Page 135 of Curse of Darkness
Slowly, he lowers it. “Queen Maren has called an emergency meeting of the Seelie Alliance in Aska. Your mother claims Evernight launched an assault upon her castle and stole her crown. She demands it back upon pain of death. And she insists the Seelie Alliance judge the case.”
What?“That bitch!” I snatch the letter off him. “She attacked us first. She sent her fucking Deathguard into the streets and dropped a bramblethine in the dam above the city! Does she not think that everyone is aware that her armies have been massing at the border for weeks?”
“She hasn’t sent them across,” Thalia murmurs, dragging Grimm into her arms and rubbing his head. “If I know Adaia, she’ll claim she’s responding to a threat from us.”
“You wanted a chance to get inside the Tower of Dreams in Aska,” Thiago muses, offering me a hand to draw me to my feet. “You want your prophecy? Maren’s just opened the gates to her court.”
“And she’ll be watching every move we make,” I point out.
“Yes. Which means we can’t make that move. But I think I know someone who won’t be watched. Someone who pledged support provided we take all the risks.” His smile turns dangerous. “If Lucere wants your mother’s blade lifted from her throat, then it’s about time she took a damned risk herself.”
27
“Unhand me, you enormous lummox” comes a shrill voice.
“I was merely trying to assist you over the rocks.”
“Do Ilooklike I need assistance, you dirty, sweaty stable boy?”
“Do you really want me to answer that?” This time, the response is a growl.
Baylor stalks out of the shadows of the cavern, wearing the filthiest expression I’ve ever seen on him. His silvery-blond hair is drawn back in a half-knot, and tendrils of it fall over the tanned skin of his face. It’s the only hint of his identity. The rest of him is covered in a rough wool cloak that’s seen better days, a dirty white linen shirt and dark brown wool trousers. The hilt of his sword peeks through the cloak, revealing the snarling wolf head on the pommel, but apart from that, he might be any anonymous mercenary.
He gives me a long-suffering look that promises I’d better make this worth his while. We slipped through the Hallow an hour ago and sent Baylor ahead into Ravenspire with a private message for the queen. I’m not quite sure how he managed to slip inside her personal chambers unnoticed, but clearly, the altercation has roused Lucere’s hackles.
I’ve also never seen Baylor show such frustration before.
He’s a rock, his calm expression a shield wall of protection.
And he looks like he wants to haul Lucere over his shoulder and go dump her in an icy river somewhere.
“Long trip?” Thiago mutters, trying to hide his amusement behind a fake cough.
“Felt like days,” Baylor replies stoically.
Someone curses as they trip over a rock. Light spills through a hole far above us, but it’s difficult to see the path toward this spot, unless you have preternatural eyesight like Baylor does.
“Stubborn as a mule,” Baylor grumbles, turning to offer the queen his arm—which she waves away.
“Lucere?” I lower the hood of my black cloak.
The Queen of Ravenal responds in kind, drawing the soft fur-lined cloak back from her face, revealing the silken shine of her raven-dark hair and the paleness of her features as she takes her place beside Baylor. The spear of light highlights the tips of her eyelashes, staining them silver, and the scarlet of her cloak sets off her features so prettily, I’m fairly certain her outfit was chosen with great care.
Say what she will about no longer pining for my husband, I’m not entirely certain I believe her.
“It seems the rumors of your death were greatly exaggerated,” Lucere says to Thiago before her attention shifts to me. “Unless the information I offered provided some… recourse.”
Thiago shifts uneasily. “Evernight extends its thanks for the part you played in my return. You weren’t seen?”
Lucere settles a frosty expression upon Baylor. “We weren’t seen. This enormous monolithrolled me in a rugand threw me over his shoulder. I daresay even my brother’s ravens didn’t mark my absence.”
“A rug?” No wonder she looks like a hissing cat.
Baylor shrugs. “She was taking too long and protesting too much. We were going to be seen.”
Thiago pinches the bridge of his nose in a way I’m interpreting asshould have brought Finn instead. “Evernight extends its apologies.”
“Oh, it will,” Lucere promises. “Now the courtesies are done, to what does Ravenal owe the unexpected pleasure of being dragged to this slime-infested cavern?” Her dark eyes glitter. “It wouldn’t be a certain forthcoming meeting, would it? You’re not here to extend your sympathies upon the loss of my sister, Thiago, so please, let us not mince words. What do you want?”
