Page 132 of Shifter King

And Zorna would have some other trick up her sleeve. That was a given.

She watched the false-Amelia approach, but her gaze moved between false-Amelia and the guests as if assessing their reactions. False-Amelia appeared utterly entranced. Maybe a little too wide-eyed and rather vapid. But it wasn't as if the Bealorns valued her for her intelligence.

He moved with false-Amelia down the aisle until they reached the staircase.

A little tricky. One at a time. Once he reached the top of the second platform, he turned to face the crowd. At least a few hundred people here.

It wasn't that different from the last Bealorn wedding WroOth had intended. Aside from the fact that at this one, he was enjoying fantasizing about how so many of the guests would die.

Zorna rose, striking in her own elaborate wedding attire with layers and layers of delicate lace and embroidery as well as a vivid bodice panel with over twenty colors of beads woven to make spiraling designs around the depicted creatures. "Welcome, honored guests and dignitaries, to our sacred place."

WroOth hid a sigh and stabilized the false form. How long was she going to talk?

She droned on and on about the great honor of this presentment. Then at last, she gestured to the doors to the right. Two cracks of the stone followed, and the servants pulled the doors open.

WroOth's eyebrows lifted.

Naatos, AaQar, and QueQoa strode in.

Except it wasn't exactly them.

First, that was not Naatos. WroOth pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth, his gaze narrowing as both amusement and alarm rose within him. That was clearly AaQar. AaQar always unintentionally made Naatos more grandiose and flamboyant. Just a little. WroOth did it intentionally.

But this was bad. They would need all of them to get out, especially with marble like this.

Naatos probably hadn't escaped the secondary effects of the psychic wine then. So where was he? Bound up? On the way? It didn't really matter for the purposes of the escape plan so long as he didn't show up and make things worse.

QueQoa was doing a good job of appearing to be both himself and carrying false-AaQar’s form. As long as no one expected AaQar and QueQoa to speak simultaneously, he could maintain that multi-form well enough. And as long as no one looked at the legs. That was often the tell. The fact that the false-Amelia’s and his legs were both covered by generous skirts made it easier for him. How had QueQoa managed to get through poisoned-blade stabbing guards without either of the forms faltering? He'd have to ask about that.

Well, this might work.

As long as real-Amelia stayed in that box until they could grab her, they would get through this.

AaQar-Naatos strode toward him, his brow tweaking in such a way that suggested he knew something was off, and his gaze was on WroOth rather than Amelia for a beat too long.

He probably wasn’t making Amelia react authentically enough. So false-Amelia covered her mouth with her hand and tilted her head. Just a little too far to the side. He adjusted. Damn false-woman looked like a marionette. He made her shut her mouth too so she didn’t look quite so...stupid.

This was hard.

AaQar-Naatos gave him a searching look as if to ask where Amelia was?

WroOth twitched his own feminine shoulder. Yes, brother, they’re both gone.

If only he were a mindreader or he had a mindreader with him to help communicate that.

Everyone was watching.

AaQar-Naatos hesitated a half breath, then gestured toward false-Amelia. "My veskaro." He shrugged a little too deeply, then bowed, arms spread too wide and flourishing up. "My apologies for the delay, your Most Glorious Highness. I have—"

Something buzzed and hissed in the center of the room. The large sphere that had been set up as a centerpiece in one of the displays flashed a multitude of colors, cycling faster and faster. The burning scent of tra and ozone filled the air, eliminating the over-rich perfumes and incense.

The lights turned into a blur. Then, with a hiss and crack, it exploded.

A heavy blow rent through the temple. Another strike followed. Light appeared on the far wall as a fountain of sparks shot up from the centerpiece.

Then the marble cracked and crashed inward. A great plume of dust moved with it. Daylight streamed through, highlighting each of the motes in a shimmering light.

Naatos lunged through, then staggered out of the raiku form into his state of rest. "Where is she?" he bellowed. His eyes were bloodshot, and his appearance more disheveled than almost any other time he’d seen him.