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Page 20 of A Court of Truth and Thorns (Royal Scout #2)

KALI

I find Wil pacing the perimeter of River Manor and drag him back to our suite, where Rune has already assembled the others. Walking into the ambush, Wil’s perplexed expression turns to bewilderment.

“I take it Rune and Kali are talking again?” he asks Luca by way of greeting.

Luca shrugs. “For about a quarter hour now.”

I stumble, momentarily losing my train of thought to savor that fact. Yes. We are talking. And stars, I like it.

Wil and Luca exchange amused glances.

I hold up my hands. “Never mind that. And Rune’s presence here has nothing to do with me. I mean, it does, but—” I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose. “Wil, you can’t marry Princess Raza.”

He sighs, leaning against the wall and sliding down it to the floor. “Have we found an army somewhere that I don’t know about?”

“Kali is right, Wil,” Rune says evenly, catching my eyes at the use of my name, asking permission.

I nod and Rune smiles slightly before reclaiming his path of thought.

“Even if Raza weren’t poisonous, did you hear that line about crowning her an equal, not a consort?

By Everett law, a father’s power over his daughter never fully dissolves.

Marry Raza and you are handing King Owain a seal of office.

There are always strings attached to any aid my father offers.

You have to have a stronghold of your own before engaging with him. On anything.”

Luca raises a hand. “Just so I’m clear, which side is Rune on today? Or is he Trace again?”

“He’s Rune,” I tell Luca. “And we are on our own side. The side that is going to refuse to play by either Bahir’s or Owain’s playbook.

” I glance at Rune. He nods. I face the room again.

“We need reinforcements. Powerful people who have little love for Bahir and no loyalty to Owain. Those would be the whisperers that the Order is enslaving. We return to Dansil, extract the whisperers, and then negotiate with Owain from a different vantage point. And,” I hope my racing heart stays well away from my voice, “while we are in Dansil, Rune kills Bahir. Then Owain will have to acknowledge his existence, giving Rune influence over the treaty terms.”

Silence.

Wil runs both hands through his hair. “You are crazy,” he informs Rune and me finally. “And coming from me, that’s an impressive distinction.”

“Agreed on both counts,” mutters Luca, his gaze shooting to Rune. “Stars, since when does he have more sense than you?”

“There are seven of us.” Wil holds up seven fingers, as if to make sure that I fully comprehend the number.

“ Seven. And of that seven, two are young girls who’ve never held a weapon and one is an old man.

” He winces. “No disrespect, Calvin, but I imagine your talents are better suited for tasks other than rushing headlong onto a battlefield.” Wil stares at the four fingers he has left and shakes the hand in the air.

“By this count, I and my extensive military training are twenty-five percent of our invasion force.”

Rune steps forward to stand by my shoulder. “We are seven,” he agrees. “Two princes. A warrior. Two guides into the Order’s underground passages. A man holding most of the kingdom’s secrets. And a mage.”

“Viva Sylthia terrorized two nations by using small units, not grand armies,” I say, surveying the room to ensure that my point is hitting its mark.

“Our power lies in our knowledge and agility. And in the fact that we’ll be tapping people who want us to succeed.

Jasmine and Alexa know the layout of the Order’s headquarters.

They can get us into the heart of the temple and then gather and calm the others.

We come by night, extract the whisperers, and use my shadow to conceal the retreat.

Come morning, panic sets in. And panicked soldiers make mistakes. ”

Rune nods. “One of those mistakes will leave Bahir open. One arrow and it is done.”

“Kali.” Rune closes the door behind him as he slips into our common room the following morning.

My hands twitch at my sides, longing to touch him but thinking better of it.

I’m unsure what we are to each other now—or what we should be until the fighting is over, until we reclaim the Dansil throne.

Rune clasps his hands behind his back. “What have I missed this morning?”

“Calvin is working with the girls and his own memory to create detailed maps of the temple and abbey and draw up likely patrol schedules for the guards. Luca is sweet-talking the kitchen staff and will start pilfering supplies as soon as he can manage. Wil and I were going to go riding and get a routine established for when we leave. We’ll also work out the staging route to get supplies and weapons out of the manor.

How long do you think we have before the noose your father has around Wil’s neck tightens beyond hope?

” How much longer can Dansil and Leaf wait?

“I’d wager that Wil can play the indecisive prince with my father for another week, no more,” Rune replies.

“And we need to make the most of it. I would like to take your place riding with Wil. My father remembers me as a self-absorbed boy, and it will be simple enough to play into his expectations.” Bitterness enters his voice, disappearing quickly behind a calm mask.

There is always a mask with Rune. Even when it’s only the two of us.

“What of me?” I ask.

A small smile touches his face. “I have someone I’d like you to meet. Tell the servants you’d like to go in search of certain herbs in the forest and see if they can find you a pair of pants and a tunic to wear. It will be better if I’m not seen spending too much time looking after your wellbeing.”

I lift a brow. “Scouts don’t like surprises.”

Rune gives me an infuriating snort. “Be in the woods on the backside of the stable by noon,” he says, showing himself to the door before I can reply. “There’s a large oak two hundred paces north. Make sure to sweep for a tail before going there.”

A few hours later, I do as instructed, cursing Rune for mentioning nothing of the wasps that haunt this particular area of the forest. I’d have thought the bloody insects would be dead or sleeping in this weather, but apparently, Everett wasps have adapted to the chill and stand ready to harass visitors at a moment’s notice.

I find Rune leaning against the massive oak when I arrive, a small satchel hanging over his shoulder and a hunched, vaguely human form standing beside him.

“Kalianna,” he says with a formal bow to me, “allow me to introduce Mistress Bobenshish. Your new magic tutor.”

The form moves to reveal a weathered face looking out from beneath a heavy cloak.

One of Bobenshish’s eyes is covered with a milky film, but the other, a brilliant sky blue, studies me intently.

Motioning for Rune to give her the satchel, she dismisses the prince with a wave of a gnarled hand and lays out a ream of living crystals on the ground.

I follow Rune as he attempts to slink away, and I grab his arm. “Who is Mistress Bobenshish?” I murmur.

“A whisperer,” Rune murmurs back. “One I trust to remain fully discrete, but mostly trust to not kill you. Good luck.”

“Well then, little mage,” Bobenshish calls disapprovingly, drawing me away from the retreating Rune. “Come here, drink up, and let’s see what you can do.”

The obvious answer is “not much,” but I’m smart enough to keep my mouth shut and do as I’m told.

As many times as I’m told to do it.

We start by filling my reserves from light crystals that Bobenshish tunes expertly to my blood.

I siphon the magic through a cut on my palm and practice concentrating and containing it.

Unlike the oily magic of healing crystals, the magic from the light crystals is thin and pliable.

It obeys my will easily and channels into a large shadow with great, but bearable, effort.

After three days of nonstop labor, I manage to channel a darkness ten paces across and hold it for a quarter hour. I spend the next six hours unable to lift my head. When I do, Bobenshish scowls at me. “Candy and child’s games,” she informs me.

“It worked,” I mumble.

“You’d need to drink from more light crystals than you could possibly carry,” she scoffs. “All for a quarter hour of brute force. In your fighting terms, you pulled back a bow. Once. Is there an army in any kingdom that would call that an archer ?”

The next hours and days meld together as I siphon magic from every type of crystal we can find, from heat and healing crystals to the more exotic ones Bobenshish pulls out from somewhere.

After some experimentation, the old witch concedes that light manipulation is most natural for me and redoubles her efforts on that front.

She doesn’t just want darkness—she wants light too, and she wants it shaped solidly.

A dagger, a shield, a spear. Each of my waking moments is spent either in the midst of trying something impossible or shaking in exhaustion.

At the end of the week, I’m competent in bending shadow from light, I can summon the occasional dagger, and most importantly, I have stretched my capacity for holding and controlling magical reserves to what Bobenshish declares passable levels.

I can even ingest magic from several crystal breeds at once, though the viscous healing magic is by far the most potent and difficult to control.

Bobenshish, however, informs Rune that I am more powerful than she likes and she would like for him to conjure up a couple of years for my training. Either that or we can just slit each other’s throats now and save everyone the trip to Dansil.

Neither of Bobenshish’s alternatives is an option, of course, and when the clock strikes three in the morning on the ninth day of our stay at River Manor, I gather up my things and slip out into the dark.

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