This must have been what she wanted to tell me in secret.
And what was it the oracle said?
That I would understand everything…. Not that I would have the crown in my possession.
Suddenly shouts echo through the halls. My mother’s warriors. Andraste’s attention jerks upward, and then she backs away. “Go. I’ll cover you. I’ll tell them it was me. That I set this entire affair off.”
“What about Mother?” I ask sharply.
The expression melts off Andraste’s face. “I’ve been lying to her for years. What’s another lie? I’ll tell her I was meeting a male for a secret assignation.”
My eyebrows rise. “You’ve been lying to her for years? You?”
She hesitates and then tips her chin up. “We all have secrets, Vi.”
“We never used to have secrets.”
Andraste gives me a sad little smile. “Sometimes it’s the only way to protect those we love. I hope one day you’ll understand that.”
What does that mean?
“Down here!” Someone yells.
“We need to go,” Eris says, grabbing my hand.
“Come on, come on, come on.” I slice my hand with the dagger, searching the columns for runes I might recognize.
Is this even going to work?
There. I see Valerian’s glyph and dart toward it, before skidding to a halt. The rune is half-crumbled.
“Be ready,” I yell at Eris. “This might be a rough ride.”
And then the world turns inside out and plunges me straight into darkness.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The plan is reckless. It’s dangerous. It relies upon the fact that I can trust my sister to keep her mouth shut about our need for the crown, when the past has proven such trust to be worth so little.
It’s barely been two days since the revelation at Briar Keep, and it’s taken me every second of those two days to convince Thiago to risk this stealthy assault. Especially after he found nothing at Clydain except for an empty keep.
Eris, surprisingly, was the one who convinced him.
“I don’t think the Princess of Asturia was lying,” she told him last night. “I don’t think she’s telling the entire truth, but Andraste had multiple chances to turn Vi over to their mother and she didn’t take it.”
“If you were going to gamble my wife’s life on such a statement,” he said coldly, “would you throw the die?”
Eris hesitated, but she finally nodded. “Yes.”
And Thiago closed his eyes and surrendered, though this time, he’s not going to allow me to risk this without him.
The eve of Imbolc dawns.
And with it my mother’s spring celebrations, in which the entire aristocracy of Asturia will be invited into Hawthorne castle to celebrate. It’s our best chance to get close to the crown.
It’s our only chance.
Finn and I slip into Asturia by way of the Briar Keep Hallow and make our way toward Hawthorne castle. We hitch a ride with a drayman carting wine, and the slow pace makes my skin itch, even though I know it’s for the best.
Imbolc is one of Asturia’s most widely celebrated holidays—when summer slays winter. Every town and village we pass is setting up poles on their village greens, but the castle is where the grand celebrations will be held.
“Ready?” Finn murmurs as the drayman turns his mules toward the castle.
We call farewell as dusk starts to fall and slip from the cart before turning into the woods. Once there, I strip out of my woolen peasant gown and haul on the silk dress I had tucked in a bag hidden under my skirts.
The dress is the color of a bitten plum, though it lightens through the skirts until the very hem is almost silver. A feathered mask covers my face, and Thalia found an auburn wig for my hair. Every inch of me is bedecked for a festival, though my leather boots reach midthigh and there are two daggers sheathed in them.
I feel ready to face my mother for the first time in my life. Not as a beggar or a child desperate for her attention, but as a survivor. As someone who has something to protect. She won’t take my love away from me, not this time.
And she won’t ever get her hands on the child I’m sure is within me.
Minstrels stroll through the forests, plucking chords on their lutes as they tune them. A pair of winged demi-fey hang feathers in the trees, wearing miniature versions of red and gold livery. The air of excitement hangs in the air.
Imbolc was always my favorite holiday.
“Are you in?” Thiago murmurs, his thoughts sliding over mine like a gloved hand shielded in cool leather. He and Eris hide within the woods several miles north. Close enough for them to rescue us if anything goes awry, but not too close for someone to feel the resonance of their fae magic.
Finn’s magic is strange enough that he doesn’t feel like fae, and my connection to Evernight vanished the second we arrived at the Hallow. While some of my mother’s guards might scan the resonance of their guest’s magic, I was counting on the fact that I’ll only rate as someone of middling talent.
“Nobody’s questioned us,” I reply, tucking my arm through Finn’s elbow. “The guards scanned us from a distance, but whatever part of me was born in this court must have felt familiar enough that no alarms were sounded.”
Finn takes my hand. “Are you ready, my love?”
His eyes twinkle, and I know he’s merely teasing me—just as I know Thiago can hear every word he utters through our mental link.
“I’m going to kill him,” whispers a dark voice in my head.
“Stop being so territorial,” I whisper back. “And get out of my head. I need to concentrate.”
The fae of my mother’s court already dance beneath the trees of the royal hunting preserve. Music hums through the air; the harps my mother favors spilling soft sounds even as bards sing of cruel hearts and poisonous kisses.
“This way,” I tell Finn, pushing him into the shadows of the trees. “If my mother follows her usual routine, she’ll be by the lake. We’ll skirt the banquet
