Page 65

Kit’s breath actually stuttered as she took in the emerald hue. They were Elyria’s eyes. And they were looking Kit up and down from head to toe.

She couldn’t call it leering. There wasn’t anything lecherous about his gaze. But it was . . . assessing. Calculating.

And there was something disturbingly familiar about that, too.

“Lady Ravenswing,” Tartanis said, inclining his head. “At last. I was beginning to think we would never be properly introduced.”

“And here I was, hoping for that very same thing.”

His smile didn’t slip. “In that case, I’m sorry to disappoint.” He gestured to the opposite chair, then took his seat once more. “May I offer you some tea? Or maybe you’d prefer something stronger?”

“You could offer me Malakar’s severed head,” Kit replied, stubbornly staying on her feet. “That would be a decent start.”

“Alas, I am fresh out of severed heads. The dark sorcerer has been proving inconveniently resilient. But perhaps we can discuss ways to change that.”

“Not sure exactly how you propose doing so. The king seems rather firmly set on a course of no action.”

“Ah. So he has given the answer we expected.” Tartanis pursed his lips.

“Unfortunately,” confirmed Sephone, who had drifted to the sideboard and began pouring herself a drink.

Kit dipped her chin in confirmation. “He won’t even assign men to sniff out the cultists hiding in Nyrundelle, let alone send troops to Luminaria. And should more cultist attacks occur in Havensreach . . . Well, I hope King Callum has had enough time to regroup.”

“I see.” Tartanis considered Kit for a moment, then inclined his head again, as if she’d just passed some invisible test. “I appreciate frankness,” he said, “so allow me to be equally frank. Our goals, Lady Ravenswing, are aligned. I want Malakar stopped. I want his followers scattered. I want my daughter safe.”

“My sister is already safe,” Kit snapped. “Thanks to Cedric and everyone else who put their lives on the line to get her out. You can have credit for your man being in the right place at the right time”—she waved a hand in Raefe’s direction, who let out a snort—“but you don’t get to pretend her rescue is the result of some noble crusade on your part.”

“Of course not,” Tartanis said mildly. “I would never presume to present myself as a noble crusader. I am a businessman, plain and simple. I deal in leverage, in information, in possibilities. And I’ve spent a very long time establishing myself, building my operation to be able to be in this exact place, at this exact time. Malakar and his cultists threaten to disrupt all my careful planning, and we cannot have that.” He sucked on a tooth. “It would be . . . bad for business.”

Kit’s gaze flicked to the map on the wall. At the pins clustered around the jagged Chasms that carved through the continent. Then the ones marking the Sacred Mountain, Luminaria, and dotted throughout the Midlands. Each one indicating⁠—

“You know about the mana springs,” Kit said slowly, finally taking a seat in the armchair opposite Tartanis.

“I’ve been putting the pieces together. Based on the cultist activity we have been able to sniff out over the past couple of weeks, it’s clear that he has people watching the springs.”

“Why?”

Tartanis exchanged a look with Raefe. “Tell her.”

Raefe’s mouth tightened. He moved closer to the map, lifting a finger to trace the edge of the pin placed just outside Luminaria—over the massive mana spring there.

“It was all a bit of a blur, to be honest, but at Castle Lumin, Malakar and his cultists kept yelling about forges and ‘the Line.’ He was fixated on it. ‘The Line will be pierced,’ he said. ‘The world rewritten.’ We think . . . That is, Master Tartanis thinks⁠—”

“I think he may have been talking about the Line of Origin,” Tartanis finished.

Kit’s forehead creased. “The what?”

“It is the seam of power that runs beneath the world. From where all magic stems. Legend says it is where Aurelia first pulled mana to the surface, first gave humans the ability to wield magic.”

“That’s a bedtime story,” Kit said slowly. “A fairy tale. It cannot possibly be real.” Even as she spoke the words though, she knew they were pointless. There was no limit to the number of things she’d once thought impossible that had turned out to be, in fact, very possible.

“This is all speculation, of course,” said Tartanis. “But if it is true, if the Line of Origin exists, and if Malakar’s goal is to pierce it, to use the power at the very heart of Arcanis, there is no telling the kind of havoc he might wreak.”

“Not to mention the fucking forges the blood mages kept screaming about,” added Raefe. “‘Protect the forges! Get to the forges!’” He threw his arms in the air. “Incessant.”

“Mana forges?” asked Kit. “Inside Castle Lumin?”

Raefe shrugged. “I don’t know. It wasn’t as though I had time to take a tour.”