Lidiane rolls her eyes and raises a hand, pointing at Azur, and a hat appears in his head, identical to the one I saw him wearing before. He looks up and smiles. It’s a fraction of a second, but it’s there—a joyful expression that looks completely out of place on his face.
Marlak pokes me gently on the ribs. “Astra, love,” he whispers. “If I ever wear something ridiculous, I hope you’ll tell me, not encourage me.”
The time is wrong for jokes and I don’t even think Azur’s hat is that ridiculous, and yet I scoff as we sit at one of the tables. Ziven approaches us with two bowls of fruit, while Renel stands by the counter, looking as if he’d rather be anywhere else. Perhaps he would. I’m not even sure what made Marlak bring him here.
There’s too much that I don’t know, and even if my head is spinning and my stomach turning, I need to understand where we stand, need to know how to move from here.
Marlak gestures to Lidiane, Ferer, and Renel. “Come closer.”
Renel brings a jug of juice and some cups, and Ferer a plate with bread, and they sit across from us. Marlak turns to Azur. “You too.”
He sits at the table beside ours. “Can’t be too careful.”
“Fair,” Marlak mutters.
And itisfair, and a good idea for Azur not to get too close to anyone.
Everyone stares at each other, worry and expectation and fear all mingled on their faces. I have dozens of questions, but also dozens of secrets that I don’t want to keep burying and hiding, so I decide to start.
“The Witch King is back.” I thought my voice would come out solemn, grave, and yet I guess I’m so shaken that the only tone I can muster is matter-of-fact.
They all look at me, eyes perhaps wider than before, but I wonder what they’ve been through, as none of them has any air of disbelief, almost as if they half expected it.
“I beheaded him.” The words sound so odd coming out of my mouth. “With Downshadow. But Azur says beheading doesn’t work.”
Lidiane and Renel nod as if it was an obvious fact, while the others don’t seem surprised or shocked.
I was secretly hoping someone would tell me that Azur is completely deranged and his opinion is bonkers, but no. They don’t even blink.
Since when beheading doesn’t kill a person? Even a powerful, ancient fae?
I proceed to tell them about the journey I took to the Shadow Lands with Ferer and Nelsin and how the giants took Nelsin, asking me to stop something in the Shadow Lands. A dash of pain crosses Ferer’s eyes, and I realize that he must be agonizing with worry for his partner. I try to trust that the giants won’t hurt Nelsin, but what are they going to do if we don’t keep our part of the deal? Still, I don’t mention any of that and continue my account, telling everyone about my encounter with the ghouls.
“They obeyed you?” Lidiane sounds incredulous.
“Yes, at the time. Perhaps because the Witch King wasn’t awake yet.”
Something inside me squirms at the thought of telling them about the Heart of Magic, but I’m certain the Witch King will learn about it soon, so there’s no need to keep it a secret. I take a deep breath, then recount how the ghouls led me to the Amethyst Palace, and how there, with the sundering dagger, I cut all magic bonds—or most of them, at least.
Marlak holds my hand then squeezes it. “You fear the Witch King will get ahold of that heart and then control all magic in the land.”
The words make my breath still and my skin chill, the buried dread surfacing as I hear my fear spelled out in such a horrifying possibility.
I make an effort to breathe, to think, and say, “Well, the ghouls led me to it, and now they obey him… Unless he stays in his magical prison, but I don’t know how long it will hold him.”
Noweveryone’s faces are grim, except for Renel, who’s thoughtful.
“Not necessarily,” he says. “He didn’t find this… heart… last time, so it means it was well hidden.”
“Then how did the ghouls know its location? Lead me to it?”
Renel scratches his chin. “Ghouls have no volition. They’re controlled by magic.”
“What kind of magic would letmefind the heart and not the Witch King?”
“Something about your Tiurian heritage, perhaps?”
A wave of panic takes hold of my chest as I consider what I’m about to confess. “Actually… I’m not sure it’s my Tiurian blood.” I touch my purple strands. “What does this hair color mean to you?”
