Page 104 of Crown of Betrayal and Blood

My mind reels. My mother, a woman of royal lineage, dying due to a plant picked by an inexperienced forager. Thousands of questions bounce around in my head.

Was my mother a dragoncaller, or perhaps just a carrier of the gene? Has there ever been more than one dragoncaller at a time? Are they all women, or have there been male dragoncallers too?

The weight of revelation still hangs heavy on my shoulders as I clear my throat. “She mentioned that she left me a gift?”

“Ah, yes.” Eldor reaches into a pocket in his breeches and withdraws a leather pouch. From inside, he produces a small dagger, holding it delicately between his calloused fingers. “Your mother treasured this. It’s been in the family for many generations. Rumor is it belonged to the first dragoncaller.” His eyes twinkle, and I don’t know him well enough to tell whether he’s serious. “Now it is yours.”

I’m cautious as I take the weapon from him, marveling at the intricate scrollwork carved along the edge. The silver lines weave an elegant dance. The razor-sharp point promises precision and danger with the slightest touch.

It fits my hand perfectly, like it was crafted just for me. Once again, my emotions flare, tears brimming unbidden. As I wipe them away, I notice the channels in the intricate scrollwork.

I’m leaving you a gift to remember me by, a place to store your grief.

Pulse drumming, I guide a few drops onto the knife. My tears meander through the grooves like a tiny river before collecting at the tip of the blade.

Agnar whistles. “That’s wicked.”

“Right?”

This isn’t just a keepsake. It’s a tool designed for my legacy, a means to provide healing.

The real question is, are my tears powerful enough to heal those corrupted by the drachen? To destroy drachen themselves?

“Thank you.” I blink back another flood of tears, waiting until I’m sure my voice won’t crack. “This is incredible.”

Eldor studies me for a moment, his gaze steady. “Again, no need to thank me. But I want you to know I’m here for you and will help you defeat the drachen in any way I can. I can fight. I can research. I can be a sounding board as you and those close to you try to figure out what we’re up against. Whatever you need.”

Biting back the urge to thank him again, an idea hits me. “Why don’t you stay in the palace? Or at least come and go as you please. I can arrange for a room.”

Rhiann won’t mind ensuring that my grandfather gets a nice chamber to stay in whenever he’s at the palace. Probably.

Agnar grunts, then opens his mouth like he’s going to protest, but I elbow him in the ribs. I don’t want to have theare you sure we can trust him?talk in front of my grandfather.

Eldor watches the exchange with an amused half smile on his face. “That won’t be necessary. It’s not that far, and I don’t want to cause anyone discomfort.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” I wave off his refusal. “When it comes to the drachen, we need all the help we can get. I’ll ensure a room is ready for you tomorrow, and you can come as you please.” Only when his shoulders sag with acceptance do I remember one of the reasons I came here in the first place. “I’m curious though. Why did you put sleeping herbs in my soup? To see if I could cleanse the bowl of the poison?”

“Soup?” Eldor shakes his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I put the note with the cheese plate. There was no bowl or cup on your tray.”

Agnar curses beside me.

My blood stills. “If you didn’t… The soup wasn’t on the tray when you left the note?”

“No. Sounds like you may still have some enemies here, Lark.” Eldor frowns, his eyes darkening with concern. “I suggest you put finding them at the top of your list.”

ChapterThirty-Four

On the way back from meeting with Eldor, I fill Agnar in on the details of my journey. It’s been a long few days, and all I want to do is be with Sterling. In the morning, Agnar will join us, and we’ll figure out some sort of a plan.

Once inside the palace, I slip past the guards, excited to finally get a chance to talk to Sterling. I have so much to share with him, including the fact that my maternal grandfather is alive and kicking.

I close the door behind me as I enter his private sitting room. The space is quiet and dark. Has Sterling gone to bed already? Did the guards tell him I’m back?

In this part of the palace, I don’t notice any ever-lights. My hand flicks out, and small flames spring to life at the wick of each candle lining the walls. As the light chases away shadows, I search for him, but Sterling’s not here.

Maybe he’s asleep. It’s got to be close to midnight at this point. A long day with the royal council on top of yesterday’s horrors probably wore him out.

Grabbing one of the candles, I cross the room and open the door to his bedchamber.

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