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“Yes,” I whispered. “This enemy—Davorin—is a mimicker and a battle fae who has developed the talent to rob other magicks of their abilities. He seeks . . . the power I shared with Ari. Then he seeks every throne, every kingdom across the lands. He will take your power, and kill you all.”
Valen’s face flushed. No mistake, a thousand questions lined his tongue.
“Trust Calista, trust Gunnar,” I pleaded. “Ari is alive, wounded, and I am doing all I can to protect himandyou. The only reason you are still untouched, I believe, is because the shadow queen isn’t here and the bonds are not complete.”
“Mal’s gotta be here.” Ash scoffed. “No way does Kase go anywhere without her, more now that the two littles are coming.”
“Ash.” Kase snarled at his Kryv. “She wanted to tell Gunnar in person.”
I froze. “Is she here?”
The Nightrender’s eyes darkened again, and he dipped his chin in a slow nod. “She remained with the boats.”
All four damn crowns were somewhere on the isles. Of the kings and queens, Malin was the only one I’d spoken to alone. In the dungeons at the Black Palace, she’d been behind a prison cell. I’d begged her to end the fight. I knew Astrid wanted a throne, I knew a darkness was coming.
For a moment, I’d even thought Malin might’ve believed I had deeper reasons to stand with Astrid. She’d told me they could help me. Now, I was reeling to save them.
“We’ll leave,” Valen said. His gaze went to Gunnar, then me. “But as long as Ari is at risk, I am not going far.”
“I swear, we’ll bring you answers, just . . .” A chill trickled up my neck when branches snapped at our backs, when the verdant leaves of blossoms and ferns darkened in black veins and shadows. “Gods, no.”
“What is it?” Valen stepped to my side.
My voice was hoarse, ragged and raw, I reached for my sword. “He’s here.”
Chapter24
The Raven Queen
Mist dark as midnight gathered.Spools of black ribbons pulled from the veiny corruption slithering through the forest until it settled around shoulders, strong legs, and the sharp features of the battle lord.
He was stronger than he’d been in Bracken’s tent. The call to war in the isles only added power to his manipulations.
From the trees, fae emerged. Hardened, dark veins ran up the length of their necks. Some had blood-red eyes from endless days of no sleep, of the rush of constant hate. Like Bo, fingertips were blue and black as though dipped in charcoal.
They drew blades. We were surrounded.
Davorin’s full lips curled over his white teeth when he spotted me. “Hello, little raven. Look what you’ve brought for me.”
Palms raised, Davorin sneered at the foreign warriors. Hot, dreadful pressure took hold. An invisible force slithered through the lines of the warriors, some groaned, some cried out, others drew blades and fell into step to fight a new battle with a new foe.
“Get off the isles—” I couldn’t finish my plea to Valen before one of the warriors, a tall man with tanned skin a shade lighter than his king, drew a crooked knife from his belt.
The whites of his eyes were overtaken by the thin, inky black veins, and his hate was aimed squarely at Elise.
“Anders?” The queen took a step back. “Put the knife down.”
“What’s wrong with you?” Valen tugged on his wife’s arm and pulled her behind him. “Step back from your queen.”
The warrior trembled, sweat beaded over his flushed face, and twisted rage spilled from his gaze. “Timorans have no right to the crown of Etta!”
There was a shout—from whom, I didn’t know—but the warrior lunged, aimed to slit his own queen’s throat. Hatred boiled in his voice, his eyes; hedespisedher.
Before the blade fell, a battle axe split the center of the guard’s face. I covered my mouth, watching as Valen ripped his axe out of the guard’s skull, stun written in his countenance. The guard wobbled on his feet for a breath before falling backward.
“What the hells?” Valen spun into his wife.
Elise didn’t look away from the fallen guard. Laughter drew us away from the gore. Davorin winked at me, then in the next breath, he attacked.
