Page 37 of A Reign of Roses
“The capital. Solaris.”
My gaze slid to Briar, and I handed her the ancient book. The immortal witch’s expression had turned grave. She’d been the one to tell me of the White Crow. She knew what my return—what going to Lumera—meant.
Mari frowned. At Briar. At me. “Well, I just told you—I can’t do basic magic. Not even an invisibility spell, let alone opening aportal between realms.”
“If you need aid there,” Briar said, putting the grimoire downand tying her robe more tightly, “the Antler coven serves the rebel king, Hart Renwick. They travel through the Dreaded Vale, never in one spot for too long lest they be found by your father’s army.”
I nodded my thanks. She finally understood why I’d come.
“Who’s Hart Renwick?” Mari asked.
“A Fae leading a revolution against my father,” I said. “He’s spent the last few years building up quite the army, and now apparently he has a coven fighting for him, too.”
I’d never met the kid, but my spies spoke highly of the powerful half-Fae who had, over time, amassed an army of dissenters and had taken to calling himself the rebel king. He and his army stole through the realm, marauding lighte outposts, freeing fringe and border cities from Lazarus’s reign, and inciting small yet formidable acts of revolt across the realm. The sheer feat of evading capture the last few years was impressive in its own right.
“What are you going to do there?” Mari asked, voice small. She was bright. She had an inkling.
“I’m going to avenge Arwen.”
Mari’s eyes cast down to her hands.
“You were right,” I said to her, and only her. “It’s my fault she died.”
When her eyes found mine, they were swimming with sorrow. “Do you regret it?”
Whether Mari meant Hemlock Isle, or bringing Arwen to Shadowhold in the first place, or anything that happened in between, I still said, “Yes. Everything. I regret giving her hope. Having it myself…Thinking somehow we had a future.”
Foolish. All of it.
Outside beyond the small, rickety balcony, the cool evening hadbecome a starless night of pure pitch. I sucked in a breath that did nothing to quell the sorrow in my gut.
“Goodbye, Mari,” I said.
Briar closed her eyes and began to chant the words I’d heard her utter only a handful of times. The sheets on the bed fluttered, the balcony curtains rolling on an earthy wind.
I braced myself for the split in time and space…but no such thing occurred.
“Briar?”
“Quiet,” she shushed. “It’s not coming readily. The realm is growing more untethered. I don’t…I can’t…”
The walls of the miniature library shook, molding cracking and beams groaning overhead. Mari and I exchanged one panicked look before the enchanted wind halted and Briar’s eyes flew open.
“I can’t do it alone, Kane.”
My heartbeat had started to pound in my ears. “What do you mean? You’re the—”
“I know what I am,” she sniped, more shrill than I’d ever heard her.
Both of our eyes fell to Mari.
“No way,” she said, scooting back on the bed, curls falling behind her shoulder. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“We’re of the same coven,” Briar said. “It’s the only way.”
“I have a lot of faith in you,” I added.
“That faith is tragically misplaced,” she said, chewing her lip. “Arwen would be so disappointed in me now.”
