Page 88 of Vicious Is My Throne

“I saw the princess.” Everything inside me stilled at those words. “She and the rest of your merry crew. At the Wynter Palace.” I sucked in a gulp of air and the Oracle noticed, her smile turning serpentine.

I swallowed. And tasted…dragonfire?

“Oh, she’s a clever little thing, but not clever enough. We made a bargain. The magic in Varitus in exchange for the means to stop my brother.” She sounded so smug I wanted to strike her down. “I expect she is already there, plotting a way to drop the wall and keep all that lovely magic for herself.”

Now that I’d noticed it, the stench of dragonfire hung around her so strongly I could barely catch my breath. Too strong. I glanced at her feet through the shifting shadows, and they were stained black, like she’d been walking through ash.

Or the charred remains of a certain mage’s burned-out shop.

“Anaria is in Varitus?” Torin asked, derailing my train of thought. “You heartless bitch, sending her back there when you know what that will do to her.”

“So soft,” the Oracle sneered. “That was always your biggest problem.” Her hands tightened on the edge of the table as she leaned in. “All of you, too weak to make the necessary choices to save this world. It’s a wonder you’ve gotten as far as you have.”

I was hardly listening because Torin was right.

Varitus would bring Anaria nothing but misery. She’d been brutalized in that place. Enslaved.

Setting foot in that shitehole realm would bring back memories of horrors she never should have endured in the first place. Horrors that were my fucking fault.

I should never have left.

I should have remained, and maybe…maybe I would have only made things worse.

Anaria was alive. In Varitus. She’d probably driven a hard bargain with this creature if I knew my princess at all. Horror turned to pride, fear to wicked glee.

“What did you trade in return? More lies, I suppose?” I taunted when her eyes locked with mine. “Or, let me guess, some bullshite half-truths that will be of little help when she has to face your brother.”

“So clever, Commander Vayle. I’m glad at least one of you has a modicum of sense. Now where is the astrologer? I want to see him.”

“Out,” Torin said shortly. “Cleaning up your brother’s mess.” Her gaze narrowed as if she was working something out. “Why would you need to see him?”

“Perhaps I am missing my old companion. He did, after all, spend more time with me than he ever did with you.” Her gaze seemed to devour Torin. “It occurred to me that I haven’t seen Cosimo since he was…liberated.” A careless shrug. “I’d like to see how he’s enjoying freedom.”

She’s searching for the pendant.

As soon as the thought occurred to me, the Oracle’s face swiveled my direction. Her gaze crystallized as if she was finally recognized my change in appearance. “You cut your hair.”

I ran my hand over my shorn scalp. “It was too long and Anaria prefers it this way.”

Chances were, such a creature wouldn’t care—or know—one way or another what a mortal preferred, and I was right.

She sniffed delicately. “I liked it long. Now where is Cosimo? I will go find him if necessary.”

Fuck. The astrologer could barely walk the last time I’d seen him, and if she put two and two together…

37

ANARIA

“If there is another stone at the Keep, then we’d have three.” Tavion paced from one end of the closet to the other, as if he couldn’t stop himself from moving. “Three of them. That would give us the edge we’ve been looking for.”

“Keep your voice down. You’ll wake up Tristan.”

I wasn’t sure I could handle three of these damn things, not with how furiously my blood churned through my veins in time to the beat of this magic.

Riotously. As if my body yearned for this power.

“We should stay focused on the knife,” Raz demurred. “That should be our priority. We don’t need another side quest to distract us from our goal. We drop the wall then fly straight to the Keep. Find Zorander, who hopefully had the wits to search for the pendant, unite the two pieces, and hunt down an Old God.”

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