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Riot stormed into the room, dressed as if he’d only stepped off the battlefield moments before, two other warriors behind him. The king kicked over a clay pot near the hearth and let out a roar of frustration. “Where is the damn source of the outrage!”
“Your Highness, we don’t know. It . . . it may be time to consider there is a plague spreading,” said a warrior.
“I’ve had the folk with gifts of the body study the blood,” Riot snapped. “Not even they have answers. I’ve tried to alter the path, Anneli has tried to write a twist of fate, and nothing changes. Something that understands seidr is fighting against us. Something powerful and wretched.”
The warriors spared a look at each other.
“What?” Riot seemed on the brink of slaughter. “Speak! Do not mince words when half my damn Rave has been overtaken.”
“King Riot,” the tallest of the warriors said, stepping forward. “I don’t wish to speak ill of your ward, but . . . the boy did predict a divide in the realms. Already, fae folk from every vein of magic are fading away or turning on one another. Is it possible the boy has cursed the land?”
“Silas has nothing to do with this.” Riot jutted a finger at the guard. “You think I would not know how to sense it?”
“No, that’s not what I meant.”
I glanced at the table. Long, skinny legs pulled back further under the draped furs, and another soft, “Hush” came from the hiding place.
“Send a messenger to the star peaks to fetch Lord Davorin.” Riot’s jaw pulsed. “He has been absent too long and too often. Tell him if he does not return soon, I shall find another to be my damn battle lord.”
“That is . . . that is the other thing, Your Highness,” the second warrior stammered. “Captain Joost returned from the point this morning. He, uh, he did not see the battle lord.”
Riot’s face took on a dark shade, like he held his breath far too long. “What do you mean he’s not at the point? He left nearly a month ago to build up our damn borders.”
Before any response was given, footsteps echoed over the floorboards in the hall. The same as the king entered, the door banged heavy against the wall.
“Riot!” Captain Annon stood in the doorway, blood on his hands, breaths sharp and heavy. “Come quickly.”
“What is it?” Riot had his sword out.
“Queen Anneli, she found . . . where your sister has been all this time.”
Blood drained from Riot’s face. My skin went cold much the same as I watched the last fate king sprint from the chamber, his warriors at his back, and flee to where I knew he’d find her—beaten, battered, shamefully abused.
A few breaths after the room emptied, the boy crawled out from the table. “Hurry, little rose. We need to go. Something . . . something’s happening. We need to help your daj.”
The boy fumbled with a little cloak and hood over the child’s head, took the small hand in his, then hurried after the king.
“I won’t show you what was found, Ari.”
My fingernails dug into my palms, leaving divots from the pressure. “I don’t need to see. I already know.”
“But you do not know what came next,” Wraith said, a touch of sadness in his voice. “Watch closely Ari, find what you must learn from a tale. For if you ever are free of this, it might be what saves you.”
Chapter20
The Raven Queen
Cool air struckmy face once we emerged from the underground prison cells. The blaze of torches chased away the dark night, and all around, blood fae scrambled for the gates. Horns sounded from the watch towers Gorm had finished constructing in my absence.
Calista silently handed me a knife and gave me a nod. She ran alongside me toward the bustle near the entrance.
“Nik, stay back. We need you alive, not dead,” Gunnar shouted over his shoulder.
The Falkyn balked. “Come again, princeling.”
“You’re here to heal this plague, not go to battle.”
“Look around you, boy,” Niklas snapped, adjusting the gold rings on his fingers. “We all are doomed for another battle. I was surviving before you took your first breath. Never tell me to stay back from a fight, understand?”
