Page 62 of Vicious Is My Throne

Cosimo pulled over a sheet of vellum, dipping his pen into the inkwell. “Describe this weapon.”

Since neither Cosimo nor I were artists, it took several attempts, but he’d finally sketched out a remarkable likeness. “The pendant is the other piece. The amulet fits at the end of the pommel, though I couldn’t see how from the diagram. Which means I have somewhere to be.” I threw back of the rest of the tea—mostly liquor, thank the gods.

“I have to search Trubahn’s shop and find the pendant.”

“His shop burned to the ground, remember?” Torin shot Zeph a stern look. “Dragonfire. Nothing survives that heat, not even magical amulets.” Zeph looked only slightly remorseful.

“And I need a pair of boots.”

I drummed my fingers on the table. “We need that pendant or we’re back to square one. Bexley theorized that empty hole in the center of the blade had something to do with gathering magic.”

“I’ll see what I can find out about this weapon. And boots.” Cosimo pushed out of his chair, uncharacteristically pale. “Out of curiosity, that paper of Anaria’s, the one with the symbols. Was that the only copy?”

“As far as I know,” I lied, the words slipping off my tongue like silk. “Why?”

“Nothing. I was just curious.”

I finally got a good look at the map they’d been studying when I’d arrived, the swath of black descending from the north. I forced myself to keep breathing. “Is that up to date?”

“Zeph got back an hour before you did.” Torin braced both hands on the table. “Three more days and the blight will reach the city.”

I went to the window and saw what I hadn’t before. Wagons loaded down with families clutching bags and boxes, all staring into the distance at nothing.

Torin came to stand beside me. “We’re sending them to the Havens, but I don’t know how much time that will buy them. Simon is there now, trying to arrange boats. How many he can find, I do not know, but I will empty the royal coffers of every last gilder to save these people.”

Two hours later I was in Southwell, sifting through ashes and melted nails in a pair of borrowed army boots, the charred crossbeams of Trubahn’s shop still reeking of smoke and dragonfire.

I cursed Zephryn and his short temper, cursed myself for leaving Anaria to fend for herself when I should have stayed.

Then I cursed Corvus and the blight and the Oracle for good measure.

My foot caught on a solidified puddle of melted iron hidden in the wreckage, a hunk of metal that had once been a small cauldron. I tossed it over my shoulder into the pile of debris I’d already sorted through.

If I could find that pendant, then we’d have a chance to kill Corvus and stop this destruction. Of course, our success depended on Anaria and Tristan securing the blade, but I had faith in my princess and her determination.

Knowing Anaria, she probably already had the damn thing.

While I had nothing.

If the pendant was here when the shop burned, it hadn’t survived. Anything made of wood was powdery gray ash. Nails were melted into pellets. The slate roof gone. Even the glass beakers had liquefied, forged together with ash and metal, some of them coated in remnants of magic I avoided like the plague.

Because it could be the plague.

Fuck knew the sorts of experiments Trubahn had been running.

Boots crunched behind me, and I turned to find Zephryn surveying the destruction with a muttered curse.

“You did a thorough job, dragon, I’ll give you that.” My tone was more bitter than I’d intended, but then I decided fuck it. If this place had still been standing, we would have stood some chance at completing the weapon and ending this for good.

Now we’d have to find some other way.

“If I could do that night over again, I would. The mage was a fucking monster and I let my temper get the better of me for what he did to Simon.”

Some of my anger softened at the thickness in Zephryn’s voice. But nothing changed the fact the world’s survival could very well hinge on us finding that pendant.

“Would he have locked something that valuable in a safe, do you think?” I studied the ruins for anything that resembled a metal box. Or a pool of smelted metal that could have been a safe.

“I was only inside this shop twice. Once to try and buy Simon’s freedom back, and the other…well, I wasn’t exactly memorizing the layout when I was burning it to the ground.”

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