The words spread a chill across my skin. The lack of emotion in the count’s voice tells me he really believes the woman I’ve known for most of my life is capable of murder.
“You’re supposed to keep control over the Dead. What happened?” A dark-haired young woman moves to the count’s side, turning Duke Bevan’s signet ring over in her shaking hands, making me wonder if she’s one of his descendants. “Let me guess. Are our newest master necromancers starved for business?” She glares at us through streaming eyes. “Did you set up this attack so we’d hire you to raise the victims, knowing we can afford to pay a pretty fortune to have our families together again? Perhaps I’m mistaken, but then, you’ll have to spell out your demands a bit more clearly.”
“Here’s a demand,” Jax growls, sauntering toward the young woman until they’re practically nose-to-nose. “Shut your mouth.”
Valoria sucks in a breath, and my pulse quickens as I follow her gaze to Count Rykiel.
“Are you threatening us?” The count’s eyes flash as he beckons to a group of nearby palace guards.
They march forward, shielding the count and other nobles from Jax.
The few Wyldings standing apart from the wall of guards quickly scurry away from us, to the safety of bows and blades and strength in numbers. Valoria and Hadrien’s three younger siblings, two boys and a girl, are among them.
But Valoria doesn’t follow. She loops her arm through mine, making it clear that she’s not about to leave the six of us—me, Evander, Cymbre, Danial, Jax, and Simeon—any more alone than we already are.
“No one around here is thinking logically,” Valoria mutters. “Master Cymbre is the only necromancer who went to Dyrn City.” She raises her voice like she wants the rest of the palace to hear her. “Assuming the duke became a Shade, and she’s to blame, she doesn’t have the strength to drag him all the way here. And if she paid someone to help her—which sounds even more ridiculous—where would she have hidden the duke that no one would’ve heard him screeching before the party?”
“Even if Cymbre were capable of something like that, which I highly doubt she is...”
Prince Hadrien emerges from the palace and sweeps into the courtyard, turning to face us without a single glance at his relatives. “The other necromancers had nothing to do with it. They’ve been enjoying the party all night, just like the rest of you.”
I never thought I’d be this glad to hear the prince’s voice.
“I trust our mages. Every last one.” Hadrien puts one hand on Master Cymbre’s shoulder, the other on Evander’s. “And so should you.”
But the prince’s relatives don’t seem willing to take his word on the matter.
“Do you have anything to say for yourselves?” the dark-haired young woman with Duke Bevan’s ring sneers. “Or will you just let the prince and princess speak for you?”
“I have a few words,” Simeon shoots back. “You can all go straight—”
“I can’t believe this,” Evander interrupts, glowering at the many accusing faces directed our way. “Sparrow just saved your lives, damn near getting herself killed in the process. How can you thinkwehad anything to do with what happened here?”
For a moment, silence hangs over us.
“If the necromancers aren’t responsible,” a woman’s smooth voice calls, “who is?”
I’d love to know the answer to that myself. It has to be someone outside the law. A criminal, paid to disrupt this party by someone who hates the king or even the duke, who certainly had his enemies. Or the guilty person could beabovethe law, like the nobles who stand here accusing us. Some look thoughtful. Others move about restlessly, like the tension in the air is too much for them, and a few continue to stare at us with open revulsion.
Finally, as I watch Master Cymbre’s eyes shift from anger to hurt, I find my voice again. “You’ve always trusted us before.” That isn’t the half of it, as they well know. Until tonight, every one of these people has held us in the same high esteem as Karthia’s best bards. As the wealthiest silk traders from the southern provinces. Asroyalty. Now they’re treating us like a couple of pox-ridden beggars from the Ashes.
I clench my fists at my sides, resisting the urge to shout.A glance at Evander helps me steady myself before I speak again.“You realize none of your beloved Dead would be here without us, don’t you? Not even—”
“Me,” a scratchy voice finishes. “Yes. Thank you, Sparrow.” King Wylding glides into view, flanked by two other masked and shrouded figures. “I’ve heard enough nonsense for one evening.” He turns to face his subjects. His family. “These mages”—he spreads his arms, his long black sleeves hanging down like a crow’s wings—“remain our beloved guests, and a vital part of my reign. You will continue to treat them with respect, if you do not wish to spend the next ten years admiring my dungeon walls.”
Valoria beams at the king. “He’s not so bad sometimes,” she whispers. “For a cranky great-great-great... well, Eldest Grandfather.”
“What happened to Duke Bevan is a tragedy,” the king adds in a voice like dead leaves scraping across the courtyard. “And to the others who have died or been injured in this massacre,” he adds. “But I did not give in to fear and speculation in life, and I won’t in Death either. We will carry on as we always have,” the king continues, raising his raspy voice and reclaiming my attention. “And we will look to our necromancers, now more than ever, to find answers and keep us safe from Shades. For Karthia. For us all.”
“For Karthia,” the young nobles echo, somewhat grudgingly in my opinion. “For us all.”
The king claps his hands once. “Good. Now, everyone head to your rooms. I think we can all agree—the party is over.”
As the royal procession disappears into the palace, Cymbre draws the four of us newest master necromancers close. Valoria and Danial hang back but stay near, no doubt listening, too.
“We need to get to the bottom of this threat—whatever it may be—and contain it swiftly. Not only for the safety of Karthia, but to uphold the name of necromancer. First, though”—Cymbre smiles wanly—“we must get some rest before the hunt tomorrow.” She narrows her eyes. “Remember, if you try anything without me, I’ll wring your necks faster than you can sayDeadlands.”
The group disperses, only Evander and Valoria remaining by my side.
