Page 50 of Prisoner of Darkness and Dreams (Fated to the Sun and Stars #3)

Leon

“ B ut I don’t understand—what does Harman want with me?” I ask Alastor as he escorts me down to the Hand’s hidden caves at the edge of Tread.

“He’s being annoyingly elusive about it,” Alastor says. “It’s infuriating how he plays everything so close to the chest. It took a solid week of me flirting before I could really tell if he liked me or not.”

I sense Alastor glancing sideways at me, clearly looking to gauge my reaction to his comment.

“And how long ago was that, exactly?” I ask, keeping my voice even.

“Your trip to Hallowbane,” he says, staring straight ahead. “It’s your fault. You’re the one who said I should stick to him and find out everything I could, and you know I have a weakness for mysterious brunettes.”

You and me both , I think to myself, then shake my head.

“All that time I had you watching him, and you could’ve just seduced his secrets out of him. Pretty lazy sleuthing on your part, Alastor.”

Alastor claps his hand to his chest in mock shock. “Is that a joke I hear? So you’re not going to reprimand me for fraternizing with the enemy? ”

“Is that why you didn’t mention this to me before?” I ask. I thought my friend was just being unusually coy, but now I realize he was worried about my reaction.

“Come on, captain,” Alastor gives me a reproachful look. “You and Harm haven’t exactly been friends this whole time. Or do I need to remind you of the black eye you gave him?”

“That was under extenuating circumstances,” I grumble. “And I respect Harman for accepting his part in Ana’s capture. He’s a good leader and…”

“And?” Alastor asks. “There must be a third nice thing you can think to say about him.”

“Don’t push it,” I growl. “But alright…I suppose I can see why you like him.”

It feels like pulling teeth, admitting it, but the smile on Alastor’s face is worth it.

I won’t give him any lectures about being careful with his heart or ask him to think about where this could possibly go.

I didn’t listen when people tried to say the same about Ana and me, and now we’re bound for life, and I could not care less what everyone’s concerns might be about our future.

I don’t need to know what the future holds, not now I’m certain Ana is in it.

Harman is accepting a pile of papers from a rebel messenger when we enter the cave, and he beckons us over.

“What’s all this?” Alastor asks, making no attempt to hide his curiosity.

“Reports from our network,” Harman explains.

“Exactly how many spies do you have ?” I say, gesturing at the impressive pile.

“That would be telling,” Harman says with a smile. “But we have people sympathetic to the cause from all walks of life, in all sorts of places.”

“See what I mean?” Alastor says to me. “Aggravatingly vague.”

Harman only laughs and pushes the papers to one side, gesturing for us to sit down .

“I brought you here because there’s something I want to ask you, Leonidas.” He mostly stopped calling me Your Highness after I punched him. I prefer it this way anyway.

“Alright,” I say.

“You see, ever since you first came to Tread, I’ve been thinking about the murder of your parents.”

Now this, I wasn’t expecting.

“I know it’s been quite a barrier for you,” he continues, “making it difficult to trust the Hand. By now, I hope you no longer believe that anyone currently in leadership had any part to play in their deaths.”

“If I did still believe that, you’d know about it,” I say, not altogether nicely. Alastor gives me a reproving look, but I ignore it. I feel blindsided and wonder where Harman’s going with this.

“I was defensive about your accusations back then. But the more I thought about it,” Harman continues, “the more I thought the story about the Hand’s involvement is a total smokescreen.

We were scapegoats, and my mentor was killed for it.

A great injustice has been done to both of us.

I wasn’t the Hand’s leader back then, and the backlash against us caused too much upheaval at the time for us to learn what really happened.

But I want to find out the truth. I decided, before Bastion in fact, that I wanted to discover who killed your parents. ”

Harman’s eyes dart to Alastor, who also looks surprised.

For just a moment, I ungenerously think Harman’s only doing this because of Alastor.

Perhaps it’s some kind of odd attempt to win over the best friend.

Then I remember I’ve been coupled with Harman’s sister for much longer than that, and he’s never demanded I get his approval.

Maybe the rebel leader does just want answers.

“Why bring this up now?” I ask.

“I may have had the idea early, but my focus was on the Bastion mission first, and then Morgana was captured and the situation between us…” He meets my gaze, and I know we’re both thinking about my rage after the Temple took Ana.

“Well, it didn’t seem like the time to bring it up.

Then with the coronation, we’ve been on a deadline.

It was only when you left fo r Agathyre and the other mission for Elmere that I had a moment to really sit down and consider how we’d start. ”

“Alright, and where is that?” I ask.

“I have certain resources I can draw upon—contacts in the area where your parents were killed who might be able to find out more details than those given to the Filusians. Naturally, I’ll let you know the moment we turn up anything, but I wanted to get your permission first, before I went ahead.”

“And you have it,” I say without hesitation.

I might have believed the rebels were responsible for their murders, but for fifteen years, I’ve wanted to know exactly who killed them—who cast the spell or lifted the blade.

Yet everyone always just told me to make peace with the official story: that faceless rebels did it, and Trova punished their group accordingly.

Now this man who owes me nothing has chosen to care about it, more than my own flesh and blood ever did.

I feel an unexpected surge of warmth for the Hand’s leader.

“Then I’ll start making inquiries right away,” Harman says. “Discreetly, of course.”

“Thank you,” I say, and Alastor gives me a pleased look when he hears the sincerity in my voice.

“It’s my pleasure, Leonidas,” Harman says. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I should probably start wading through these.” He gestures to the pile of reports and gives us a wry smile. “A rebel’s work is never done.”

Harman picks up the first piece of folded parchment and opens it as we stand to go. We’re only a few feet away when his voice stops us.

“Wait,” Harman calls. We both turn around, and Harman’s easy expression is gone, replaced by troubling solemnity. He holds up the letter in his hand.

“Get Ana and the others. They need to hear this.”

MORGANA

I stare at the signature on the letter, imagining I can smell the salty air of Gullert wafting from the parchment.

“Does Will say if he knew them personally?” I ask, scanning though the tightly packed rows of handwriting. My old friend writes in something of a scrawl, and I’m out of practice at deciphering it.

Harman shakes his head. “Will just says that he was the son of a local fisherman. They kept him out on the boats most of the time. That’s how he evaded detection for so long.”

“But now Caledon’s campaign of terror has reached Gullert,” I say, throwing the letter down in disgust.

“May I ask what this means?” Corrin says, watching us all with a casual curiosity. He’s new to this fight, but he hasn’t protested being included in it since he returned from Elmere. I have a few guesses as to why that might be, and one of them has green eyes and wicked aim.

“Caledon found another solari child,” I say. “And according to Will, he’s being escorted to Qimorna as we speak. With the clerics getting the potion ingredients and all these raids…”

“You think he’s cracked it,” Alastor says. “He’s got the recipe for your potion, and he’s going to make that child more powerful with it. But won’t that take years?”

“I don’t see Caledon being so patient,” Leon says darkly.

“Is it possible?” I turn to Mal, the only one among us who knows anything about viatic magic. “Could he somehow make the side effects happen faster? Strengthen the boy’s magic with more concentrated doses to speed up the process?”

“It would need to be very potent,” Mal says.

“I know that much. Etusca’s version of it was so ingenious because it suppressed your magic without impacting your health overall.

Anything stronger…” He frowns. “It would almost certainly cause serious damage. I don’t believe the person would die instantly, but I can’t imagine them living for longer than a few days while their body shuts down. ”

I sit back, my heart heavy with dread. “Then that’s the loophole he’s found,” I say. “It doesn’t matter to Caledon if the potion kills the boy as long as the child lives long enough with the boosted power for Caledon to absorb it for himself.”

“Then we have to keep the boy out of his hands,” Damia says, looking to Harman. “Didn’t you say we just needed to disrupt one piece of Caledon’s plan, and it would all come tumbling down?”

“Well, rescuing this boy would certainly delay them,” Harman says grimly. “At least until he can find another solari child.”

I shudder, offering up a silent prayer for the boy, wherever he is.

“Gullert’s a long way from Qimorna, right?” Stratton says, as if he read my mind. “Could we still catch up with them?”

Harman taps the date on the letter. “They already passed Tread a long time ago. In fact, I suspect we’ve missed our chance to head them off before they enter Godom. They’re likely only half a week away from Qimorna by now.

“But they’re using a coach and horses, which means they’ll have to stop and rest,” Leon says, turning to Corrin. “What about your smuggler friends, Ravesley and his crew? Could they help us again and get us to Godom on their boat?”

“For the right price, they’ll do anything,” Corrin says with a shrug.

“And I happen to know they like doing business near Kestis this time of year. But traveling by boat isn’t that much faster.

Even with all Winnivus’s gales behind you, it’ll be damn close.

We could get there only to find they’ve just entered Qimorna a few hours before. ”

“Maybe, but I’m not letting Caledon kill another solari on my watch,” I say. “And I’m certainly not letting him get any closer to becoming immortal.”

I picture a sea of ivory buildings under a baking sun, a dark cell and a staring corpse. I close my eyes and remember that white, marble room and the hard surface of the bloody altar.

If I’m to be worthy of my powers, I have to keep facing my fears.

I look around at my friends and take a deep breath. “If we get to Godom and find out they’ve already reached Qimorna, then we’ll just have to follow them there.”