Page 44 of Blood King, Part I (Crowns #4)

Chapter thirty-five

Collective footsteps rang through the hall outside his study. Cyrus looked up from his desk just as Kord pressed through the door with Hephain right behind him.

Two of the dogs growled from where they were lying under the window, annoyed at the disturbance.

“Two, Three,” Cyrus called to the animals, and they settled.

Cyrus was relieved it was Kord. His first thought was that it might be some of his councilmen coming by to discuss why he’d missed their council meeting. Again.

But that relief quickly evaporated when Kord reported, “Four grain wagons have been taken outside the Morset villages.”

Morset was where the hedge witches had been maintaining the largest of their growing fields, which had just become ready for harvest. “Do we know who did it?”

“There are rumors it’s the nobles,” Hephain said. “I’m sure they’re pressed for food, given that they don’t have access to the storehouses anymore.”

“I think it’s safe to assume those rumors are true,” Kord added, dropping a wrinkled leaflet onto the desk.

“We also found these nearby.” Another drawing of Essandra.

Another call to burn the witches, masked as a plea to “cleanse Rael.” It bore the same heavy text as the leaflets before, and his men were finding them scattered in pockets of the capital.

Cyrus’s jaw tightened. Of course the nobles were still trying to drive fear. If they couldn’t fight the witches head-on, they’d try to turn the people against them. And the people were already wary of the witches. He needed to put a stop to this.

“Was anyone hurt?” he asked.

Kord shook his head. “No, the wagons were taken in the night.”

“No more waiting until we have a full caravan, then,” he told them. “They’re to come here right as they’re loaded. Assign men to guard them. We’ve been too lax with security.” He picked up the leaflet, crumpling it in his hand. “And I want these found and destroyed. All of them.”

A pull came in his mind. Jaem.

“Jaem calls to me,” he told them. “See to the guard assignments. I’ll join you after.”

Kord nodded, and he and Hephain left on their task.

Cyrus followed the pull of the bond to Jaem.

He liked traveling to Jaem’s mind because Jaem had more control than others.

It wasn’t a chaotic storm of all his memories and all his dreams. He kept Cyrus confined to the quiet of their conversation in dark peaceful pockets of nothingness.

Kieve had been able to do the same. Cyrus had asked Essandra how they might have done this, whether they had some kind of ability.

They didn’t. Some simply could. Most couldn’t.

Jaem was waiting impatiently. “ You’re not going to believe this, ” he said as Cyrus entered.

Cyrus doubted that. He was rarely surprised now.

“ The Mercian queen has wed the Shadow King. ”

Cyrus froze, both in body and in mind. “ That can’t be right. ”

“ It is. Gone to three pubs now, and it’s all everyone is talking about. ”

He didn’t believe it. He’d seen her. He’d seen her go to Aleon. It had been a vision, not a dream—he was sure of it. She would wed the king of Aleon, not the king of the Shadowlands. This wasn’t right.

“ It stands to reason, though, ” Jaem said. “ I mean, he captured her. ”

“ How does that stand to reason? The Shadow King makes slaves of his prisoners, not wives. ”

“ Maybe he didn’t take her by force. ”

“ The Northmen with their throats slit on the way to Aleon would suggest otherwise. ” Cyrus leaned his weight onto his forearms on the desk, thinking. “ Has Aleon reacted to this news? ”

“ I haven’t heard anything yet, but I’ll see what I can find. ”

“ Essandra found a way to make a portal. We haven’t worked out exactly how to get everyone through it yet—there are limitations—but we’re close. ”

“ That’s good, because things are getting worse with Bravat. It’s not just the temples; he’s completely wrecking some of these small villages. ”

Cyrus swore. He needed to get Bravat back to Rael. Or figure out how to kill him.

“ How much blood do you have left? ” Cyrus asked.

“ Plenty. I hardly use any at all. It will last me a while. ”

“ All right. Keep your eyes on everything. Let me know if you hear anything else about the Shadow King. I’ll update you when we talk next. ”

Cyrus opened his eyes back to the parchments on his desk. He stared at them for a moment, but his mind wouldn’t focus on them anymore.

He left his chamber and, weaving through the halls, made his way out across the ambulatory. He wasn’t quite sure where he was going, he just needed to walk. He needed to think.

The Mercian queen had married the Shadow King?

That couldn’t be right. Cyrus pushed through the palace doors and outside.

That couldn’t be right. Mercia had been at war with the Shadowlands for over a decade.

The Shadow King had clearly captured her with malicious intention.

What would a marriage gain them? Peace? What good was that?

Cyrus rounded a corner and slowed as he saw Aaron and Amiel, the two guards he’d assigned to Essandra’s protection. They stood at the palace garden gates.

“Where is she?” he asked.

“Inside.” Amiel motioned to the garden. “She bid us to stay here.”

“Is there anyone with her? Two more women?”

They both shook their heads. “She’s alone,” Aaron said.

That wasn’t a good sign. He stepped into the garden. It didn’t take him long to find her on a bench by the fountain between two sunstone statues.

She didn’t move as he neared, but she knew he was there. Silently, he sat beside her. Her eyes stayed fixed on the fountain in front of her.

Cyrus’s gaze caught on her forearms. Cuts scored her skin from where she’d pulled her blood for the spell.

Over and over again. They started neatly just below her elbows but grew longer and deeper—more uneven—as they moved toward her wrist, and finally, her hand.

Each gave evidence of growing desperation.

Blood stained her dress underneath where her arms lay, but he didn’t say anything. He only waited.

“It didn’t work,” she whispered finally.

He’d gathered that. “What happened?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know.” Her lip trembled. “I don’t know,” she said again. “Maybe I’m not reading the spell right. Maybe I’m missing something, or there’s a timing element.”

He wasn’t exactly sure what to say but felt compelled to say something , to reassure her. “Well, whatever it is, you have the bowl. The trees keep blooming. You have time—”

“I don’t have time!”

He didn’t react to her snap. She shook her head again. “I’m sorry. I just…” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I know it sounds stupid, but I thought I’d see them today. I thought today …” Her eyes teared.

He wanted to touch her, to comfort her, but she didn’t want that from him. That wasn’t what he was to her. So, he just reassured her the best he could. “It’s not stupid. And you’ll figure it out. You’ll bring them back.”

“What if I can’t?” She crossed her arms and clutched herself. “What if I can’t?”

“Don’t say that,” he told her firmly. “Look at me.”

She rocked herself on the bench.

“Look at me,” he demanded.

Her red-rimmed eyes met his.

“You’ll figure it out. You’ve already done the impossible—finding the bowl. Now it’s just figuring out the smaller pieces. You’ll get it. Do you hear me?”

She nodded and settled back against the bench again.

They sat.

“We should get you to Teron,” he told her. He didn’t like her cut and bleeding. He didn’t like it at all.

“In a little while,” she said. “I need the pain right now. It helps.”

He understood that. He still didn’t like it, but pain did help sometimes. They sat longer.

The bubbling water of the fountain was peaceful. He liked sitting here. With her.

“I hate to push you for this right now,” he said after a little while, “but I just talked to Jaem. We’re running out of time with Bravat. I need to get him back here. Have you figured out the portal?”

She shook her head. “Not yet,” she said. “But I’m close. I’m just trying to figure out multi-tether bonding. I’ve never done it before.”

He nodded. At least they were close.

“Jaem learned some news,” he shared. “The Mercian queen has wed the Shadow King.”

Her gaze flicked to him.

“I’m not sure how that’s possible,” he continued. “She’s supposed to wed the king of Aleon—I saw her ride to Aleon. I saw her in Mercian colors on the Shadow throne, and the Shadow King was not by her side. It doesn’t make sense.”

Her brow dipped.

He sighed. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to trouble you with this. I don’t know why I brought it up. You have enough to deal with.”

“No, I’m glad you did,” she said quickly. “Will you show me?”

His brows dropped. “What?”

“Show me the vision.”

His brow tightened and he shook his head. “How?” How was he to show it to her?

She sighed. “I keep forgetting you don’t know how to do any of this.” Her words were chastising, but her voice was kind. “Some of it should come naturally, you know.”

Well, it didn’t.

She grabbed his hand. She was gentle this time, with a simple prick to his finger with her knife, and she dabbed a small smudge of his blood on her palm. He felt the bond immediately.

“Now,” she said. “I don’t know the traveler’s blood spell, but you can still do it, you just need to focus.”

“How am I supposed to do it without the spell?”

She frowned. “The spell isn’t the source of the power.

You are. Spells only help focus your power, and channel it.

You can still do it. It just might be… a little all over the place.

You’ll have to work harder to control it.

” She shifted on the bench, getting more comfortable.

“Now, when you close your eyes, relax. Let yourself drift and follow the call of your blood.”

He knew how to enter minds. He wasn’t a complete idiot when it came to his power. Cyrus closed his eyes and followed the pull.

Essandra let him into her mind. She stood in front of him in the center of a long hall, with doors lining each side.