Page 177 of A Dance of Water

Graves’s gaze flickered from her boots to her eyes, sharp and unrelenting. "You didn’t have to. It’s written all over your face."

Fire danced along her palms.

Intimidation wasn’t working.

"Name your price," Graves said without inflection.

Merath purred, much like a cat, as she watched them. "Enough coin to fix up this old joint." She kicked at a toppled chair with the tip of her boot. "It’s not as it used to be. Upkeeping a tavern is hard for a female. Especially keeping the drunks out."

Tharen scoffed.

"Something funny?" she prodded.

"I doubt you have much trouble handling things on your own."

"Just so," Merath sang.

The fire in her hands grew.

"Fine," Tharen snarled. "You’ll have your coin. Now tell me what you know."

"I’ll tell as much as I wish." She held out a hand—withoutfire. "I’ll be paid now."

Graves watched as Tharen rolled his eyes and dug into the satchel at his side. Thankfully, they had the forethought to bring gold and silver. He pulled out a bag weighed down with coins and tossed it toward her. Her long fingers untied the ribbon keeping it secured. She pulled out a shiny, golden coin and rubbed her thumb over it with a pleased smirk.

"If you’re done…" Tharen narrowed his eyes.

Satisfied, Merath finally spoke: "It is not much. Emarelia loves tokeep me in the dark. But nearly two decades ago, I was taken from one of our homes in Ignis. Bound and gagged, I had no way to tell who had captured me." She was not in the tavern with them, but some other time. "It was the male who called himself the Tenebrae; though, I didn’t know it at the time. He held me captive and used me to bargain with Emarelia. I told her not to listen to him, but she did it anyway. He took us to the palace in Luna. I remember the palace nursery, a babe swaddled in a blanket—a newborn, at that. He demanded Emarelia to glamor the babe and hide her true lineage, or else he would kill me. He wanted the babe to look as though she were a Solis fae, and so her white hair became gold, and her eyes the same…"

Her words lingered.

"The palace?" Graves questioned.

Merath was pulled from her stupor. "That is where the babe was born. He did not want to travel with her so young, afraid for her health. That is why he brought us to the palace in Luna."

The magic in Tharen’s hands faltered, then died. "What do you mean,where she was born?"

Graves realized it just before she spoke.

"You don’t know?" Surprise laced her tone.

"Know what?" Tharen stormed forward, holding up a fist.

Merath was not cowed. "Back up, or I will not say another word."

The mage was too shocked to call forth his magic, so Graves intervened: "You mean…"

He held her fire-tinged brown eyes.

"Yes," Merath said simply. "I thought you knew." She looked between the two of them with shock. "The Princess of Solis is the Princess of Luna."

The raven flew through the night sky, feathered wings carrying him away from Medius.

Somewhere on the ground, the Prima galloped on his steed, leading Graves’s horse behind him with an attached lead.

He was too desperate to return to Serpentis. To see her. To compare the image he had in memory to the truth that rang throughout his mind like the call of a temple bell.

Desolate trails in the countryside gave way to small villages, and those gave way to bustling towns and, finally, the rain-soaked cobblestones of Serpentis.

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