“I thought you’d enjoy that. You’d be the one to reap the rewards. Perhaps she might even name you heir.”
He freezes, and his eyes are glacial as he looks at me. “You know nothing of what I wish for, but let me assure you—your mother would have my head if I even thought to place myself on a throne.”
“You’re ambitious. I know that. Perhaps she’ll give you a duchy. She’ll need a strong vassal without me at her side.”
“It sometimes amazes me that you’ve spent the past seventeen years living with me, and yet, you truly understand so little of me.”
I do?
My eyes narrow.
“I’ll save you the breath.” Slipping my arm beneath his shoulder, he helps me to my feet. “Time to stand, Andraste. You’ve had your moment of respite, and now you need to show the court some of that fuck you attitude I always see in your eyes.”
“I’m being summoned before the court?”
Not like this.
Not with my hair tangled and blood still staining my clothes. I can’t reveal an inch of weakness.
“You’re being summoned before the court,” he says grimly. “Your mother has need of you.”
“Why?”
Edain heads for the door, leaving me wobbling behind him like a newborn foal. “Because we’re going to war, Andraste. Let us hope your sense of mercy has died a swift death in the oubliette. Because the enemy we face is your sister and her husband, and your mother has a trap planned.”
“Trap?”
There’s only one thing Mother can mean by that.
I have to stop her.
But do I dare?
I force myself to take a step toward the door, and I don’t fall flat on my face, which is an improvement.
“Yes.” Edain’s eyes glitter as he holds the door open for me. “And apparently you’re going to be the one to spring it.”
Chapter Three
Iskvien
Word comes the following morning.
The meeting will take place at Ruthvien.
“Why Ruthvien?” I ask, as I follow Thiago toward the Hallow in Ceres. The portal is housed in the second-tallest tower of the castle, and of course we have to climb four thousand stairs to get there. Give or take.
Mother could have chosen a thousand places to hold this meeting.
All of them suspect.
But Ruthvien is the heart of the ancient ruined Kingdom of Taranis. A thousand years ago it was a prosperous kingdom blessed with forests and pastureland. Now, the soil lies dry and cracked with a thousand runnels as if even the land itself thirsts.
One of Taranis’s northern Hallows was obliterated during the Unseelie wars five hundred years ago, and the blast of energy wiped out half the kingdom and some of neighboring Somnus. Year by year the blight creeps wider, until both kingdoms now lie fallow.
Nobody lives there. The Alliance of Light simply pretends both kingdoms no longer exist.
“Because I wouldn’t agree to any Hallow within Asturia and she wouldn’t venture into Evernight. She preferred Mistmere, but I refuse to play Adaia’s game. Ruthvien was my best alternative.”
“Somewhere nice and isolated,” Finn mutters under his breath as he falls in behind me. Thiago’s tasked the lean warrior with my protection, while Eris looks ready to spill blood as she falls in behind Thiago. “Nobody will find our bodies.”
Baylor rests a hand on the hilt of his sword, towering over all of us as he scowls. “Adaia hasn’t had time to muster an ambush. Thiago only sent through the location of the meeting two hours ago.”
“You underestimate my mother.” I can’t stop myself from tapping nervous fingers against my thigh. “She only needs a minute’s notice for murder.”
“You’re not helping, Princess,” Finn mutters.
“Why are you so on edge?” He’s been dueling with me every day in the yard for the past three months. I’ve never seen him slip the casual mantle he wears. Finn always pretends he’d laugh in the face of a screaming horde.
“Oh, I don’t know,” he mutters. “One murderous queen who can’t be trusted. A peace offering who just happens to be the one person we desperately want back. Did I mention your mother? And peace? Those two concepts together just scream ‘trap.’”
“Yes, but I thought you had balls of solid steel.”
“He’s always like this,” Eris snorts. “The second steel is bared he’ll be so cool he’ll make a glacier look like it’s sweating, but until then….”
“I just hate surprises,” Finn grumbles.
I steal a glance at Baylor. Lysander’s his twin brother. I’ve only ever met Lysander…. Curse it. I can only remember meeting him in bane form, but I saw the flare of desperation in Baylor’s eyes when Thiago said that my mother was offering Lysander back as a peace offering.
And I have to say it. “I agree with Finn. This is going to end badly. Why would my mother propose a peace offering? She wants our heads. She wants war.”
“She’s stalling,” Thiago murmurs. “This is merely a distraction. I also suspect she’ll present Lysander to us, and then have a guard drive a sword through his heart.”
Lysander and Baylor can die, but as long as the Grimm is still alive—even if he’s trapped in his prison world—the second the moon rises they’ll be resurrected.
“He’ll rise.”
“Still hurts like a bitch. And with every death….” Baylor’s face turns to stone. “With every death, it becomes a little more difficult to remember who you are.”
“As long as we’re near the Hallow we’re safe,” I mutter, as we enter the Hallow’s chamber.
The enormous chamber is round, and thirteen huge standing stones mark the edges of the Hallow. They were built to contain the energy that will rise when we activate the runes carved into their enormous columns.
Everyone takes their place inside the circle, a squad of a dozen guards falling in beside us, and nervousness runs through me.
The ley line calls to me, a soft whisper that stirs over my skin. I’ve always felt it, but it wasn’t until three months ago that I realized no
