Thom straightens in his chair. “That makes the most sense. It gives us plausible deniability.”
The thought of Grace alone in this castle leaves a hollow pit in my chest.
“The other part of what we talked about was if she learns the ritual, and it doesn’t involve sacrificing herself, perhaps we should take the relics before Niethal can get his hands on them.”
No one responds at first, though they appear thoughtful.
“And if we get the relics, what then?” Corren asks.
“We either hide them or destroy them.” Saying it aloud sounds even more improbable than it did in my head.
Mikal stands and comes to lean on the back of Thom’s chair. “How would we even destroy an ancient object? I don’t think that kind of information is just left lying around.”
A thought crosses my mind. “Mikal, Thom, remember Atarric from the library?”
Thom’s green eyes brighten. “Yes, he had foresight. Do you think he’d help us, though? He works in Niethal’s castle.”
“Yes, but he pointed us toward the Ossano. Why tell us about creatures Niethal was hiding from the other kings? I’m not sure where Atarric’s loyalties lie, but it wouldn’t hurt to feel him out.”
Thom steeples his fingers in front of his mouth. “It’s a place to start. He may know something about the ritual as well.”
My mind eases as our plan forms. And knowing my brothers are with me to help get Grace out of the castle makes me grateful for them all over again. They’re risking their lives to help me save hers.
“All right, Thom, Mikal, since you came to the library before, come with me again.”
Corren frowns. “So, what, Mikal and I are to wait here?”
“No, I need you two to figure out the guard’s rotation on Grace’s room. We’ll need to know if there are any gaps in coverage. I don’t think she’d be too keen on going out the balcony.”
Although maybe…
A knock at the door has the five of us grabbing our knives.
I crack the door, my dagger pressed flat against my back, but relax when only a servant is on the other side. “Prince Isiah, His Majesty has requested all visiting courts come to the throne room by eleven this morning.”
I nod once before closing the door and sheathing my knife. “Looks like the library will have to wait until after the meeting. We need to get ready for court. It’s, what, ten now?”
Mikal groans. “Damn scratchy tunics. You’d think with their wealth, the kings would have less itchy clothing.”
“Yes, Mikal, we know. Meet back here in time for court,” I say. “Niethal is calling for a vote on the invasion of the human realm, though we know how it will go.”
They leave my room, and with nothing else to do until the meeting, I lie on the bed and close my eyes, but when sleep comes, I’m swallowed by troubled dreams.
Darkness swirls, full of claws, teeth, and snarls. Howls fill my mind, and a pair of red glowing eyes float disembodied and unblinking, though the intelligence behind them is clear.
A gravelly voice says the same phrase over and over:“Hers is ours; we serve the blood.”
A cold sweat clings to me as I shoot upright in bed and grab my shoulder. The crescent scars throb in time with my heartbeat, and shadows creep along my arms, swirling between each finger as if sensing something is wrong. As they slither back inside, a faint scraping burns across my palms. I flip them over but find nothing there.
How long was I asleep?
Jumping up, I head to the washroom and splash cool water on my face, hoping to rinse away the residual anxiety. When I catch my reflection in the mirror, I flinch—my eyes swirl with black, and barely any green is visible.
What in the world?
I dress in my tunic and pants, and as I’m strapping my sword belt on, there’s a quiet rapid knock at the door.
When I open it, I’m surprised to find Grace on the other side without a guard. Unease stirs in my gut; something is wrong.