“Vi!”
I dart into the morning light as another enraged snarl echoes behind me. Cloth tears and fae yell as the tent abruptly begins to collapse. Lysander tears his way straight through the silk.
Curse it.
There’s nowhere to go except into the forest.
The dark, creepy forest that has eaten its way through the Ruthvien ruins.
Tough decision. Bane behind me. Unknown danger ahead. And no time to think my way through this mess.
“Vi?” It’s a whisper in my head, a tickling against my skin as I sprint toward the trees.
“Thiago?”
“Let me in.”
I open myself to him and there he is, burning like a supernova in the back of my mind. It’s rare that the fae allow others to meld with them mind-to-mind, because it leaves you open and vulnerable, but I know he’d never hurt me.
That doesn’t mean we’ve connected like this on more than a superficial layer.
He won’t let me all the way inside, and I’ve got my own secrets to hide.
Though I can guess at what’s he’s shielding me from.
Something dangerous lingers beneath the subconscious layers of his mind. Something that looks at me hungrily, trailing dark psychic fingers across my mind as if it wants to devour me. It’s an odd sensation. Yearning. Need. Desire. But a threat lurks there too.
The Darkness within him.
I’m panting so fiercely I barely have time to snatch more than a glimpse at it.
“Vi?” He snares my attention, forcing it back on him. “Head into the forest.”
“Are you trying to get me killed?”
“I’m conjuring an illusion of you. If you can lose him, then I can make it look like you’re running into the forest depths.”
I chance a glance over my shoulder. “Losing him might be a problem.”
There’s no chance I can outrun Lysander. He’s built for speed, slaver dripping from his jaws as he focuses on my heels.
“Use your magic.”
Magic. Right.
We’ve been working on my levels of control ever since the Queensmoot, but I don’t like my chance of summoning anything complex. “Fire it is, then.”
“Don’t burn the forest down.”
Even from this distance I can sense the wryness of the thought.
“Jester,” I mutter out loud.
Fire’s my natural gift from my mother’s bloodline. Asturians are heat and summer and roaring wildfires that engulf enormous forests.
I lash out behind me with a controlled whip of flame, ignoring the howl of surprised pain. Lysander will heal. I won’t if he gets his claws into me.
A branch hangs low. Two strides and I’m up in it, hauling my body behind me.
Teeth clash at my boots, almost catching my heel.
Close. Too close. “Anytime you want to work your illusions!”
“Climb higher.”
Darkness punches into being, drowning us both in shadow like a squid squirting ink into the water around it. Lysander roars and the branch beneath me shakes as he swipes at it.
Biting down on a squeal I crawl along the branch. The writhing mess of shadow covers the forest floor, but I can just see.
“Stay still and quiet,” Thiago orders.
I become one with the forest. One breath eased in and out like I’m balancing a plate on my head. Two.
Something loud crashes through the undergrowth. Lysander stills and then he launches after it, leaving a wake of trembling bushes.
I didn’t know he could do that—craft illusions with enough weight to them to disturb the world around them. “Thank you.”
Demi-fey hiss at me as I climb higher, unnaturally bold for such small creatures.
“Stay there. I’ve sent Baylor and Finn after you.”
“What are you doing?”
There’s a silent pause. “Nothing.”
“Thiago.”
“Can you see them? Finn will take you back to the Hallow. Baylor’s going after his brother.”
“No. I want answers.”
“Vi—”
“Andraste warned me to run. She knows what they did to him. And she knew he was going to attack me.”
“Good luck getting answers out of her,” he growls. “She’s refusing to say a word to me.”
I freeze, gripping the tree branch as Baylor crashes through the forest below me. “Just what are you doing right now?”
A whirl of disorientation and then I’m looking out through his eyes and down into my sister’s stubborn face, one hand curled around her throat and the other pressing the tip of a knife to her carotid.
“Negotiating,” he says.
The tent is a writhe of mayhem when we return.
I sent Baylor after Lysander, and found a pair of Evernight guards awaiting me at the edge of the forest with Finn.
And while Finn wanted to obey Thiago’s orders, I told him he could either carry me kicking and screaming toward the Hallow, or he could accompany me back to the tent.
Andraste’s voice rings out. “Get your hands off me—”
“Relax, Princess,” replies my husband. “None of us wants to put their hands on you. Tell me what I want to know and I’ll set you free. Or better yet, why don’t we ask the pet? He seems to know more about what your mother intends than you do.”
Edain laughs. “The queen intends to wait you out. You can’t last too much longer, can you? It’s already itching through you—”
I try to pause, to listen, but it’s too late.
Thiago looks up and sees me standing there in the entrance to the tent. He shoots Finn a murderous look.
Finn holds his hands in the air. “This wasn’t my idea.”
“No, it was mine,” I growl. “What is going on? What is Mother waiting for?”
Edain stands at bay behind the tip of a drawn sword. Eris must have caught him by surprise, because there’s no sign of his knife. “Secrets, Princess. All these delicious secrets. There you stand with all your sanctimonious pride, taunting me with freedom, and yet your husband hasn’t told you the truth. How much freedom do you truly have, Princess?”
Thiago straightens, lowering the blade from Andraste’s throat. “Vi—”
“Did you think the cursebinder was meant for you, Iskvien?” Edain pushes the tip of Eris’s sword away from his throat.
The link between us is still there. “What is he talking about?”
“We’ll discuss it later.”
“Really? Because it sounds as though you didn’t intend to discuss it at all.”
Thiago’s lips press thinly
