I’mthe one meant to rescueher, no matter if the mere idea sounds like fantasy.
Or blasphemy.
Even if she spoke to me. And through me.
Trying to understand the motivations of a goddess may make my skull explode. Instead, I concentrate on each breath and try to push the thoughts of my impending demise out of my mind.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
Finally, maybe an hour later, I hear Elianna’s breathing smooth out into sleep. Suddenly, the possibility—the wild, slim possibility—of escape flashes into my mind. I could take my new clothes and my poisons, sneak out of the palace, and leave Pallanhold forever. Maybe become a poisoner in truth.
Or alibrarian. One who doesn’t hurt people. One who shares knowledge with everyone, not just a privileged few. My true dream, after all these years of secretly reading everything I could get my hands on. My heart pounds in rhythm with my aching head at the thought.
I sit straight up in the little bed, staring at the closed but unbolted door. Because the sound isn’t my heart or head pounding. It’s boots thundering through the corridors, followed closely by people shouting.
“Lady Elianna!” I grab her shoulder and shake it. “What’s happening? Who—”
The door crashes open, and Kaelen races into the room, his sword in hand. “Get up and dressed. Now. We’re starting our quest tonight.”
“But we have three days,” I say, not understanding.
Elianna sits up with a groggy “What?”
“You, too, sorcerer,” the prince commands, sheathing his sword. He yanks the blankets off me and grabs my arm to pull me up to my feet.
“What do you mean, her, too?” I pull away from Kaelen and reach for my new clothes, ready on the end of my bed. “What’s happening?”
“The Zhagarn have infiltrated the castle. They’re after the amulet. We need to leave.Now!”
“The Zhagarn created the Fell to serve them as soldiers. Some intelligence claims the Fell are the monstrous result of an evil metamorphosis performed on captured humans. Other reports claim the Fell are the hatchlings of a mutant species created by the goddess Corvynne.
We reject both propositions as speculation, given that none of the agents sent to verify these claims returned alive.
—Recorded scrolls, Office of the High Inquisitor, Pyrrh
CHAPTER SEVEN
“I’ll bar the door after you go,” Elianna says, more alert now.
“No, you won’t,” the prince says grimly. “The king ordered you to come with us.”
I grab Kaelen’s arm. “The princess. Is your sister safe?”
His eyes soften, and he puts his hand over mine. A sizzle of awareness jumps from my skin to his, and my breath catches in my throat. “Yes. She’s with the queen in the most defensible part of the palace.”
The sorcerer stares at us and then seems to wake up out of a daze. “Now. We’re leaving now. Yes. I need to pack essentials.”
“You have five minutes.”
My back to Kaelen, I yank off my nightshirt, and pull on my new clothes. When I turn around, he’s staring at me, his face carved into hard lines of fury.
“The scars on your back,” he grinds out from between clenched teeth. “Who did that?”
