Page 25 of Feathered Thief

Probably the same way Kazik hid his own magic: instinctively. If not for Ludwik’s tutoring, Kazik wouldn’t haveknown anything about what was happening to him and around him, let alone how to prevent it.

Was his father aware of his own crimes? Was that freeloading magic reallyhis? What if the archduke was controlling him . . .

But believing the best would be rank foolishness in this case. His father’s expressions and tone of voice clearly revealed that his desire for wealth and advancement had overtaken his honor, his integrity, and his love for his family.

When his father finally finished praising Angelika, Kazik remained silent, still longing to be proven wrong. The grand duke frowned. “Have you nothing to say? You must be greatly pleased! Such a marriage will set you up for life.”

Kazik spoke in his most respectful and grateful tone: “I am already set for life, betrothed as I am to Princess Helena of Zyrardów. We exchanged sacred promises months ago.” As if his father didn’t know. “King Ryszard is your faithful adviser and lifetime friend.”

Shock, then anger flashed through his father’s eyes, but then he—the Grand Duke Warin Lisiewicz—assumed a regretful yet resigned expression. “My son, those of us born into positions of authority are frequently obligated to place the greater good above our own desires. The royal family of Zyrardów—my former advisor and his daughter—chose to return to their little kingdom. Their coach left at least an hour ago.”

As his father spoke the last word, what felt like a lightning bolt zapped Kazik’s mind, but his shields deflected the blunt-force attempt to destroy his free will. He refused to blink, his confidence rising.No onewould control him with magic, much less force him to break his betrothal vows to the girl he loved. “Did Helena and her father agree to cancel the betrothal?” he asked. “Idid not.”

All pretense vanished. Fury contorted his father’s face. “Kazimierz, you will marry as the archduke chooses.” His voicewas a nearly unrecognizable whine. “He has already invalidated the former contract.”

“But I have not.” As Kazik turned and walked to the door, another flash of magic attacked his mind and body, tunneling his vision and attempting to turn his own will against him. Resisting it felt like knives plunging into his brain, but once he opened the door and stepped into the corridor, the stolen magic snapped with a loudcrack.

Even as he was freed, the waiting guards and mages crumpled to the stone floor, groaning, and a shrill inhuman howl emanated from his father’s study.

“Excellent work!”A frighteningly cheerful and unmistakably fay voice spoke from nowhere.“I’ll take it from here.”

More than freaked out, Kazik sprinted back to his chambers, his feet scarcely touching the floor and stairs. Once there, he barred the door and scrambled to prepare for physical battle, assuming his father would send his entire guard and who knew what else to destroy his son’s rebellion.

But instead, he sensed that he was somehow safe for the moment. All was quiet. Too quiet.

He sat on his bed long enough to gain control and slow his breathing. At the same time, he did his best to weigh his options and come up with a plan.

He must chase down King Ryszard’s coach—all the way to Castle Valga if necessary—and convince Helena’s father to let him marry her. That was it, his one goal.

He kept his magical guard up, but no further attacks occurred. Still, he felt watched as he slipped into the kitchens to procure bread, dried meat, and fruit.

The stables were equally quiet. He found a stable boy asleep just inside the door, and he could barely keep Iga from dozing off while he tacked her up and tied his pack behind the saddle. Once on the highway toward Zyrardów, his mare shook off herlethargy and settled into a smooth jog. “I’m sorry you didn’t get a longer rest,” he told her. “But I need your company. Just tell me when you need to stop.”

He had all the time in the world to worry.

Starting with the realization that he hadn’t seen his mother all day.

Thinking back, he realized he hadn’t seen or even sensed her or her magic.

All. Day.

He’d been so focused on the melee and then Helena that he’d simply forgotten to think of his mother. Where could she be? And what kind of son forgets his own mother?

One thing he knew: Madame Euzebia wasn’t at Mnisztwo Castle. But where could she be?

Next, he worried over that magical battle in his father’s study. In hindsight, he knew that a third party—a fay—had been in that room. The voice he’d heard was decidedly male.

Where had the fay mage come from, and why?

But now he must focus on the main goal. He would marry Helena in the chapel at Castle Valga as soon as he arrived . . . if she and her father were still willing.

But he had no proof of their betrothal. Could they marry by some kind of special license? He might have to take her out of the country, maybe even off the continent, to marry her.

Ugh. Why couldn’t he knowsomethingfor sure?

He’d intended to ride through the night, but Iga began to falter a few hours before nightfall—after all, she’d worked hard in the melee. He really shouldn’t have ridden her . . . but he’d wanted her company. “I’m so sorry, girl! We’ll find an inn soon.”

They stopped at a small inn. The innkeeper was gruff until Kazik handed him two gold coins, after which Iga graciously accepted a thorough rubdown, a large box stall with a deep straw bed, a generous serving of grain, and a manger of sweet-smellinghay. His own quarters weren’t half bad, and he slept well despite all his worries.

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