Page 35

Soon, we joined the crowd that gathered in the throne room. The tables where we had worked all day had been cleared, replaced by a large sand sculpture. It depicted a grand shipping vessel, the symbols of each isle displayed across its base, and across the room, the artist was hard at work on a second masterpiece, entertaining questions by the curious courtiers.

Ayla and Rhett were quickly approached by several other merchants. Through their niceties, it was obvious what they wanted—insight into Valterra. What goods did she think would be in highest demand, what did the humans need that had not been developed, and on and on they went.

Keeping her in my line of sight, I wandered through the room, catching breadcrumbs of conversation barely detectable over the live music.

“…the sand sculpture snubbed Wisp. Their symbols are missing.”

“…such interest in the part-fae is unnecessary, as if we don’t have ledgers of our own to tell us what humans value.”

My fist clenched at the sound of this, eager to send the message of exactly how far they underestimated Ayla, even if their disinterest should have been a relief.

“…we’ve finished producing the first delivery of weapons you requested.”

I froze, overhearing this final phrase, uncertain who the speaker was. The words had come from behind a pillar, the fae tucked out of sight just beyond the pavilion. I settled into the darkness behind them.

Bracelets clinked as the speaker rolled his wrist and continued.Lord Tallus.“The collars are frustratingly intricate, so I hope you aren’t asking for many more. Fortunately, the enchanted spears are straightforward, and we’ll be able to produce countless more.”

“Excellent,” his companion replied, and I shifted my position, finding there was no location in which the light hit his face. Regardless, I would know that voice anywhere.

“How are the other prototypes?” the Starlit King asked. “The siege weapons, the poisons?”

“Promising, but our artisans are still fine-tuning the process.” Tallus glanced away nervously. “And who, dare I ask, are you planning to sell these weapons to?”

The Starlit King just smiled. “Do not worry. The Isles will remain safe, and moreover, we willallprosper. Trust me, for all your assistance, my dearCollector,Mer will benefit.”

Collector.Tallus had worked with Inarus under that name, providing the necromancer with supplies and gold.

Amused, Tallus glanced at the mer throne, the ancient fae kings having never made an appearance. “Someone needs to ensure Mer’s future.”

“Indeed,” the Starlit King agreed.

I leaned closer, hoping to learn more, except Tallus left, sliding back into the festivities as if he had never been on their fringe. But I wouldn’t forget.

The Starlit King was buying the weapons Mer was producing. Weapons he claimed wouldn’t threaten the fae.

All of it troubled me as I watched the Starlit King linger behind. He glanced at the throne and tapped the dagger at his waist. It was a nervous tick, one I’d watched for years, and after learning that this dagger was one of the mysterious dragon blades…

There was more to this than a nervous habit.

Suddenly, the Starlit King stared in my direction. His lips tightened into a frown.

My breath caught, my shadows thickening. His hands were dull, and without accessing his powers, he couldn’t possibly pierce my darkness, right? I waited.

No, he was lookingthroughme, glaring toward the west. He looked almost… wistful.

And then the moment passed. Shaking his head, he returned to the ballroom.

Curious, I turned in the direction he had been looking, bringing forth the lens of death. In my pocket, the two shards glowed bright. To my left and right, the shards of Lord Tallus and the Starlit King gleamed from their respective wings of the palace. And before me…

A low purple hue simmered on the western horizon.

The Isle of Dusk.

The seventh shard was there. I was now certain of it, and my fist clenched, suspecting the Starlit King knew this too. If he had studied the shards enough to collect them, he must have suspected where the seventh was hidden.

Only to never collect it.

My stomach pitted. A wave of uncertainty filled me—but the emotion was larger than expected. No, this dread was far thicker than my emotion alone.