Page 29 of Disillusioned (A Lay of Ruinous Reign #2)

Lilac slumped against the seat, crossing her arms and bouncing her foot until her gaze fell upon Lorietta’s bread basket beneath Garin’s bench.

Suddenly remembering her hunger, she dove for it, and Garin started back with a grunt, as if witnessing her bending to reach between his legs had caught him off guard.

She greedily pulled the basket onto her lap and found a bread end.

A small sound of satisfaction escaped the back of her throat; they were still very warm. The basket was enchanted.

He watched as she dipped the tip of the knife into the small bowl of butter and brought it to the bread.

It was as if he’d never seen a girl butter bread.

Maybe it was the wedding dress she still wore.

She was wrong—this was the best glamor she could have hoped for.

Serves the asshole right , she thought, silently thanking Adelaide’s tonic.

She looked up through her lashes, meeting his gaze and smirking.

It might as well be his first and last time seeing her in one.

His eyes narrowed. “Just what do you think you’re doing?”

“Eating.” She frowned under his glare. “I’m starving.”

“Why are you breaking your glamor before we find the market?”

She waved the blunt knife in his direction. “Who knows how long it will be until we find it? Besides, you’ve eaten,” she said, looking pointedly at his pocket.

Garin leaned in. “I don’t believe being in a confined space with a hungry vampire is something you want to experience.”

“I've done it before.” She paused, the loaf halfway to her mouth. “Maybe I enjoy it.”

“And how do you expect to proceed once you’re recognizable again?”

“Just as I’d planned before. Pure luck and delusion. ”

He leaned back in his seat and scoffed under his breath. “ Unbelievable. ”

“What do you care if I’m seen?”

“We’re conducting a heist of a foreign market—an arcane market. You cannot be seen.” His hand darted out as she brought it to her mouth once more.

Lilac stared at his fingers wrapped around her wrist. She imagined them sliding down her arm, down her body. It had been hours, yet she missed the way his hands felt.

What would it be like to hold them, be held, without fear of scrutiny or retaliation?

“What do you plan to gain by revealing yourself to the Midraal Market, Lilac? To anyone else we might encounter before you’re safe at home?”

“What makes you think my home is safe for me?”

His nostrils flared. The way he looked at her was torturous.

“They might sell their goods to us at a lesser price.” They both shot a look at Adelaide, who peered back at them through the partition.

“What? She’s the queen. The Guài are perfectly political creatures, commonly holding positions of power and wisdom in the eastern empires.

Even in the mortal world, they are respected as much as they are feared.

They are likely diplomatic enough to understand the importance of trade with royalty. Maybe we’ll be lucky.”

Lilac tugged her piece of bread away, and he only gripped her tighter. “I’m tired of being kept hidden, Garin.”

“As long as you’re alive, you’re a target. Even without your arcana lingua, this would be true. What’s a little pretending if it protects you?”

“When do I get to be myself? Appear as myself?” She gripped his hand with her other and slipped her fingers under his, almost annoyed he let her win so easily. “I was just in a tavern, in the nearest town to my own castle, with a bit of rogue on my cheeks and my hair up, yet no one noticed me.”

He laughed darkly, infuriating her. “It is certainly more than a bit of rogue.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I would not have noticed you, if it weren’t for your infuriating scent. And it is a good thing no one did. You saw what that tavern was like.”

“I did.” Lilac shoved his hand off, furious with his ability to insult her with his logic. “They don’t respect me, or my family. When does it end? ”

“You’re the queen. It doesn’t.”

She searched his face, and he gazed back at her, completely unremorseful. Garin opened his mouth to say something else cutting, but the carriage abruptly began to slow, causing Emrys to fall into Garin’s lap. The horses began to whinny and stomp.

Garin attempted to right the warlock, his head swiveling.

“Why have we stopped?” he called to the front.

Adelaide only hushed them, her hand on Giles’s mumbling mouth.

The forest had grown silent. No bird, no rustle of wind in the eaves could be heard. She expected to hear the bluejays, Kestrel’s most trusted scouts singing in the canopy, but she did not. All was still.

Garin yanked the curtain back to reveal an overcast sky quickly becoming obscured by a thick mist that began protruding from the trees.

The glowing insect was nowhere in sight, but it seemed they’d emerged onto the path that ran south of Paimpont and the estate.

The bug had just started to pivot them into a wide right turn.

There was a loud whistle, then the sharp cracking of wood.

A searing pain—an actual heat—scorched Lilac’s knuckles, and she shrieked as the piece of bread was knocked from her hand and stuck in the plank to her right.

She blinked, pressing her back against the seat.

The blueberry rye had been skewered upon the shaft of a glowing red arrow.

A hole, rough and singed in its edges, smoked on the wall to her left.

Warmth spread down her knuckles—a throbbing pain—and she pressed her hand into her dress as the pounding of heavy hooves neared.

She startled when a tingling sensation rippled from the crown of her head, down her face and neck.

The sensation was not slow crawling, like when her glamor had first materialized. This was quick, and jarring.

The beautiful dress she wore smoldered away in a violet border of flames that quickly engulfed her body, revealing her kirtle beneath.

“We found him!” came a female’s echoing voice from behind, muffled through the carriage walls—along with the clomping of several heavy hooved.

“Is the tracking spell still active?” Garin was also flat against the wall, eyeing her in alarm.

“No,” Adelaide shouted, frantically searching for something within her robes, then within her bag .

“Then onward, Giles!”

“Yes, sir. Which way?”

“Away from the arrows!” he roared as Lilac shrank away from the one stuck inches from her face.

“Back west it is.” The carriage sprang forward at Giles’s command, and without needing to change directions, he quickly got them up to what felt like a dangerous speed. “But what about the market?” Giles shouted.

“We won’t be able to find it if we’re dead.” Adelaide held on for dear life, looking like she was on the verge of trying to climb through the tiny partition. “Did none of you bring weapons? Really?”

Garin snarled in frustration. “None that are long range. What about your vials?”

“What do you think I could have picked up when I asked the carriage to stop at my house?”

Lilac was already elbow-deep in the bag Lorietta had provided.

She pulled out the first hard thing she felt: a round, narrow-necked bottle that fit in the palm of her hand.

It felt heavy, like there was liquid inside, except none had spilled out even in the jostling of the carriage.

A piece of cloth hung out of its open mouth.

“What do we have here?” A wrinkled hand shot out. Emrys took it from her, fully awake now and leaning forward from Garin’s lap. “A light-and-toss.”

“A what?” they said in unison.

“A light-and-toss,” he said matter-of-factly.

“And what do we do, Emrys, with this light-and-toss?” Garin asked.

“I’m… not sure. I was never allowed to have one at the Academy.

As far as I know, you light it.” The warlock held his index finger and thumb and pinched the corner of the cloth.

It burst into a slow crawling flame that climbed the material.

He handed it back to her. “And toss.” Pleased with himself, Emrys peeked out the window at their attacker and dropped the curtain again, his face suddenly pale, eyes bulging.

“I’d do it quickly if I were you,” Adelaide snapped, climbing onto her seat to get a better view.

“Height helps with dis—” Her eyes widened as Lilac ducked under the arrow shaft, holding the smoking bottle and cloth away from her body.

“Why did you light it?” she screeched, her black hair whipping around her head .

“It was Emrys!”

Whatever it was that didn’t register for anyone else clicked for Emrys almost immediately.

He opened the door to their right and gripped Lilac firmly by the waist before hoisting her right out of her seat.

Garin seemed so taken aback by the movement, he didn’t stop the warlock in time, and when he did move, she was already halfway out of the carriage.

Her stomach lurched, and she shrieked, cussing at the warlock as her hair whipped around her face. She held the flaming cloth as far from herself as possible and clung to the top of the door with her other arm. The flame had already burned a third of the way up the material.

“Let her go!” Garin shouted, and Lilac gasped as Emrys’s hold loosened for a moment, then gripped her tightly as he adjusted her so she was seated on his shoulder. Emrys was surprisingly strong for his age.

She could hardly see anything through her hair, but could feel Garin jostling him below, trying to pull them back in without toppling Lilac. “Stop it, you two,” she screamed, scrambling for purchase and steadying herself on the roof. “I’m going to fall!”

“You have one chance,” Emrys bellowed from below. “Don’t miss!”

With a final shake of her head, her eyes were clear—and she almost wished they were covered again.

Charging toward them through the mist was a stunning black and red carriage pulled by a single animal.

The magnificent broad creature, long and off-white in coat, with two thick horns, was nearly the size of the cart itself, wide as two horses side by side.

A woman with two long black braids stood in the driver’s box, steering the animal toward them, while another followed beside it on horseback, wielding a thick bow and arrow.

Her heart dropped. A retractable awning jostled along the left side of their cart, various charms and symbols swinging wildly in the wind.

“What does the market look like?” she yelled.

From behind her, Adelaide’s panicked shriek pierced the howling wind. “It’s the market, don’t throw it!”

The flame was nearly at the bottle; there wasn’t any time to deliberate.

“Lilac,” Garin commanded. “Throw! Throw it or we’ll get blown to bits!”

She arched her arm back, but another arrow whistled through the air, this time hooking the bottle in the opening.

It flew out of her hand, which got soaked in the bottle’s contents and erupted briefly into flame.

She shrieked, but it was lost to the wind as a burst of light and air exploded ahead of the carriage.

Another shout from an unfamiliar male voice, screams from Adelaide and Giles, and a chilling unison of horse neighs were almost simultaneous with a deafening crash.

Then, Lilac was airborne.