Instead of crying, I lift my chin and ask, “What if we get to the island and the witches refuse?”
Mrath smirks. “Then you had better learn how to be persuasive, little ruby.”
I almost think she’s done, as she takes a long drink from her neglected goblet, but she sets it back on the dryad’s tray and says, “A word of advice—Stay as far away from Shvathemar as possible. My brother must not have any claim to you; if he sires a child, my own bid for the crown will become that much harder.”
She fixes Vann with a piercing stare. “And you, Lord Vann—you are not a king, but you have his ear. I was serious when I told your king that we should’ve killed Arion immediately after the war with the Giants. I will not be patient much longer, nor will I be so generous as to indulge other littlefavors.” Mrath sits back on her throne.
She exhales sharply, then makes a shooing motion. “If my brother has cursed you, he might figure out whereyou are if you linger longer. Leave now. I have matters to attend to, and you are using my people’s resources.”
“Wait,”Vann exclaims. “I need you to send a message for me to the king. Tell him where we go, that we are well.”
Mrath rolls her eyes. “I’m not a messenger.”
“Please,” Vann pleads.
She sighs. “No.” Then she snaps her fingers once, and the world around me goes dark.
Chapter 23
VANN
The cold morning air outside of the Sisterhood’s Enclave bites at my skin and the mist curls between the ancient trees.
“Yrelajd vol’chtu,”I grumble in enduar—Damn this mess.
I feel like a godsdamned fool. I’d been so focused on my theory that Daniel had hurt her that I failed to realize who the true villain was.
King Arion.
You clueless bastard.
Then I think of Teo.
Gods, I should have thought of some way to send a message back to him. Brought speaking stones, a fucking magical voice projector.Something.
I fear he will never forgive me.
Sucking in another breath, I sort through the packs Mrath had also haphazardly transported out of her enclave.
We will both need to make sure that our belongings are still intact. I open my mouth to tell Arlet, but looking up causes me to pause.
She stands there. Deflated. Her arms are crossed over her midsection.Her breath billows out from her nose, which has turned beryl red from the chill.
I straighten. The conversation with Mrath had gone as well as I could’ve hoped. She didn’t maim either of us, and we had a genuine direction.
But still, Arlet had come here with hopes of returning home sooner. That is delayed, and it must hurt.
I suck in a breath. Especially not her.
A few more moments stretch on, and she gazes at the trees, breathing slowly.
It is time to leave this place and let everything go. Instead, I listen as the silence between us is punctuated by the steady rhythm of the forest.
“Firelocks,” I start. “Are you upset?”
She glances up at me, face expressionless, and I wish I could stop the way that my mind memorizes the movement, cataloging it with a dozen others that help me to interpret and read her.
“I am fine,” she replies, though I see how her lips turn down after each word.