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The ride to Blackwater Bog was quicker than Kiva had anticipated, perhaps twenty minutes once she left the city’s walls and nudged her horse into an easy canter, with them skirting the Wildemeadow’s rolling hills until the land flattened and turned marshy, heralding the swamp up ahead.

Given how swift her travels were, Kiva remained confident she would return to Caldon long before he woke — and that she’d beat the looming rain clouds that were moving steadily closer. Her certainty only grew when she passed an elderly man walking his dog in the sleepy little village, and he happily provided directions to Murkwood Cottage, along with a warning that Delora valued her privacy. Because of that, Kiva had to travel much deeper into the Crewlling Swamplands than she’d hoped, but at least the path, while narrow and soggy, seemed safe enough.

“Easy, boy,” she told her nervous mount, patting his neck. “We’re nearly there.”

Rounding one final bend, she finally saw Murkwood Cottage up ahead, surrounded by thick vegetation and nestled beside a murky body of water. Made of stone with a thatched roof and a smoking chimney, the dwelling was quaint — in a creepy, swampish way.

When Kiva came to a halt, she’d barely dismounted before the front door burst open and a white-haired woman hobbled out, a cane in her hand that she lifted into the air and brandished like a weapon.

“Private property!” she screeched from her porch. “This is private property! Can’t you read?”

She pointed to a sign on the path so covered in moss that Kiva could barely make out the two capitalizedPs, let alone the rest.

“I’m looking for Delora,” Kiva said, not leaving her horse’s side in case she needed to make a quick getaway. “Is that you?”

The elderly woman squinted at Kiva for a long minute, then thumped her cane on the ground, moving an angry step forward. “I told you never to come back here, girl! I won’t give you what you want — not now, not ever!”

Kiva stilled. Zuleeka and Torell had said they’d visited with their mother, but that had beenyearsago. Did Delora think Kiva was Tilda? Herdaughter?

“I’m sorry,” Kiva said, her throat tight. “But we’ve never actually met. I’m Kiva.”

Delora’s squint deepened, her familiar emerald eyes — Corentine eyes — mere slits, before she finally leaned back on her haunches. “Ah, so you’re not the she-devil.” Brandishing her cane again, she said, “But I’m guessing she sent you here. I won’t give it to you, either, so go back to where you came from. Shoo!”

“Please,” Kiva said, raising her hands. “I’m not here for anything.” She quickly corrected, “I mean, Iam, but not —”

“I won’t give it to you!”Delora repeated, yelling now.

Kiva was at a loss, so she blurted, “I need your help controlling my magic.”

Delora’s mouth snapped shut. She pressed her lips together, looking Kiva over from head to toe. “You’re the one she left to rot in that prison, aren’t you? The one she said was better off there?”

Kiva’s face paled, but she reminded herself that Delora hadn’t seen her mother in nearly a decade, and there was no way Tilda would have thought Kiva was “better off” inside Zalindov.

“I was locked away for ten years,” Kiva said in answer. “I kept my magic hidden that whole time and didn’t use it until a few weeks ago when I healed someone who was dying. Now it’s bursting out of me at random.”

“So?” Delora said, raising two bushy white eyebrows.

“So,” Kiva said through gritted teeth, “I’m living at the royal palace. With the Vallentis family.”

Delora threw back her head and laughed. Something in the murky water — somethinglarge— moved quickly at the sound, ducking beneath the surface before Kiva could see what it was.

She has a very unusual guard dog,Torell had warned.

Shuddering, Kiva waited for her grandmother’s humor to fade. Finally, she tapped her foot on the ground and said, “I’m glad you find this funny.”

“Give me a minute,” Delora said, still chuckling. “I’m just trying to imagine it. I assume they have no idea who you are?”

“No. And I’d like to keep it that way.”

“Let me guess,” the old woman drawled, leaning more of her weight onto her cane. “You plan to follow blindly in your family’s ill-fated footsteps, seeking to steal a throne that you believe is yours for no other reason than a diluted bloodline. Am I right?”

Kiva said nothing.

Delora snorted, then turned to hobble back through her front door. “I can’t help you, girl.”

“Can’t, or won’t?” Kiva asked, tying her reins around a low-hanging branch and hurrying up the porch steps.

“Won’t.” Looking over her shoulder, Delora added, “Go back to your palace and your vengeance, and leave me alone.”