“Are you saying …” Charen shakes his head. “Are you sayingLunarieis the leader of the insurrection?”
Brock nods. “We caught her attempting to call a secret meeting with several as yet ascertained co-conspirators.”
“You mean that mousy little noble with the dragon for a sister?” Tristano guffaws. “You mean the meek sister, the one who wouldn’t say boo to a bograt?”
“That’s the one.”
“What in the name of the Ancestors is going on?” Tristano leans back, his eyebrows high.
I stand. “I don’t know, but it’s high time I find out. You have your orders. I’m headed to the dungeon.”
29
Emma
Daylight. I feel it on my face, caressing me with a warmth that seems soft and satiny.
All my memories flood back. I sit up and dry heave, bending over between my knees and trying to retch out all the horror I’ve ingested ever since Eraldon took me from my mate. But nothing comes up. The poison is still inside me.
I stand and realize I’m back in the consort’s quarters. “Solano?”
Pushing through to the common room, I find it empty. No Lucidia or even Dilrubin shuffling around and ensuring everything is dust-free and shiny.
Foreboding builds in my gut as I hurry into the corridor and dash to Solano’s chambers. The doors are locked.
The only sound is my footsteps on the white stone as I rush down the halls. No one’s here. No guards standing at attention or courtiers whispering in dark alcoves. It’s empty. Where is Solano?
My steps turn into a run, and before I know it, I’m sprinting toward the throne room, the only place left. Solano must be there. Perhaps there’s some big event going on. Am I late for it?
I keep running, my white dress whipping around my legs and flowing out behind me. With a shove, I push open one of the great doors to the throne room and slip inside.
Empty. The entire Shard of Day is abandoned, as if its inhabitants just vanished. Even the light overhead is dimmed, the day cloudy and the shadows deep along the walls. No candles, no light to show me the way.
I stride slowly down the center aisle, my heart hammering as I search for some sign of life.
There is none.
Until something on the shadowy throne moves.
I stop.
“There you are.” Eraldon stands, his cold eyes appraising me. “I’ve been waiting.”
“What?” I spin, and instead of the Shard, I’m back at the Nightkeep, seekers all around me as Eraldon descends from his throne.
“Late to your own mating?” He tsks and takes my hand, pulling me along with him.
“I’m not your mate.” My body obeys him, my feet keeping his pace as I look down with horror. I’m wearing the crimson dress and the diamond jewels, but there is no Solano here, no one to save me this time.
“We’ll see about that.” Eraldon yanks me up to the throne.
Terror prickles through my veins, and I stare up into his malevolent gaze. “Let me go.”
“I told you, my pet.” He grips my chin. “I willneverlet you go.”
He pulls the gilded blade from his sleeve, the same one he’d handed me to use on Solano. “If you aren’t mine, then you will be no one’s. I’ll send you to the Spires to wait for me.”
“Stop.” I try to pull away from him, but his grip is unyielding.
