“We have the blood we need,” Adriel continued, jerking his head toward the ceiling. “What we don’t know is how or evenifwe’ll be able to restore the Death Bringer’s hands.”
“What’s your plan?” I asked, taking the bowl Sorsha offered me and sinking into the seat beside her. The porridge had a rich, nutty flavor and chunks of what might have been baked apples mixed in, but I had little appetite.
“There’s an old Drathen fae who lives in Körkis — about half a day’s journey from here. If anyone would know how to restore Morta’s hands, it would be him.”
“And you want us to go there,” I surmised, looking from one to the other. “Find this fae.”
Adriel inclined his head.
“What makes you think he’ll want to help the half-demon prince who brought about the Ravaging?” I demanded. “The Scolendra faerie certainly didn’t.”
Adriel grimaced. He knew I was right. While Kaden considered the Drathen fae his people, I wasn’t sure they felt the same.
“I am not suggesting that Kaden be the one to go,” he said slowly, his hazel gaze shifting to Sorsha. “Some of the fae may not be receptive to their future king, even the Drathen. Their banishedprincess, however . . .”
Sorsha’s eyes narrowed to slits. “What happened to you and my brother trying so hard to keep me hidden away?” she snapped. “Or ‘we don’t want to start a war with Alfrigg’?”
The royal guard shrugged. “That was when Semphrys believed that Kaden was still his loyal dog. Now that he knows his heir has been working against him and that Lyra is half witch —” He nodded to me. “— he’ll stop at nothing to kill her before she can kill him. If Semphrys manages to sabotage our plan, a war with Alfrigg will be the least of our problems.”
I shivered.
“You and Lyra should go to the village,” he said. “I’ll stay here and keep an eye on His Royal Moodiness.”
I shot Adriel a nasty look.
It went against my every instinct to leave Kaden behind, but I didn’t know how I could help him if he didn’t even want to be near me.
Finding this old faerie was something I could do — something that would hopefully bring us one step closer to restoring the Death Bringer’s hands and severing the ties to all those souls bound to Semphrys’s existence.
“Fine,” I said, forcing myself to take another bite of porridge.
“Fine?” Adriel stared at me as though I’d just grown two heads. Clearly, he’d expected me to put up more of a fight.
“Sorsha and I will go to the village and find this fae. When we return . . .” I swallowed.
When we returned, we would have no choice but to move on, regardless of Kaden’s condition.
“Well,” said Sorsha, looking just as surprised. “When do we leave?”
Despite her best efforts,Sorsha could not summon her wings to fly us to Körkis. It seemed her magic was as fickle as mine. So we each packed a bag of provisions, donned the least ill-fitting pair of boots we could find in the safe house, and set out for the village on foot.
It was a damp, drizzly morning, and the cold rain soaked through the wool coat I wore within a matter of hours. We talked little as we climbed, only communicating the few times one of us stopped to readjust our pack or take a drink of water.
Though the princess was normally talkative and upbeat, the aftermath of what Kaden had undergone in Dorthus hung over us like a cloud. Neither of us wished to discuss it, but it was hard to think about anything else.
At one point, Sorsha stopped under the shelter of a jagged rock outcropping and began peeling off her sodden coat. A ripple of power nudged at my skin, and I realized she was trying to dry it with magic.
The movement caused the neckline of her tunic to dip, and my gaze snagged on a line of tiny, bruised puncture marks marring her flawless skin.
“What the —”
Sorsha followed my gaze to the spot just below hercollarbones and tugged her soggy tunic back into place. “It’s nothing,” she said, readjusting the neckline.
“It’s not nothing,” I protested, snatching her arm.
The princess didn’t move as I shoved the fabric aside to examine the purplish marks. The tiny circles imprinted in her skin would have been impossible to identify if it weren’t for the half-moon shape they formed.
“That’s a vikkarni bite,” I said in a low voice, terror lodging in my throat.
