Page 51

Chapter 51

Rahk

I pore over the lists on my desk. Anything to distract me from the plunging despair. Anything to keep from trying to reason away Kat’s concerns—even though I knew from the start that she was right. I cannot visit Harbright regularly. Lord and Lady Nothril would find out, and they would send Pelarusa to kill Kat. But part of me insists there must be some way to make it work.

I need to stop going around and around in my head over this. Just for a little bit.

So I search the lists of every person, from the greatest to the smallest, who was present in each Court recently infiltrated by the Ivy Mask. He has someone working with him. Someone who can access any of the Courts without raising suspicion. If my hunch is correct, I will find a name that is on each of these lists. The lists are extensive, however, and with how long it’s been since I slept, my eyes start to glaze over.

Until I land on one name. My heart quickens.

It’s not a name, but a title. One I am familiar with.

The Human Tailor of Valehaven.

He was there at the Nothril Court when the Ivy Mask last struck. I quickly scan the next list. Human Tailor of Valehaven. Then the next. And the next.

Every single one.

“There you are.” I run my finger over the dried ink. The Ivy Mask’s accomplice is the Valehaven tailor. The thrill of the discovery pulses through my blood, temporarily relieving my aching heart. I pen a quick message and get to my feet.

Now I won’t only know when the Ivy Mask is in Caphryl Wood. I will know exactly what Court he is going to strike before he gets there. The chase hums in my bones. This is just the break I needed after . . . everything . This is something concrete and tangible. Something I can lay hold of and claim.

Something that will help me catch the Ivy Mask before Pelarusa is forced to join me.

“Edvear!” I call, leaving my cloak behind and strapping both of my broadswords over my back. I’d rather leave without Kat seeing me this way, so I wait until my steward slips into my study.

Edvear bows and shuts the door when he sees the look on my face. He glances between me and my blades. “What can I do for you, my lord?”

“Please tell Lady Katherine that I will be gone until late this evening.” I must retrace my steps to every Court I have access to on this side of the Veil and give the notice to send an alert the moment the Valehaven tailor arrives.

“If she asks where you are, what shall I tell her?”

I shift my weight. “Tell her . . . that Lord Oliver invited me to join him fishing after checking on the troll.”

It’s not a lie—he did send an invitation to join him. One that I am refusing.

Edvear bows. “Yes, my lord.”

I dismiss him with my thanks. To avoid running into Kat, I climb out the window. I draw stronger on my glamour magic to conceal me until I’m safely away from any prying eyes. It sends pain shooting through my shoulders, but I ignore it. Soon enough, I’ll be back in my own world where such magic use won’t be more than a mere thought.

It is easier to maintain a glamour this strong nearer the Wood. I keep myself completely invisible as I fly through the air and dive down past the hill.

The queen’s men have already arrived. It is a large company of her most elite warriors. They fill the valley, arranging themselves between enormous ripening fruits and vegetables, and face Ymer. The troll sits where he usually is, his back hunched, his rotted teeth bared toward the warriors, his hand gripping his club. He does not look like much of a threat beyond his monstrous size, and he is slow, but few humans know just how strong one of his blows is.

The people usually here are nowhere to be found—thankfully. Perhaps they scattered when they heard the warriors were coming.

As I watch, the queen arrives on a beautiful white horse. She wears a gown of rich green, with a train that covers the rump of the horse, and a tall crown of gold rests atop her head. Another twenty of her elite surround her as she approaches the troll.

She better not be attacking the troll instead of bidding him peacefully to leave.

I brace myself, drawing my sword silently. Don’t make me intervene.

Queen Vivienne rides her horse toward Ymer, who snarls at her approach. He gets to his feet, rising to his full height, and flexes his grip on his club.

“Who goes over yonder?” he booms. “Ymer will make cakes out of your teeth and eat them for dessert!”

The queen draws her horse to a halt. Fear flickers across her expression when she sees just how large and powerful this troll is.

Do not back down, I want to growl at her. I wish it was Kat who had this responsibility instead of the queen. She would not falter. She also would not have dragged this out so long.

The queen lifts her voice and calls across the field: “As the ruler of this land, I come to bid you, troll of Faerieland, to leave immediately!”

“Eh?” Ymer calls back. “Ymer hears not small woman on hornless unicorn!”

His voice carries where hers did not. I rake a hand down my face. This is going just about as well as I expected.

The queen, after a moment of hesitation, firms her brow and marches forward. At last, she is close enough to be heard—but not close enough that the troll’s club can find its mark.

“As the ruler of this land,” the queen shouts again, “I come to bid you, troll of Faerieland, to leave immediately!”

Ymer visibly stiffens at the disrespectful address. His ears flap at the flies buzzing around his head. He takes one step toward the queen. She pulls her horse back, her warriors rushing to create a barrier between her and the troll.

The troll gives a long sniff. Then his lumpy eyebrows draw together in a furious line. “Small woman on hornless unicorn tries to trick Ymer the Indefatigable? Small woman on hornless unicorn lies to Ymer the Indefatigable? Ymer knows you are not the ruler of this land! Only the true ruler of this land can bid Ymer to leave!”

I curse under my breath. Queen Vivienne is not the true ruler—she is the regent. I did not think that distinction mattered. Apparently, it does, and Ymer’s connection to the land he has been squatting on tells him the truth. Only the young Prince Lionel can bid Ymer to leave.

Ymer makes a lunge toward the queen, but she is already retreating. Her face is a mask of fury, and I can almost see her thinking, “I knew that fae was trying to trick me to get me killed!”

There is no circumstance now where she will trust me enough to bring her only son out here.

The company of men amass around the queen. Ymer roars at her, but does not pursue as they turn and make their quick getaway. I flex my grip on my sword’s hilt. If the rest of the queen’s forces attack Ymer, I will be forced to intervene. No matter how much I’d rather foist the fallout of this on Ash instead of dealing with it myself.

To my great relief, they do not attack. The warriors move in defensive patterns, covering the queen’s route of escape. I wait until they are all gone. His back to me, Ymer plops onto the ground with a force that makes the entire valley shiver.

My shoulders relax. I sheathe my sword and stride toward the Wood for my second task of the day. A stray thought occurs to me: If I am quick, will I be able to return to Kat before she goes to sleep tonight? I shouldn’t get my hopes up, but it does quicken my step.

I expect to spend many hours traveling from Court to Court, but when I reach the Star City, with its great spires that pierce the purple skies, my plans are cut short by news better than I could have hoped for.

“The Valehaven tailor arrived this morning,” the city steward tells me at the entrance to the palace.

“This morning?” I repeat.

“Indeed. He is delivering an order for the Starborn Prince.”

I nod, hardly believing my good fortune. Still, part of me sinks. I won’t be back tonight to see Kat. “In that case, I’ll stay awhile.”