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The king’s sister, Cyndella, barked orders as the enchantress continuously worked on spells to find any ties to her location. The entire castle was a hub of activity, and yet they were no closer to finding the missing pair than my team had been in Goldhaven.
“This is my fault,” Mirielle moaned as her husband held her hand, shaking his head. She sank to the chair, trembling. “You warned me about this, Zen. I should have listened to you.”
“No. We had success with all the others. Isa, Gina—they were much more stubborn than Lysandra ever was,” the King of Silverhold growled. “Lysandra is an anomaly. The Anti-Order has been a success for the most part.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Lysandra wasn’t difficult to deprogram?” I asked curiously.
This surprised me. In my mind’s eye, I imagined she would have been the worst of the group who had been rescued from Agnan’s control. If she had been turned back so easily, it seemed that she would have put up something of a fight to cling to her dark magic practices.
Zen shook his head. “Not at all,” he replied.
“Not compared to the others,” Mirielle sighed. “Even when we were children, she was pliable, you know? She didn’t fight much, like she understood the virtue of keeping quiet and doing what she was told. It always fared better for us that way. We didn’t make waves, so Agnan wouldn’t harm us. This is so… out of character for her. She’s the last one I would have expected to do anything like this.”
I pondered this carefully. “Could she have just been biding her time? Playing a long game because she always knew whose daughter she was?”
Mirielle scoffed lightly. “I still can’t believe she’s Agnan’s,” she admitted. “He didn’t like her all that much. He liked me much more.”
Zen dropped his forehead to hers. “It’s all right, Miri. Any information could help right now.”
“I’m not trying to speak poorly of Lysandra,” she rushed on nervously. “I’m saying that I’m shocked that Agnan wouldn’t have favored her more if she really was his blood. This feels like… like a lie he would have told her to get her on his side—if he were around to do that. Why would he treat his own flesh and blood so badly?” She paused. “But I guess I shouldn’t be asking why that evil bastard did anything. I’m glad he’s dead.”
I felt the blood drain from my face as her words struck me.
A dozen thoughts flooded me at once, bits and pieces of conversations, tidbits of information bombarding me as I put it all together. Like a lightning bolt to my brain, I suddenly choked.
“But he’s a master of shapeshifting,” I breathed unsteadily. “Isn’t he? Or, it could have been possession. Regardless, he is able to take the form of another fae.”
They raised their heads in unison, the room around me growing quiet at my declaration.
“Agnan… that’s how he was able to…” I couldn’t bring myself to say it aloud. “That’s how he managed to father all of these children in all the palaces.”
Mirielle’s cheeks turned ashen as she looked from me to her husband and back again.
“B-but he’s gone!” she sputtered.
“Is he gone?” I demanded, jumping out of my chair and racing toward the door. “Have everyone forget about locator spells on the females. Have them set their sights on doing a locator spell on Agnan.”
“Where are you going?!” Zen yelled out after me.
“I’m going back to the spot where we lost the trace on them with my enchantress to do the same,” I shouted back, almost shifting into my wolf form in my apprehension. It was much too far away to run, but that was exactly what I wanted to do, despite the fact that Llyodiver waited by the back entrance in the SUV for me.
“Drive!” I ordered, slamming the car door behind me. “And don’t stop for any lights.”
We caughtup with the enchantress and warlock in the middle of a ravine, the search for Elix still going strong. The guards were nowhere around the pair, branched off down the various back roads, knocking on doors of the farmhouses.
“Your theory is insane!” Cirilla protested when I told her what to do. “You think Agnan is still alive?!”
“Go back to the palace and get those DNA results,” I growled. “Find out if Elix and Lysandra really are his… if he did sire them.” I couldn’t bring myself to call him their father because that’s not what he had ever been to either one of them.
Cirilla nodded, disappearing in a cloud of red smoke, and I turned to Solomon. “You need to find him. I think he’s using Lysandra’s skin as his own, but he won’t be looking to hide himself if everyone thinks he’s dead, will he?”
Dazed but impressed by my deduction, Solomon nodded and dropped to his knees where we stood. Llyodiver remained at the road, keeping watch, leaving me and the warlock to investigate my latest idea.
But it was more than just an idle notion. I felt it in my bones, the reality of this, as if Elix were calling out to me from somewhere, close by, confirming what I already suspected.
The warlock drew in sharply, and I whipped my head back to look at him through the brambles.
“What is it?”
