Page 39 of A Crown of Tears and Treason (The Curse of Silver Secrets and Cruel Shadows #1)

Chapter

Thirty-Nine

EVIE

S haking muscles.

Agonizing heat.

Blue tendrils.

Harsh breathing.

Flicker .

“There.” Pride flowed through my veins as the candle’s wick ignited–then kept on burning, the flame growing. “Damn, wait.”

I closed my eyes and took one deep breath after another. I was safe, sitting in my library, surrounded by the people I loved most. Slowly, the tendrils receded, sliding back into that imaginary pocket of power in my chest.

Only then did I open my eyes again, only to be met with my cousins’ smiling faces.

“See, I told you she had it,” Allie said, shoulder shimmying with pride.

The library table was overflowing with books that had arrived on my doorstep in a crate labeled “family heirlooms”, written in a weird, swirly text. Goose had tried to open it before I had a chance, only to be jolted back against the wall.

One hazy portal rose from each book, each belonging to one of my cousins. Having them all here, even in such a small way, had put a permanent smile on my face. They were breathing. They were safe–as safe as we all could be in the vicious Clan world.

“I always knew she had it. Congratulations, Evie.” Clara beamed like the sunflower she was, her warmth somehow permeating from the portal into the library.

“Yes, yes, well done.” Dax raised his glass in a phantom toast, reclining in his leather chair like he didn’t have a care in the world. I didn’t know what amber liquid swiveled inside the glass, but he’d already refilled it twice. “Now you can incinerate all those assholes. I heard you crisped up some Serpents real good.”

And almost blinded two elders. From what Leesa had gathered, they were doing well and back with their families, who’d recently received an anonymous delivery of enough food to last them at least five months. Just because they never wanted to see me again didn’t mean I couldn’t do something . “I don’t plan on crisping up anyone anytime soon.”

Dax shrugged. “Shame. Some of these Blood Brotherhood bastards and bastardesses deserve a good flick off their pedestal.”

“Absolutely no flicking, slicing or poisoning.” Allie’s voice cut through. “We’ve talked about this. And you have more important things to do than plotting the murder of your soon-to-be extended family.”

“It’s still on the list,” Dax grumbled and took another swig from his glass.

Before I could ask exactly what important things my mysterious cousin was up to–I truly was as curious as a cat– Dara speared me with her sharp, bottomless gaze. “Was the crate disturbed?”

“It tried to fry Goose,” I said.

Dax licked his lips. “Mmm, fried goose.”

A ghost of a smile twisted Dara’s lips. “It means the glyphs worked. I’m surprised the Blood Brotherhood allowed it to reach your home.”

Clara winked. “Perhaps a certain shadowy prince loosened the rules for a certain First Family Daughter.”

A shadowy prince who was gone before I woke up today, with only his scent and a plump purple flower left behind on his pillow.

I cleared my throat and shifted in my seat. “I don’t know how the crate got here, but it did. Maybe because I signed that bloody contract as the Protectorate member I am.”

“You already signed?” Clara gasped, eyes widening. “Am I–am I the only one who hasn’t yet?”

All of my cousins shook their heads. They hadn’t had an arranged marriage looming over them since birth, though.

“I am in absolutely no hurry to do that, thanks,” Dara said.

I felt my face heating and I was powerless to stop it. “Well, I did. It was only a formality for me, might as well get it over with, right?”

Dax’s glass froze midway to his mouth. A slow grin spread over his face, but it wasn’t exactly warm. “Is everyone seeing what I’m seeing?”

“Yes,” Allie said, suddenly very interested in her nails.

“Grrreat. I was starting to think The Viper slipped something into my glass.” Dax leaned forward. “Tell me Evie, precious cousin, the light of grandpa Constantine’s eyes, how are things going with The Dragon?”

“I–” I gulped. “Decent. Things are decent.”

“She’s blushing,” Dara murmured.

Clara shrugged. “Let her blush. At least one of us should find a shred of happiness in this whole mess.”

Dax sighed. “Yes, yes, happy life. But with the Blood Brotherhood prince of all people?”

“Hey!” I said, louder than intended. “I’m standing right here.”

They were doing it again. Talking among themselves at a pace and with a familiarity that stung. They meant well, they did, but it still hurt.

“Yes, you are,” Allie said kindly. “Dax was just concerned–”

“And I appreciate it–” I did, so much. “But don’t coddle me. Can you honestly say none of you has softened the tiniest bit when it comes to your Blood Brotherhood fiances?”

Silence. And shifting in their seats while averting their gazes. I felt vindicated.

Except for Dara. She shrugged. “I haven’t. I don’t even know where he is now. Probably tinkering with his weapons in the basement, messing up my shelves.”

“You’re right, Evie,” Dax said slowly. “I was an asshole, I apologize. Just…be careful.”

I huffed a heavy sigh. “I’m trying to.”

It was so damn hard. Zandyr was nowhere near me and this little gathering, but I almost felt him, even from halfway across Phoenix Peak. The pulses of his emotions fluttered at the recesses of my mind–he felt…vindicated? Today’s meeting with the Senate must have gone well.

Emboldened, I cleared my throat, straightening my shoulders. “I actually wanted to ask you all about something I haven’t been able to find. Have you ever heard of ritualistic Clan killings that involved slash–slashing someone’s throat? Or anything about the Quorilith Clan?”

The corners of my eyes still stung while talking about it. But my parents wouldn’t have wanted me crying over them. They would have wanted revenge.

Heavy silence settled over us.

“I can ask Soryn,” Clara said, hesitant at mentioning her own fiance. “He knows everything. He can recite the Code by heart. Every line. Who does that?”

“Do you trust him?” I asked.

“Not in the least,” she said without blinking.

“Then best not to.”

“Quorilith,” Dara sounded out, gaze hazy. “The Clan that hid in the Forbidden Swamps, right? Super violent, super old?”

“You tell me, you seem to know more about it,” I said, the tinkling of curiosity drawing me closer to her portal, a wisp of vapor that rose from a powder-blue book.

“Not much, they didn’t exactly leave written traces behind. They were suspicious of everyone and the feeling was quite mutual. Old scholars theorized they engraved their dangerous spells on the walls in their dungeons, but nobody has ventured into one of their sunken temples in centuries. Nobody who came back alive, that is. They dealt in dark magic.”

“How dark?” Allie asked, making me feel better for not knowing so many parts of Clan history. The Quoriliths had really wanted to stay hidden.

“They only worshiped gods of death and lies. It’s said the water in their swamps turned red with the blood of the ones they sacrificed before battle,” Dara went on in a matter-of-fact tone, as if reciting from a manual.

The library turned icy as we all stilled, entranced by Dara.

“Legends say that’s why their temples fell. Because the blood seeped into the ground and swallowed them up. Others say the blood turned that place into a swamp, that it had been a beautiful, lush forest before. Hard to say when that happened so long ago. The Quoriliths seemed unpleasant, I haven’t studied their Clan all that much. I’d rather read about the Bone Bridge.” Dara jerked her chin at me. “But why don’t you ask your prince about it? He must know more and I’m sure they must have at least second-hand recollections hidden somewhere.”

He hadn’t seemed to. “Why would he?”

Dara’s brows rose. “Because his ancestors defeated the Quoriliths. The few survivors of their heinous Clan were absorbed into the Blood Brotherhood.”