“How much do you know?” Lore asked.
“I explained a few things,” Dorion said. “I hope that’s alright.”
Lore and I nodded.
“We don't have long,” I said softly, leaning forward. “Lore's birthday is the day after tomorrow. If we don’t fuse the three talismans before midnight, he’ll die, but we don't know how to do it.”
Dorion's jaw tightened. Laphira sent Lore a look of concern.
I shared all the clues we'd collected, and told them about the vision at the shore. “This was there, and I believe it may play a vital role.” I pulled the feather from my pocket, holding it up.
Dorion's eyes sharpened. “A feather?” He frowned. “My grandmother always said the old magic worked in sets of four. Four elements, four directions, four…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “It’s probably nothing.” His brow drawing together, he sat back against the cushions. “I'll share what I can about the riddle, but why don't you make your wish on the featherdorn pendant first? From what Laphira said, it responds to sincere intent. You hold it, speak your wish aloud, and the magic decides if your heart is true.”
“I’m still…” Laphira’s smile trembled. “I’ve worn that pendant since my father handed it to me on his deathbed. I thought I’d one day give it to my son. To think, all this time, it’s been part of something more ancient. I don’t know what to say other than I hope we can fuse it with the other talismans and save King Lorick.” She shot him a shy smile.
“Lore, please,” he said.
“Very well. Lore.” Her smile widened. “What I’m trying to say is that I know this may mean we’ll no longer control the featherdorn, and that’s perfectly acceptable.”
“Thank you.” Would many willingly give up a court treasure that granted wishes? I doubted her mother would, but I wasn’t going to ask how she’d handle the loss. I didn’t care, frankly, as long as I saved Lore.
Calista arrived with servants hoisting trays carrying enough tea and sweets to feed three times our group, asking the staff to place everything on the low table between us.
As she stepped back, she frowned, her eyes flickering toward the pendant, her expression tightening.
“Is something wrong?” I asked her.
“I…don’t know,” she said slowly. “I just felt a draft.”
I glanced at Lore. Neither of us said what we were thinking. Prager’s reach had always been long.
After giving us a full curtsy, she hurried from the room.
I poured tea but left the snacks for now.
I took a sip, savoring the heat and warmth of the brew, plus the subtle sweet undertones of the herbs. After I placed my cup on the low table in front of us, I drew the pendant out of the soft pouch tied to my belt. As I held it up, it twisted on the chain, its tiny wings fluttering, firelight winking off its wings.
A gust of wind burst through the room, and a whisper brushed the back of my neck.
I looked around, finding no one nearby.
With a grim expression, Lore tripled our wards.
Time was running out, and all I wanted was to throw myself into his arms and forget about talismans and curses. But the pendant gleamed in my hand, reminding me that saving him meant focusing on the task.
“Who gets to stab Prager when she appears?” Dorion asked with a wry twist of his mouth. “Because I think all of us will be pulling blades.”
“She’s mine,” Lore growled.
Unless I reach her first,I said equally grimly.
His smile slick, he nodded my way.I do enjoy your feral side, love.
As long as it’s not directed at you.
Oh, please direct it my way.
With a shake of my head I turned back to the pendant still subtly twisting on the end of the chain.
