Or not at all. The thought brings me more joy than it probably should.
Laurel glances beyond the bars and presses closer. “You’re talking about poisoning the Briar King.”
The tips of my fingers tingle, but I can’t tell whether it’s from anticipation or fear. “I’m talking about saving the queens. Mariel and Aurora both.”
“How?” Aurora demands. “He’ll be expecting it. He already has tasters for every meal. And he obviously knows about the brooches. He probably has them in his keeping.”
“Something else, then. It can be anything.”
Laurel frowns. “You don’t have your kit.”
I swallow down a lump of guilt and rush on before I think better of it. “I don’t need it. My magic works differently than yours.”
“I see.” She sweeps a weighted look from my head to my feet. “And if anyone guesses? I can’t imagine that they would. The Dark Grace imprisoned and the king mysteriously struck down by the sleeping sickness.”
“I’ll leave, then. Hide.”
“No.” Aurora’s hand lands on my arm, firm. “We can’t possibly smuggle you out. I’m sorry, Alyce, but it was hard enough sneaking down here. If they know you’re gone—”
“You don’t need to worry about that.” And then, ignoring the instinct tapping against my sternum, I hold out my hand and Shift it to invisibility, wincing as exhausted bones and muscle obey my command.
“You’re a Shifter!”
“I knew it!”
They speak at the same time, Aurora batting cautiously at my missing hand. Gasping as her skin touches what her eyes tell her isn’t there.
“You did not know.” I glare at Laurel.
She shrugs. “I knew you were up to something.”
I roll my eyes. My Shift fades, skin prickling as it reappears.
Aurora swats at my wrist, as if expecting it to vanish again.
“You’re not—” The words are sticky. “Disgusted?”
She tucks a lock of my hair behind my ear. Smiles in that way that turns my heart into hot, melted wax. “Never.”
She presses a kiss into my palm and memories of our night together flow unchecked into my mind. Of how those kisses felt elsewhere.
“Well.” Laurel clears her throat, making us both blush. “Now that we have that settled. Shall we get back to the insane plan to poison the king?”
“Curse the king,” I correct. “But she’s right. It’s risky.”
“Everything is risky.” Aurora lets me go. “No matter what path we choose, it ends in ruin. Briar’s or mine.”
“But this could end in both.” Laurel begins ticking items off on her fingers. “If the king dies from the curse and you’re implicated, the people will never trust you. His supporters in the council will overthrow you. If it doesn’t work and he realizes what you’ve done, he’ll kill you, ending your line. Or Briar will descend into civil war. Or the Etherians could decide to take back the land and kill us all. Consider this carefully.”
“I am,” Aurora snaps. Laurel raises her eyebrows in silent challenge. But Aurora doesn’t waver. “I trust Alyce.”
A thousand emotions whirl through me at once—love and frayed nerves and terror and everything else. It’s difficult to tell them apart.
“How soon can you have the curse ready?” Aurora asks.
“As you said, Tarkin already knows about the brooches, so I’ll need something else of his. Something he won’t suspect. Can you get that?”
The light from her lantern stutters. “I think so.”
“Good. Then have Laurel bring it to me. It’s too dangerous to come yourself. I’ll go to the black tower. The ruins at the edge of the sea cliffs. I—” My long-held deception stings. “I’ve been practicing there.” But I still won’t utter Kal’s name. His secrets are his own.
“I’m afraid you two are forgetting a very important detail.” Laurel snaps her fingers between our faces. “I have not agreed to this plan.”
“But you’re here!” I protest. “You brought her to—”
“To discuss our strategy. Not to go along blindly with whatever you two love-struck imbeciles cook up. I’ve already voiced my thoughts on this plan.”
Aurora and I exchange panicked glances. We need Laurel for this to work.
“Do you have another, then? I’d love to hear it.”
Laurel rolls her shoulders back. Adjusts her cloak. “No,” she admits. “One is nearly as bad as the next. But I want assurances. A return on my investment.”
“Anything,” Aurora blurts out. I knock her with my elbow.
“Alyce is right.” Laurel tilts her head. “A queen needs to be far better at negotiations. Never promise something you might not be able to deliver.”
Aurora slumps a little, chastened. “What do you want, then?”
Laurel doesn’t hesitate. “You will abolish the Grace Laws once you take the throne. Dismiss the men serving on the Grace Council and replace them with Graces. We will be solely responsible for the management of the system and the selection of the members of the new Grace Council. There will be no interference from the royals or nobles or anyone else.”
“Done.”
Laurel smirks. “You are not Fae, Princess. I require more than your word.” From the inside of her cloak, she pulls out a tiny gilded knife. One the Graces use when preparing their enhancements. A ruby Briar rose glitters at the base of the hilt.
“What are you going to do with that?”
“A blood oath.” She slices her palm. Molten gold blood trickles down her wrist. “There’s just enough Etherian magic in a Grace’s blood to make it effective.” She wipes the knife on her skirts and offers it to Aurora. “Unless you refuse.”
“You don’t have to do it,” I say, nudging her.
“No. I want to. I have no intention of going back on my word.” She sets her lantern on the ground, takes the knife, and uses it to slit the skin of her palm.
“You will honor your promise regarding the Graces,” Laurel says, holding out her hand.
Aurora takes it, not an ounce of nerve showing. And then light erupts from their joined grip. A golden cord winds around their wrists, followed by a funnel of cold that gusts
