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Petrik sits up straighter. “We’ll immediately ask for an audience with Skiro. He’ll get us everything we need.”

“You sound confident,” Kellyn says. “Why would the prince bother to speak with us? We’re fugitives, for all he knows. We’re not in a place to ask for anything.”

Petrik looks off to the side of the road, his gaze falling into the passing trees. “I thought you would have pieced it together by now.”

“Pieced what together by now?”

“Kymora is my mother. You haven’t guessed who my father is yet?”

Kymora was King Arund’s general. The late queen died not long after giving birth to Prince Skiro. He was alone and grieving, and then there’s fierce Kymora, who gives birth to a child and sends him away to be tutored far from the palace…

By the Twins. He’s the king’s bastard son. Sent away so as not to be in the way. But when the realm was split, Skiro took leadership of the territory housing the Great Library. Petrik would have grown up close to this brother.

I should have put two and two together much sooner.

When Kellyn doesn’t get it, I help him out. “He’s the king’s son.”

“What?” Kellyn’s voice raises an octave.

Petrik says, “I’m very close with my brother. We grew up together. He’d do just about anything I asked, including helping the woman I— Temra. Including helping Temra.”

When Kellyn finds his voice again, he says, “Seriously? Is there anything else you’d like to share with the group? Any other secrets you’d like to just casually drop?”

“That wasn’t a secret!” Petrik says. “Everyone who knows my brother Skiro knows who I am to him.”

“Kellyn,” I say. “It doesn’t matter who his father is. It wasn’t ever relevant to our plight.”

“Really? It seems to me like knowing he has such a good relationship with hisprinceof a brother would have come in handy while we had Kymora chasing our asses!”

“If we had gone to Skiro for help, Kymora would have declared war on him and the innocents of that territory!” Petrik counters. “Would you put that on them? We can only go to my brother now because Kymora is no longer a threat! And besides, Ziva would never have allowed us to seek refuge from someone in a position of power like that while Secret Eater was still a problem.”

He’s certainly right about that, and Kellyn knows it, too, for the mercenary has nothing to say in response.

“So that’s the plan,” Petrik says, circling back to the matter at hand. “We ask my brother for help. He will give it to us. There’s nothing more to worry about.”

Except for Temra dying before we can reach the prince.

CHAPTER THREE

I’ve never before felt relieved to step foot in a big city.

Ordinarily, I find them horrifying. Too many stimulants: the people, the animals, the smells, the sounds.

But as the horses carry us up the steep incline, through the city gates, into the fuss of city life, I feel like I can breathe for the first time. Kellyn urges the horses faster, and the people of the capital leap away from the wagon, shouting curses at our backs.

We’ve arrived later in the day, so the streets aren’t as packed as they could be, but folk are still closing up their shops or rushing to find the last of their groceries.

The capital lies in the mountains, and the rumor is that Prince Skiro wanted to set up his rule as far from his elder brother Ravis as possible. The people are bundled in loose furs and thick boots. Fall hit the city early, it seems.

Petrik directs Kellyn toward the palace, taking us up winding roads with inclines that grow ever steeper. I can see hints of our destination peeking over the tops of the homes and businesses. The castle towers are the tallest structures in the city.

When we finally reach them, I see they’re connected to a vast wall surrounding the palace grounds. The gate is left lowered, admitting us within its boundaries.

Two massive figures line either side of the palace doors. One carved in whitest marble, the other deepest granite. Ebanarra and Tasminya, the Sister Goddesses.

When the wagon rolls to a stop, a patrolling guard steps up to us. “Petrik, you’ve returned!”

“I’m sorry, Leona, but I don’t have time for pleasantries. Please tell the prince at once that I’m here. I have a high-profile prisoner for him, and I beg the use of Serutha for our wounded companion.”