Page 127 of Merciless Is My Crown

“This…ally of yours,” Cosimo asked pointedly. “Are you sure they’re reliable? What are the chances they’ll keep their word and won’t sell you out?”

I traded another long look with Torin. Tristan noticed, lips pinched into a tight, disapproving line. “Anyone who was ever used by the Oracle feared for their lives, including our defector. Let’s hope hatred trumps loyalty in this case.”

Cosimo’s smile turned calculating. “In that case, this is as good a plot as any. Smart. Ruthless. Decisive. You would make a good queen.”

I waved my hand in the air like I could brush away those words and everything they meant. “Not going to happen. There are plenty of people who want to sit on thrones, but I’m not one of them. So you think the plan could work?”

“I do.” He held my gaze steadily. “I still have some contacts in Blackcastle. I’ll make a trip into town tomorrow and see if I can secure us more allies.”

“Okay,” I said, more to myself than anyone else. “Okay. That’s good.”

My eyes dipped to the papers on the old table between us, the ones Cosimo was studiously pretending didn’t exist.

“Do those notes explain how to kill the Old Gods? Because that’s what has to happen once the Shadow King is gone.”

The astrologer leaned forward and traced his finger slowly over the markings, as if committing them to memory. As if fighting some inner battle.

Once. Twice.

I lunged forward as the papers went up in a flash of smoke and flame, sweeping my hand through a faint shower of drifting ash as I stared at Cosimo in shocked disbelief.

“You bastard,” I hissed, ignoring Torin’s low murmured warning. “I don’t give two shites who you are, that was our only hope for getting rid of those two monsters.”

We still had Raziel’s copy, of course, but Cosimo didn’t know that. Right then and there, I decided we’d find a hiding place for that information before we left tomorrow. Somewhere here in Wingcrest…in case tomorrow went…badly.

“That information was too dangerous for you—for any of us—to possess.” His voice was cold. Hard. Inflexible. “Having that in writing…If the Oracle knew that information existed, she would burn that library to the ground.”

“Stormfall’s made of stone,” I told him tightly.

“She can melt stone, Anaria. Flesh and bone and iron and stone. Nothing is safe from her, not now. She has enough power now to last her for another thousand years, even if you fail tomorrow and this world is not fully rebirthed. Plenty of time to breed another five hosts for the magic.”

“No,” I said. “She doesn’t. Because the magic doesn’t answer to her.”

Cosimo’s lips quirked up into a tight, condescending smile. “And who, pray tell, does the mighty power of the Fae answer to? You?”

Every part of me wanted to brag, to tell him yes, that power is mine, but instinct had me saying, “It doesn’t answer to her because the magic knows she’ll corrupt it.”

“What if we’re the end of our bloodlines?” Tavion asked, wisely steering the conversation away from me. “I’ve been thinking about this, and…I’m the last Montgomery, Zorander was his father’s only child, Raz…doesn’t know who his parents were.” His eyes landed on me. “Anaria is the king’s only living descendant.”

Tristan’s head jerked my direction, his expression closing off. “I’m heading outside. To check the perimeter one more time, just to make sure Trubahn didn’t manage to compromise us.” He turned away. But I’d seen what was hidden in the shadows of his face.

Secrets.

Lord DeVayne had so very many secrets, and one of these days, I was going to convince him to reveal them.

“That you know of.” Cosimo shook his head, watching Tristan disappear through the door. “If there is any chance of tracking down those bloodlines, the Oracle will succeed, even if it takes her another millennium.” He couldn’t stop his grin, though, when his gaze raked over us.

“She’s probably cursing herself right now, though, for bringing you all into existence. A bunch of defiant and intractable minions, defying her at every turn. Warms my heart, really.”

“Since you burned my clues, the least you can do is tell me what that writing said. Is there a way to destroy her and her brother?”

“You don’t want to know,” Cosimo said flatly. “We’re better off focusing on the Shadow King and what needs done here in Solarys rather than ancient history.”

“You couldn’t read the language, could you?” I laughed. “All that blustering, just to cover up?—”

Cosimo bristled. “The only way to kill them is to sacrifice yourselves in the process, so no, there aren’t any answers, only a dead end. Unless you’re planning to surrender yourself and your friends to the cause.”

I rocked back, arms folded across my chest. “So they can die. Good to know.”

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