Roar took his time prowling closer to the traitors, teeth bared. Let them quiver before the creature that would end their lives.
He closed in, sensing their spiking fear. His heart rate sped up, the predator alive at the prospect of a chase. And though there would be no hunt today, Roar knew how to dull that need.
His claws ripped into flesh. Innards spilled, the tang of metal filled the air—the scent of justice and a warning to any who contemplated betrayal.
Chapter 33
VALE
Istared out the brothel’s window, itching to take to the moonlit streets and storm the castle but forced to remain. To wait as thetaflpieces shifted into place.
Hours had passed since my father and Yrsa burst into the Balik’s breakfast room. Hours we’d spent planning, studying the city of Grindavik, debating who should go on the mission to retrieve my mother. Who should stay behind and be in charge of signaling. Or potentially distracting soldiers that may come after us. A map with circled safe locations around Grindavik hung heavy in my pocket. We each had one. Fates willing we would not have to use them.
Hours in which the guild I’d done my best to suppress these last days had multiplied. I did not know if my claiming of the Riis name had put Mother in danger or if Rhistel had broken free first.
In the end, we’d decided two companies of five would sneak into the castle. The problem lied in the fact that three in our group looked too vampiric, and the rest of us were too well-known throughout the kingdom. Even Yrsa and her sisters, Geiravor and Sváva, three of the least-famous fae going on themission, were very recognizable in their home city. Known as the Terrors of Grindavik, each was red-haired, fiery-winged, and tall and curvy. Caelo’s glamours were the answer to our issue, and though they delayed us further, I had to admit, he’d outdone himself. I didn’t even recognize myself, let alone any of the others.
A light flashed ten rooftops away, and I held up a hand. “Sváva signaled.”
“Vidar did too.” Thyra lingered near a window on the other side of the office.
Shortly after Sayyida and Livia, the final two lookouts, gave their signals. The city guard was on the move, rotating.
Only Lord Riis was staying behind in his brothel office. We simply couldn’t afford to take a male riding such a wave of rage.
Thyra pulled her hood up, covering her newly glamoured violet hair. “See you by the dungeons, North Star.”
“Be safe, South Star,” Isolde replied, her attention grazing over Caelo, Freyia, Thantrel, Geiravor, and landing longest on her twin.
“You too,” Thyra smiled, and one by one the members of South Star left the office.
Our company waited five minutes before entering the streets of Grindavik. Yrsa took up position in front of me and Isolde. Astril and Qildor lagged a dozen paces behind. No one from the other company was anywhere in sight, having already blended into the crowds.
It took no time at all to see that Grindavik thrived on the darkness. Fae of every order walked the streets. So close to the docks, this part of the city smelled of salt and fish. Stallkeeps hawked wares, and the scents of many restaurants filled the air in crevices left by the perfumes worn by fae of the night.
If Avaldenn had a good number of brothels, it was nothing to what Grindavik boasted. No matter how their high lady feltabout such establishments, sailors were known to love a brothel or two. Not only did the sheer number of sex workers surprise me, the varied and extravagant themes of the brothels did as well. Yrsa and Geiravor had warned us that we’d see oddities, and they were right. The fae of the night costumed as wolves, dragons, or vampires were shocking, indeed.
“The vampires in Sangrael would be furious if they saw this,” Isolde whispered as we passed one such brothel where the prostitutes stood outside, dressed in scandalous attire, blood dripping down their faces. “The vampires in the capitol would never wear such things. Not in public anyway.”
My eyes crinkled at the corners, but my heart didn’t fall into the lightness she attempted to create. I couldn’t afford to. Not when we—some of the most wanted fae in Winter’s Realm—were about to infiltrate a castle and extract a fae who was sure to be under heavy guard.
Smooth as the silk the fae of the night wore, we wove through the streets, drawing ever closer to the castle. As the towers grew, the figures walking the wall came into sharper focus. Just when I thought it would be a straight shot down one road, Yrsa banked right. We followed, pivoting into an alley. Our leader paused halfway down.
“We’ll continue that way.” Yrsa gestured to the mouth of the alley. “The other team will have gone left. But before we get too close, I have to let you know, there are many more guards on duty than I’ve ever seen.”
“We predicted that,” I said. “The king would demand a heavy guard. Mother can be very persuasive.”
She could command anyone to do whatever she wished, and if there was the slightest chance, she would free herself. So the king would put as many obstacles as possible in place to stop her from going far.
“Not one or two more,” Yrsa retorted. “Dozens. It feels like a trap.”
It was as though ice swept over us; everyone became so still. Stiff.
Qildor cleared his throat. “King Magnusisfond of playing games.”
Yes, he was. How I had not thought of it before was beyond comprehension. Worry for my mother and those on the mission had blinded me.
“It might be,” I allowed, “but the plan is in motion, South Star is likely closing in at the gates.” They would arrive ahead of us, but had a longer way to travel on the castle grounds. If all worked as planned, we’d converge upon the dungeons at around the same time. “We can’t let them down.”
