The space between my ribs grew tight. My plan to abduct, or assassinate, the Crimson Wolf suddenly felt fragile. Hairline fractures threatened my confidence. I had to focus on my plan: Track Korin. Locate the rebels’ base. Destroy the Crimson Wolf. I would authenticate my loyalty. And ascend to a dreki.
But what if I was wrong? Delah has never been brash with her words. Insinuating the king had ill-intentions left me internally tilted.
I picked up my pace, resolved to find the Crimson Wolf. My only salvation.
The trees thinned the closer we came to Lyrae. Bex paused and gestured for me to stroll forward. “This is where I leave you. Follow this game trail and it will take you to the western side ofLyrae.” A soft smile relaxed her features. “I hope you find what you’re searching for.”
I dipped my head in gratitude. Bex assumed her more tree-like stature as her roots sent plumes of soil in the air. Within minutes she had been subsumed by the forest, and I was left with the chirping birds.
Ahead, the trees opened to a small field, and beyond that was the beautiful city of Lyrae. Waterways zigzagged in living ribbons of cerulean silk below a breathtaking city. Buildings connected by gleaming bridges paid no mind to the landscape below. They seemed to float above the water-carved land and the gurgling canals. They created an organized city despite the earth’s attempts to command a different placement.
The buildings themselves were works of art. Some stood tall with spires and turrets, others revealed elaborate balconies. Almost all of them were several stories high, with intricate filigree detailing the sides and corners. Statues of vicious-looking naiads kept watch on the roofs and eaves of several structures.
Glass covered many of the buildings, gleaming and glittering with the passing of the clouds across the sun. Vines with magenta flowers meandered their way up stone walls, their petals, like bored confetti, hazily rained down to the streets below.
Many of the buildings appeared to be living quarters. The lower levels of several of them boasted signs for stores and businesses. Skiffs and small boats drifted through the waterways. Some carried goods, others carried people. The tinkle of laughter coasted softly on the breeze. Large fountains established roundabouts for efficient movement of boats and gondolas. Their geysers shot several stories into the air, with vaporous spray merging with the humidity.
I urged my horse on, descending into the field that separated the forest from the city itself. I scanned the outskirts, locating a stable. We trotted toward it so that I could house my mare while I sleuthed around the city. I found an empty stall and quickly changed out of my leathers and into a nondescript, dark-purple dress. I finger-brushed my hair, setting it half-up to keep clear of my face. I wasn’t Ruin, the elite spy. I was Rue Vespera, sweet, unassuming traveler.
My search for the Crimson Wolf officially began.
Chapter Fifteen
THE SPY
The city bustled with oblivious people. Open windows brought snippets of conversations weaving among the buzz of the city’s energy. I wandered around the cobblestoned paths and numerous bridges. Walls of limestone and iron bars prevented a careless pedestrian from falling into the waterways below, and I stopped periodically to peer over the sides. Everything about this city seemed brighter than Maripol, even the auras. Yarit was supposed to be darker. Perhaps my senses were off.
I manipulated the moisture in the air to funnel distant conversations toward me. I scoffed at the normalcy of the people around me. Petty gossip, business transactions, and frivolous shopping as if the world around them wasn’t teeming with deceptions, drug trafficking, and destruction. They had no idea they lived in a delusion. The Good King held the reigns of wrath, and soon all that was wrong would be made right. My desire to apprehend the Crimson Wolf burned within me. I was my own savior in this traitorous land.
Korin had unknowingly offered me a bit of information that served as the basis for my search. I wandered the streets until Ifound a tavern. The bartender tipped his head at me as he dried a tankard in his hands.
“Do you know of any places around here that serve chocolate tarts? Oh and a good roasted rabbit?” I smiled up at him expectantly.
He set the tankard down with a grin. “Got a craving do ya? A lot of places around here serve rabbit. Only two I know of make chocolate tarts. I would try the Foxhole near the Topaz Castle, and maybe the Mud Pit. Both should have what you’re looking for.”
I left a small tip for his recommendations before pulling out the map Maelic supplied me with. The detail of Lyrae allowed me to move within the city with confidence. I started northward toward the jeweled beacon in the north. It sat overlooking the city of waterways where the queen of Lyrae resided. Queen Avery still allowed trade between our realms, but it was well-known that her realm was threatened by the freedom Haluma boasted under King Nolan. Yarit kept many secrets, particularly around the strange nymphs that resided here—dryads within their forests and sirens off their coast.
The waning sun brought the coolness of the sea air further inland. Stores closed their doors and shutters; lights slowly winked out. Auras that wafted off of passersby seemed calmer and lighter than I had grown accustomed to. Lyrae’s very atmosphere contrasted acutely with the heavy darkness that veiled my homeland.
Curiously, I didn’t see any obvious signs of Glint’s circulation. It ravaged Maripol seemingly unchecked. I knew too many kind people whose bodies turned up in dank alleyways, the golden residue of Glint smeared across their lifeless faces. Maripol may not have sirens, but the temptation song of Glint lured just as enticingly. Everyone knew Yarit was a darker,dirtier place than Haluma, but as I strolled its streets, the evidence proved the exact opposite. It left me unsettled.
I caught sight of a familiar face, a rebel I’d tussled with back in Maripol. He walked purposely with another man. I followed at a discreet distance, casually window-shopping and using the reflections to keep track of them. They entered a pub ahead of me. I lingered a few minutes before following behind them.
Tugging on the moisture in the air, I drew their low voices toward me in subtle currents. Their auras pulsed erratically in shades of maroon and deep crimson, signaling agitation and concern.
“She might be getting better at reorganizing the land, but she’s still not accurate enough.”
“If she can’t control the earthquakes better, she might destroy a part of Lyrae.” The men exchanged knowing looks.
“The Queen will take her out before that happens. She doesn’t put up with strange magic—too threatening.” He absently toyed with the tabletop, his fingers skimming the worn surface.
“You know whatshesays about her?” the first man said, then took a deep swallow of his drink. “She foresaw her success, and the General believes in her abilities.”
They grew quiet. “I hope they’re right. If she succeeds it could change the outcome of this war. But if she doesn’t…”
They somberly nodded.
I stowed their cryptic conversation away as the men moved on to more mundane topics. I wrestled with staying with them or returning to my search for Korin. I decided to risk losing both for greater gain and gambled on Korin. The night air washed over me when I left the pub and turned north once more.
