Page 66

14

A nxiety tickled Cora’s chest the deeper she went into the pitch-black crevasse, but soon a calming presence cut through every dark emotion.

I’m here , Valorre said from the other side of the wall.

Emboldened, Cora rushed the rest of the way out of the opening and found her friend standing on the other side. The moonlight glinted upon the slender horn at the center of his head and sent his white coat gleaming. Her heart swelled in her chest as a sudden wave of emotion constricted her throat. This was the first time she’d laid eyes on Valorre since the battle.

She was so relieved, so overjoyed at seeing him that she ran to him at once. He startled only a little as she threw her arms around his thick neck and buried her face into his hide. It wasn’t something she’d done before. Valorre wasn’t a pet, after all, but a fae creature. A person. And his temperament wasn’t always cuddly. But Cora couldn’t find it in her to care. Not with his soft coat pressed against her cheek, the aromas of dirt, leaves, and soil surrounding her, wrapping her in a blanket that felt so much more like home than a dusty castle did.

Yes, I am quite soft, aren’t I? Valorre said, bumping her shoulder with his muzzle. You will find the base of my ears are soft too. Perhaps you can scratch them?

With a chuckle, she stepped back and gave in to his request. “I missed you, Valorre. I…I think you’re my best friend.”

Ah. That’s nice. Teryn is my best friend.

She halted her scratching, mouth falling open as her euphoric joy turned to indignation. “Teryn? Why the Mother Goddess is he your best friend? You hardly know him.”

He rippled with something like laughter. I think it’s called humor .

She blinked at him a few times, at the twinkle in his russet eyes, and arched a brow. “You were teasing me.”

It was fun .

“Then I am your best friend, right?”

Yes, I suppose you are .

She rolled her eyes at his begrudging tone. “So, you’ve been so bored without me that you learned humor in my absence. How does that work? Aren’t fae creatures unable to lie?”

That sounds false to me.

“Well, it was a very rude joke. Teryn, of all people.” Her heart stuttered. Even saying the prince’s name brought to mind their last encounter. The anger she’d expressed to him. Her humiliation over having been promised to his brother at his behest. The note he’d sent that she’d thrown in the fire. The meeting he’d requested that she never attended. What was it he’d wanted to tell her?

You miss him too. Like you missed me.

She forced her thoughts away and scoffed. “Why would I miss him?”

Well, your heart gets quite loud and thuddy whenever you or I mention him. And I know you often think about that time when he put his mouth on your mouth ? —

“How do you know about that?”

Ah, yes, and then you get angry and admiring the same way you did whenever you saw him without a shirt ? —

“Let’s stop talking about Teryn.”

Valorre obeyed her request for all of five seconds. But you do miss him, don’t you?

“No. I…why does it matter?”

You’re my friend. He’s my friend .

Cora waited for him to continue, but it seemed his explanation ended at that.

I’ll make a bargain. Admit you miss him, and I’ll let you ride on my back. He lifted his head, radiating pride if not a little arrogance.

Cora hadn’t intended for a midnight ride when she’d planned on sneaking out of the castle. All she’d wanted was to greet her friend, surround herself with trees, and drink in moonlight. That and find a quiet place to perform an energy clearing ritual on the crystal, of course. She’d made a habit of shoving her hand in her pocket to remind herself of its existence. It continued to unsettle her how easy it was to forget.

Still, it wasn’t absolutely dire that she perform the ritual right away. She could ride first. In fact, it might help her find the perfect place to proceed with her chore. The thought of speeding through the trees on Valorre’s back, neither racing for their lives nor traveling with any destination in mind, was too good to resist.

However, something told Cora the unicorn wasn’t going to compromise on his terms.

“Fine, Valorre,” she muttered through her teeth, “I miss Teryn.” She’d meant for her words to be meaningless, a way to get Valorre off the subject, but as soon as she said it, a thrum of truth warmed her chest, steadying her. Memories melted over her, of her and Teryn rescuing the baby unicorn. Of the two of them standing close while she used her magic to hide them under the tree. Of his lips on hers before she escaped the dungeon. Of the split second when she thought Queen Bethaeny was proposing a marriage alliance between Cora and Teryn.

I thought she meant you…

“I miss him, all right?” she said, voice firm and devoid of the emotions still playing inside her. “Are you satisfied now?”

Quite. Now climb up and I will remind you why I am so much stronger and better than the brainless creature you traveled here upon.

A wry grin curled a corner of her mouth. He really was a prideful creature. But if it garnered her a stolen moment of unbridled freedom, she’d play into that arrogance.

Valorre ducked his head, allowing her to gather his mane in her hands. No sooner than she was properly seated did he take off into the night. Shadows streamed past as the thud of the unicorn’s hooves filled her ears, resounding against the beat of her heart, the exhilarating rush of her blood. Moonlight speckled the forest floor, and Cora let herself pretend—for a short time at least—that this was all that mattered.

Cora was fully ready for sleep by the time Valorre returned her to the castle wall. The ride had been exactly what she’d needed, and now she felt rejuvenated in a way that left her equally exhausted. Only when she was halfway back to the castle, hand tucked in her pocket, did she realize she’d never performed the clearing ritual. She’d forgotten about the crystal again.

She halted, glancing back at the wall. Her bones begged for sleep, and she had to admit her weary state would likely hinder any ritual she’d perform. Starting back toward the castle, she told herself she’d have to try again the next day. A day that was soon approaching dawn, now that she considered how long she’d been out. If she didn’t get some sleep soon, she’d be miserable come morning.

And yet…

A strange feeling settled over her. Not for the first time she wondered whether the crystal was enchanted, making it slip from her mind far too easily. Just the thought of being touched by leftover strains of Morkai’s magic made a shudder run through her. Her eyes flicked up to the North Tower Library, barely visible behind the other turrets and crenellations?—

She froze, her heart leaping into her throat. Subtle illumination flickered beyond the library window, soft like candlelight. It was so faint, she tried to convince herself she was imagining it. But the longer she looked, the more certain she was. Someone was inside Morkai’s tower.

It’s probably nothing , Cora tried to tell herself as she made her way through the lower levels of the castle, past the kitchen and the staircase that led to the keep. But the hair bristling at the back of her neck, the hollow pit in her stomach, told her it wasn’t nothing. This feeling wasn’t just a tinge of unfounded fear. It was a clairsentient warning.

She hoped she was wrong. She hoped there was a reasonable explanation for why someone would be in the library—the very room Lurel had claimed was forbidden to castle staff—well after midnight. And someone had to be in there. Why else would there be a candle burning in a forbidden room at this hour?

Nausea turned her stomach as she reached the dark stairwell that led to the tower. She placed one foot on the bottom step but found her body unwilling to move. Breathing deep, she called upon the elements to steady her—air to fill her lungs, earth to anchor her feet, water to calm her emotions, and fire to fuel her resolve. It smoothed the edges of her growing fear, but pain pulsed at her temples, pounding with the effort it took to ward off darker memories…

Of her and Morkai, sitting in the room at the top of these very stairs…

The hulking shape of the Roizan curled on the floor…

The duke confessing secrets she still didn’t understand…

His claim as an Elvyn prince.

The reasons behind his war.

A prophecy.

The unicorns. The mother. The child. Who do you think you are in that prophecy?

His offer to give her half his heart.

His threat to bind her fate to his in a blood weaving?—

Cora closed her eyes and flung out a hand, pressing it to the cool stone of the stairwell. Her palm thrummed with the steadying energy of the stone. She felt it move through her hand, her arm, warming the inked designs of her tattoos until she managed to catch her breath.

He’s gone , she told herself. It’s over. There’s nothing to fear from him any longer .

Swallowing hard, she forced herself to take the next step. Then the next. Soon the library door came into view. It was left partially open, and the same flickering light she’d glimpsed outside shone from beyond the door. Daring to open a hole in her mental shields, she extended her senses, seeking whoever might be inside. She connected with a familiar energy, someone she knew?—

The door flung all the way open, and Lurel’s silhouette shone against the candlelight behind her.

Cora sagged with relief. She wasn’t sure what—or whom—she’d expected to find, but now that she saw her lady’s maid, all her fears seemed embarrassingly irrational. I’m a witch, damn it. I’m supposed to be stronger than fear. Perhaps suppressing her magic, betraying her true nature, had made her soft.

Her internal chiding turned to concern as Lurel came rushing down the stairs, her shoulders trembling with silent sobs. Her moves were so erratic, so panicked, Cora feared the girl would tumble down the stairs.

“Lurel,” Cora said softly, so as not to frighten her.

The girl let out a startled squeak, but as soon as she saw Cora—or whatever she could see of her in the dark stairwell—she heaved an audible whimper and rushed the rest of the way to her.

Lurel threw her arms around Cora in a relieved embrace.

Cora was stunned at the sudden hug, and for a few moments, she didn’t know what to do. Then her softer instincts took over, ones she admittedly wasn’t too well-practiced at, and she returned the embrace with a few consoling pats on the other girl’s back. She kept her tone gentle as she asked, “Lurel, what are you doing here?”

“You were gone when I awoke,” she said, heaving a sob. “You didn’t come back and I…I couldn’t sleep. I was worried about you so I went looking to see where you might have gone. Then…then I kept thinking about the tower. I was scared.”

Cora placed her hands on Lurel’s shoulders and gently put space between them. Lurel reluctantly released Cora. The faint candlelight still streaming from inside the room at the top of the stairs cast half of her maid’s face in shadow, but it was enough to show the streams of tears running down her cheeks. “So you came to the very place you thought was haunted?”

“You said it wasn’t, so I wanted to prove to myself it was nothing! Besides, what if it was haunted? What if you’d been taken in your sleep by the ghost? But then…I saw…I saw all those things…” She gestured toward the open door, eyes wide, and shuddered.

Cora nearly did the same at the haunted look in Lurel’s eyes, but she forced herself to keep her composure.

Lurel wrenched her gaze from the room and returned her attention to Cora. Her face twisted as her sobs renewed. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have gone in there. Please forgive me.”

A pinch of sorrow struck Cora’s chest. She wasn’t sure if it was her own emotion or Lurel’s, but it softened her feelings for the girl. Lurel may be irritating at times, but she was sweet. Kind. Determined to be liked. And the poor thing was trembling with fear. Cora forced her lips into a reassuring smile. “It’s all right, Lurel, you’re not in trouble.”

Lurel shook her head. “Something happened. I pricked my finger on a book when I tried to open it…and…” The girl wobbled on her feet, and one slipped off the edge of the stair. Cora caught her, but Lurel grew heavy in her arms, sinking down until she planted her bottom on the step.

Even sitting seemed too hard for Lurel. Her head hung low and she slumped against Cora. “I don’t feel well, Highness,” she said, voice weaker now.

Dread filled every inch of Cora’s body. She shifted to the side and propped Lurel’s shoulder against the wall of the stairwell. “Stay here. I’ll get help?—”

Lurel’s eyes shot to Cora’s. “Don’t leave me.”

Terror froze Cora in place. The candlelight from above still cast most of Lurel’s face in shadow, but the portion it illuminated revealed her tears had grown tenfold.

No. Not tears.

Blood.

Rivulets of dark crimson turned black by the shadows of the stairwell trickled from the girl’s eyes, her nose, the corners of her lips.

Lurel whimpered, then hung her head once more.

Cora couldn’t cry, couldn’t scream, couldn’t move, could do nothing as she felt the emotion, the energy, and the life leave Lurel’s body.