from other bodies for a few breaths before they returned to their line.
Bo came to my side, still hesitant around me, as I took out the map of the isles.
“All right, tracker,” I said, a slice of irritation in my tone. No wonder the man still expected me to reach in and tear his heart out. I resented the way he’d hunted us, the way he’d put Saga’s life at risk at the monastery. I resented that he’d succumbed deeper into Davorin’s cruelty while Rune fought his way out. I narrowed my eyes. “Last you were here, what had he done to the star folk? Lead us through, we might find a way to laugh over ale and exaggerated stories again.”
At least he didn’t whimper or plead. Bo knew where we stood and accepted it for now.
