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“I’ll have to return to Beldroth,” Artoris declares at last, stirring his fire with the end of a long stick just to watch the sparks fly. “Gods skewer me, I never wanted to see that cursed place again! But I must inform the king of Ilsevel’s death and urge him to somehow fulfill the marriage bargain with the Shadow King after all. He has other daughters; one of them can surely take Ilsevel’s place. It’s going to take a troll army to defend Evisar if the fae come marching on our gates.”

He turns then to where she stands, right there on the edge of that drop. If he’s concerned for her safety, it does not show in either his voice or expression. “I won’t keep you and your people here, Shanaera,” he says. “I know you must return to Cruor, to replenish your strength. I need you there in any case. Evisar is going to need a steady supply of unicorn blood if we are to survive what is coming. Can you do that?”

Can she? Can she lead the warped corpses of men who used to be her battle brothers into the stricken land that was their home, hunting down the very creatures whom they once held in sacredreverence? Can she be the monster, devouring and hungry, that she needs to be in order to survive? In order to bring about the righteous end she has secretly purposed in her heart?

She smiles at the mage, her half-rotted mouth twisting. “Absolutely I can.”

And while she’s hunting down licorneir, she will keep her eye open for Taar and the little princess. Because something tells her—call it an intuition, perhaps—that when she finds one, she will find the other. Then all will be made right. Her kingdom will be delivered, these gods-damned Miphates will be obliterated, and she and Taar will reign as king and queen over the newly liberated Kingdom of Licorna.

Forever.

TO BE CONTINUED