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“Right here, Your Highness,” she calls out calmly from behind him.
Zander’s gaze hardens on her. After this, I don’t know that he’ll ever see her as anything but traitorous Mordain. I’m beginning to understand why. “The taillok?”
“I have respelled it. It will carry your message to Cirilea.” She gestures to a sizable cage draped in oilcloth nearby, nodding toward Kienen.
He draws the cover off.
Murmured voices rise among the legionaries as they appraise it.
“This thing has delivered messages to Cirilea?” Jarek peers at it with amazement.
“A handful of times, especially closer to the wedding,” Zander says.
“How did I miss that in flight?”
“It is far stealthier than its size would portray,” Kienen confirms.
The taillok stands three feet tall, with two spindly legs capped by clawed feet. Hawkish black eyes lined with humanlike eyelashes and surrounded by a vibrant orange mask watch us as if cataloging our every twitch. Its feathers are an iridescent white, save for a dozen wispy gold ones standing on end around its head, shaped to look like a crown.
“You said this came from the Nulling?” Doubt steeps in my voice. “But it’s … beautiful.”
It answers with a piercing screech that makes us all wince.
Gesine smiles. “Not all creatures that come through the Nulling are as terrifying as the grif. Some, you would never suspect.”
Like Sofie’s husband, I suppose, if he ever makes it through.
This messenger bird may be stunning but no doubt it’s deadly if it wants to be. That hooked beak looks like it could tear chunks of flesh from my body with little effort.
Zander hands her the letter. “How long will this take to arrive?”
“It should be there by the morning. The caster who spells the bird shares its line of sight, so I will see when it lands in Cirilea’s hands.”
“You mean, you can see what it sees right now?”
Gesine dips her head once in answer. “All the time, Your Highness.”
A worrying thought strikes me. I turn to Kienen. “Was that cloth over it this entire time?”
“Most of the time. The prince’s instructions were to keep it covered when it returned with communication from the queen so as not to tax the caster linked to it. We were to uncover it once each morning or if something important should happen, so the caster could relay our whereabouts to the queen.”
Important, like an unimaginable kingdom within the deeps of Islor? “What about when you arrived here last night?”
Kienen inhales. “The caster will have seen the gates of Ulysede, yes. And you, standing within it.”
I curse.
“I apologize, Your Highness. I did not know the depths of the queen’s betrayal to Ybaris.”
“No, it’s not your fault. You were just following orders.” So Mother Dearest will know I’m alive and that I’m with Zander, and the Ybarisan army is with us. A darker thought strikes me and panic stirs. “Wait. What exactly did the taillok see?”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
AGATHA
A knock sounds on my door, followed by a creak.
“I told you not to bother me this afternoon,” I admonish, not breaking my gaze from the old text I’m studying.
“Still as fixated on your work as ever.”
My head jerks up to find Lorel standing in my office doorway. “Prime?” It’s another few beats before I remember myself. Setting down my magnifying glass, I ease out of my seat as quickly as my body can move. “I apologize. I was not expecting you.” It’s been decades since a much younger version ventured to my office. I assumed she wouldn’t remember her way here. “Can I help you with something?”
“I hope so.” She pushes the door shut and saunters in, her heels clicking on the uneven stone floor. “You know more about matters of the ambiguous than anyone else in Nyos. In all your years of studying the seers’ foretelling, have you ever come across a gate in the Venhorn Mountains?”
“A gate, Prime?” Wariness creeps in, mention of the very mountains that Gesine was heading to too coincidental. “No, I do not recall mention of any gates.” A token from the nymphs, the seers have seen. Something vague but of great value, meant to be found one day, by those in Islor who need it most. “What sort of gate?”
“One you would find at the entrance to a city.” She sighs. “Queen Neilina has just sent word. Her taillok remained with the Ybarisan soldiers in the Venhorn Mountains since the queen’s last letter to the prince. Last night it showed an image to Caster Yesenia of Princess Romeria standing within a set of gates. The exiled king was with her.”
“And you believe the answer to this lies within prophecy? My, my … how interesting.” I can’t keep the incredulity from my voice, the mocking smile from curling my lips. The Prime has never been a supporter. She’s gone as far as to suggest the seers are a burden, better off put out of their misery the moment the change takes hold, their ramblings useless and a waste of effort to document.
