Page 107 of The Musician and the Monster

“Not alone,” she interjected. “You trusted Malik and me to help you. You trusted Jackoby and the others to keep your secret even before then.”

He frowned. “Trusting others got me into this mess. It’s best I go alone.”

“We’re not your uncle.” She took his hand in hers. “Misplaced trust may have gotten you into this, but properly placed trust can get you out.” Drystan opened his mouth, but Ceridwen rushed on before he could protest. “Trust me, if no one else.”

“Ceridwen…” His shoulders slumped.

“You can’t hide from the world forever. We’ll do this. Together.”

A brief nod was all he had the time to give before she rushed to the door.

Ceridwen showed Malik and Bronwyn into the room, the latter of which did not appear surprised by his appearance. Apparently, Malik had filled her in.

“The midwinter party the king is hosting is going to be our chance,” Ceridwen said, keeping her voice in a low whisper as they settled in close within the seating area.

In anyone else, such confidence and fervor would have delighted him, but coming from her, it only made him anxious. The more he tried to keep her from harm, the further she threw herself into it.

“I’m going to play for the king at the party, just as he asked. He requested a few songs, but perhaps I’ll make the last one a vocal performance.” Her gaze drifted to Drystan, every word out of her mouth sending his spine straightening until it hurt. “I’ll write my own, one to tell your tale and reveal the deceptions of the king.”

And get herself killed in the process.“No. You can’t—”

But she kept going. “Drystan, you can reveal your true identity, proof that the king lied to the people. Once the people see the truth, you can kill him with the blade.”

He bared his teeth, a snarl slipping through. “This is—”

Malik crossed his legs on the sofa, ignoring him. “Interesting, but you’re missing some important details. For one, my father is incredibly powerful. He’s honed the darkness for years. And secondly, there will undoubtedly be guards to contend with.”

“We’ll knock them out. Distract them…”

Drystan rose, raking a hand through his hair.It will never work.

“All of them?” Bronwyn asked skeptically. “And if some are innocent and get hurt?”

Drystan halted his pacing. At least one of them saw reason.

“A barrier spell might help. Or rather, several of them,” Malik supplied. “One to keep dark wielders, like my father, contained. Another to halt the advance of the guards.”

“As if we can work such a spell on the spot,” Drystan snapped.

Malik shrugged. “I have a suspicion where within the palace he’ll host the party, one I can easily confirm. We’ll work the spells in advance and be strategic in their placementto make sure they don’t get triggered early and raise suspicion. The trick will be finding a time to place them when no one’s looking.”

That part seemed plausible. “I could work some,” Drystan said, “under the guise of carrying out the orders of the king.”Goddess, help me, am I agreeing with this nonsense?

“As could I, now that you mention it,” Malik said. “I’m better with barriers anyway, and my father insists I visit the castle first thing in the morning. The area I think they’ll use for the party is naturally divided, so it might not be terribly difficult. Father doesn’t like to mingle, even with other nobles, but you know how he loves to be seen.”

More like worshiped from afar. Seen, praised, the center of their attention, but Goddess forbid he mingle with them as if they were equals. Even before he was king, the man held himself with such arrogance that he should have known he’d be happy with nothing less than the crown, but Drystan wasn’t about to start down that path.

“But what about getting the king to confess?” Bronwyn asked, leaping to her feet and staring at them all as if they’d lost it. Perhaps they had.

The pieces Malik laid out made a certain sense that he couldn’t fully fault, though involving Ceridwen was another matter. He’d have to discuss it with her and make sure she truly understood the danger they were all in. The thought of her anywhere near the king made his insides hollow out and his monster stir. He’d lost too much to the man already.

“From the sound of him, he’d never admit his own crimes,” Bronwyn said.

No, he definitely won’t.

“A truth spell?”

Drystan glanced at Malik and shook his head. “It’s complex light magic. I don’t know it.”

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