My stomach turns, outrage mounting.
“I admit it’s not for everyone, but these ones are a rare, winged breed. Sweeter than veal, more flavorful than duck. They say the flavor is strongest in the most innocent.”
26Siren
The Ten of Coins represents legacy, honor, and our ancestral values. Its reverse can foretell family conflicts, especially when a choice arises between the burden of expectations clashing with our own fate.
IF I COULD BREATHE FIRE,this palace would be nothing but ashes and rubble. The rest of dinner passes in a blur of me trying to suppress my rage, unable to focus on conversation.
Thankfully, we move on to the party quickly.
“What’s mine is yours.” King Eldarion leads us to a grand ballroom.
I find the beautiful scene revolting, the elves’ dancing grotesque, the ethereal voices blending into a din in my mind while flutes of elven wine are passed around like poison. Mortals are kept on leashes tightly tethered to their immortal masters.
The king smiles and chats away, Draven’s charming smile hiding his contempt, and his friends have casually filtered through the party. I want to ask someone what they’ve found out, but the only one lingering near us is Scorpius, scowling and shadowing Draven.
I tip back another drink, my hand clenching the flute hard enough to fracture glass.
The crowd swells around us, and Draven pulls me against him, swaying with me in his arms, eyes scanning every corner over my shoulder.
“I need out of here,” I whisper to Draven. I shut my eyes to block the world out.
“Say no more.” His jaw is clenched so tightly his bones flex beneath the skin. His eyes glow scarlet in the shuddering candlelight. Beside him Scorpius overhears, judgment obvious in his eyes. The scream bottled in my chest threatens to erupt.
Draven’s tattoo flashes and I notice a slight light near his hip. His eyes close one moment, and the next his friends are all making their way toward us, summoned by the High Priestess card. Malik sidles up to us, Zara so small in his shadow she could nearly fit under one of his wings, and Fable reappears, tossing her hair over a shoulder. When he notices her, he asks, “Can you give us a bit of time?”
“Make it quick.” Her hand floats over her deck of cards, coaxing the Hanged Man, a golden web expanding so quickly it surprises me, enveloping the room. Within a moment everything in the dancing hall is frozen in place except for us. Elves and enslaved mortals alike stand still as statues, the notes of music and chatter mere reverberations in the air.
“I can give you two minutes,” Fable says, those hazel-green eyes glowing ever so slightly as she holds her card steady, temple beginning to sweat.
“That’s more than enough.” Draven turns to Malik and Fable. “What did you find?”
Malik raises his eyebrows. “Who are these mortals to you anyway? Do they owe you a debt or something?”
“I gathered the list of the Kingbreaker participants,” Fable cuts in, handing Draven a list of names, her temple sweating as she keeps concentrating on her power.
I snatch it from his hand, scanning quickly. There are hundreds, and … I don’t see Remus’s name, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t changed at some point.
“I was able to turn an illusion just now for the king,” Malik adds quickly, jokes set aside at the serious look on Draven’s face. “He thought he was telling an advisor where that enslaved woman he’d mentioned was being kept, reminiscing about his time with her.” Malik smiles brightly and I hang on his words. “She’s in Illithial. I’ve heard rumors of the lord there, both good and bad, but nothing about the condition of his mortals.”
“What’s the importance of this mortal?” Scorpius growls.
“It could be my mother,” I reply shortly.
Draven’s friends share glances.
“The mortals here are put under binding spells to this realm.” Malik spares a sorrowful glance my way. “If she was here, then that means King Eldarion likely was the one who placed it. I don’t foresee him releasing that spell for free.”
A thunderbolt of frustration slices through me. Why can nothing be simple?
“Eldarion’s vices and skeletons seem well-known by his wife, and anyone they could be leveraged against,” Scorpius says with a shrug. “His wife doesn’t appear to have any dirt.”
“But his heir shows some promise in the blackmail department. I’ll need more time to verify the rumors,” Zara jumps in.
“Right. Well then, we just need to find a cost. Everyone has a price.” Draven’s tone is matter-of-fact, gaze red as rubies. He turns to Zara and orders, “Find out anything on his heir for us to barter with.” He tucks the list of names into his jacket pocket,adding one last task for the others. “And find out what year the other participants of the Kingbreaker Trials were Selected. We need to narrow this list.”
The others nod, and Zara hands a rolled parchment to Draven, who pulls it open, looking it over with cunning, cold eyes. “I also made a copy of the map where the zenith is located.”
