Page 52 of Vicious Is My Throne

“Did you feel that?” Tavion went still beside me. “I recognize that taint of foul magic. She’s fucking found us.”

Wide green eyes locked with mine, and Tavion shoved me, fucking shoved me across the floor. “Go. Fly to Blackcastle. You can make it in one jump. One of us has to get away, and I can’t escape this place like you. If I can, I’ll warn Anaria and Tristan, send them to you before she gets her claws into either of them.”

I debated.

For a split second, I debated staying.

But getting trapped by a vengeful Oracle meant not being alive to help Anaria. And one of us had to survive.

“Try not to fucking die,” I hissed before vanishing into the wind.

18

ANARIA

“My sister does not lie.” Gideon’s back was so rigid I wondered if he might snap in two.

“That’s like saying water isn’t wet.” Tristan snorted before I jammed my elbow into his side.

“What about this warning?” I asked quietly. We were so close to getting the knife, yet Tristan was bound and determined to undermine this transaction. And why the fuck had he brought a vial of his wyvern’s blood? I didn’t care if I was related to them, the thought of these craven creatures using any part of him in their rituals made me ill.

“A woman was spotted in the forest three weeks ago. Alone. The same time I had my vision of you, Princess. Not a coincidence, I think.” A shiver crawled up my spine.

“I’m not sure why that’s especially noteworthy.” I kept my tone even, but every hair on my arms stood up. “What did she look like?”

“Dark haired. Beautiful. Wrapped in shadow.” Ophelia’s expression was unreadable, but her eyes burned. “Like the spider that used to sit beside the Fae King, she was an ancient monster wrapped in a different skin, not of this world but another.”

The air went out of my lungs. “You saw the Oracle.”

Ophelia’s smile was pure delight. “In the flesh. Her new flesh, thanks to you.”

The world tilted and my mind went blank. I met Tristan’s gaze and found him staring, his white-knuckled hands knotted at his sides.

Gods. Three weeks. The Oracle had been free from her mind prison for three weeks and…had she spent those days hunting us? Or laying this trap, knowing, somehow, we’d end up here with Ophelia and Gideon at the edge of the blight-ridden forest?

Or was she already at the palace where our friends were defenseless against her magic?

We had to go. Had to get into the air. Had to…

“You look worried, Princess. Could it be you didn’t expect the spider to escape your trap?” Ophelia did not blink. “A blood circle. Very clever.”

“So you spoke to her. What message did she ask you to pass on?” My voice came out flat, my mind weighing every threat and danger, scrambling over blood-splattered images of Raz and Zor and Tavion lying dead at the palace, Gelvira’s mocking laughter already ringing inside my head.

“Give us her fucking message.”

“That you need to learn your place, Princess.” Ophelia recited the words, as if she’d been waiting her whole life to say them. “And that thieves deserve to lose that which they love most.”

Oh gods.

“You are outmatched, Princess,” Gideon taunted, openly gloating now. “This quest is for naught, your efforts a waste of time.”

“We need that knife, Anaria,” Tristan murmured, so quietly I barely heard him. “We need something to fight her with.”

I ground my teeth together. “The weapon. Give it to us so we can save our friends. Stop this blight.”

“I doubt you will be the one to stop anything.” She tapped her finger against her lip. “We have been at war with the Mystara since the moment they arrived. Our ancestors treatied with their queen, but that agreement was broken by the twins, who slaughtered us and destroyed our city.” She waved a hand at the surrounding forest. “In the same manner that is happening now.”

Ophelia’s eyes never left me. “Amalla was their queen’s name. A traitor, in name and deed.” Beside me, Tristan stiffened. “She promised they had not come to this world for conquest, that they would remain north of the Pale, but she lied.”

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