A woman hurried out of the archway Verin's mother had emerged from. A blue velvet cloak trimmed in snowy fur hung over her arms. She rushed up to Verin, bowed deeply, then held the cloak out as if it were an offering to a God, releasing it partially so that it fell open and she might place it on his shoulders for him.
“Thank you,” Verin said softly to the woman but he took the cloak instead of turning for her to put it on him. As the servant scurried away, he transferred his attention back to his mother to declare, “It's far too warm in here to wear such a thing.” He tossed the cloak onto a nearby boulder that had the look of sculpture to it. “I don't need to dress up for these royals. I've fought beside them. They expect no grandeur from me.”
“More's the pity.” She made a face. “Life should be full of grandeur, Son. Especially when you're a king.”
Verin sighed as if this were a frequent argument then turned to us. “May I present my mother, Queen Savassa of the Azure Court? Mother, this is Queen Elaria, King Darcraxis, King Torin, King Declan, Prince Banning, Prince Saif, and Lord Gage.”
“It's an honor to meet you, Your Majesty,” I said for all of us.
“The honor is mine.” Savassa inclined her head. “I have never encountered a woman with a harem. I'm utterly fascinated.”
Declan choked on a laugh.
“These men are my husbands and mate; they're my family,” I corrected her gently. “They're not a harem.”
Savassa blinked. Her dark eyes widened slightly then shifted to her son. She said something in their language, and he replied curtly. Despite his tone, she smiled approvingly but that approval seemed to be directed at me, not Verin.
“Uh, if I may?” Prince Saif interrupted the mother-son discussion.
They both looked at him askance.
“I am not a part of the family,” Said said firmly. “I'd just like to make that clear.”
Queen Savassa laughed in delight. “Wonderful! I'm thrilled that at least one of my visitors is an eligible, royal male.”
Saif flushed.
“Mother,” Verin's growl sounded beleaguered.
“I'm simply employing talents that I haven't been able to practice for a long time,” Queen Savassa declared. “Surely the Prince doesn't begrudge me some mild flirtation? I'm harmless.”
Verin snorted.
“I would begrudge you nothing, Your Majesty.” Prince Saif bowed. “I'm honored to be the target of your talent.”
“Oh, sweet seawater,” Verin cursed. “Mother, their need is rather pressing.”
“Yes. Yes.” Savassa rolled her eyes and held her hand out limply to Saif. “You may escort me, Prince Saif.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty.” Saif took the Queen's hand and wrapped it around his arm.
Verin rolled his eyes.
“This way, please,” Savassa called back to us as she headed toward the arch.
“I thought she entertained guests in the garden?” I asked Verin as we followed.
“I do,” Savassa answered for her son. “But I never call the dead here. The garden is a place for life; it would suffer from a spiritual visit.”
“And she would suffer from the wrong ambiance for her performance,” Verin added dryly.
“My son likes to act as if psychic abilities are all smoke and mirrors despite the heavy proof to the contrary,” Savassa said as she led us into a dark room. “He even denies his own talents.”
Verin grunted as if he couldn't bother with the energy it would take to protest.
The room the Queen Mother brought us to was small, circular, and completely lined in blue coral. A round table stood in its exact center with several chairs gathered around it; more than enough to accommodate all of us. It looked as if the Queen was used to entertaining a crowd.
“You don't believe she can contact the dead?” I asked Verin.
“Oh, she absolutely can,” Verin said. “But she takes pleasure in the spectacle more than the communication.”
Savassa let go of Saif and turned on her son with a stark expression; one devoid of all artifice. “That's because the dead give no pleasure. They only take; if you're unwise enough or careless enough to allow them to. My spectacle, as you call it, diminishes their pride, wears at their will, and gives me another layer of protection, especially when I must force them to obey me.”
Verin inclined his head respectfully. “Thank you for helping my friends, Mother.”
Queen Savassa instantly brightened and glided forward to place a kiss on her son's cheek. “Anything for you, my beautiful boy.”
She spoke to him again in their language, and Verin's doting expression turned sour. They argued while the rest of us watched on. Savassa sounded imploring while Verin conveyed stern refusal. Finally, the Queen waved her dainty hand and dismissed the argument as if it were nothing.
Verin's jaw clenched and his stare shot briefly to me.
“Please, sit down,” Queen Savassa waved toward the chairs. “Have you brought a personal connection to the dead? Something they owned or touched?”
My jaw dropped in dismay. “No, we didn't know that was required.”
“It's not necessary, it just makes it easier.” Savassa shook her head. “Who was closest to this person?”
“Well, I killed her,” Darc offered.
“That will do,” she said brightly.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Darc took the chair beside Queen Savassa's and held her hand. Verin sat on his mother's left. I thought she would ask us all to hold hands, but that request never came. Savassa simply closed her eyes and centered herself.
“Who do you wish to contact?” Queen Savassa asked. “Their full name, please.”
“Petra Demos,” I supplied the name.
“Petra Demos,” she repeated, “come to me now!”
The room vibrated with the Queen's demand; vibrated like a struck gong. I glanced at the walls warily. Something was strange about their surface; they didn't look as porous as they had when we'd first entered the space. Then they began to weep. I sat up straighter. Tears ran down the walls then slid toward the center of the room like translucent snakes. They gathered there and thumbed their liquid noses at gravity to run up
