“No! Please, I beg you.” Her husband rushed forward. A branch as thick as one of the pillars in the castle’s entrance hall wrapped around his wife’s chest, slowly lifting her off the ground as she struggled. Two more tendrils unfurled from that branch and whipped around the woman’s arms while another two branches grasped her feet and pulled until she was pinned to the wall, eye to eye with Irina, her arms and legs spread-eagled against the cold gray stone.
Slowly, the queen wrapped her palm around the woman’s neck. Lady Kiffen’s pulse beat frantically against Irina’s skin.
“If you want your wife released from her punishment, you must do one thing for me. After that, if you still wish it, I will release her and forgive her of her crime.”
“Anything, Your Highness.” His voice trembled.
The queen leaned close to Lady Kiffen and put her other hand on the branch that surrounded the woman’s chest. In one palm, she felt the thunder of Lady Kiffen’s pulse. In the other, the willing, compliant heart of the apple tree. Gathering her power, the queen whispered, “Tvor” and poured her intentions, her desires, into the word as the heat in her palms exploded into Lady Kiffen and the tree, wrapped around the heart of each, and then joined them as one.
The woman’s back arced, and the cords of her neck stood out. She opened her mouth to scream, but choked instead. Her cheeks bulged, her eyes grew wide with panic, and for one long moment, she didn’t breathe. But then, her jaw dropped open, wider than should be possible, and a perfectly formed apple slowly tumbled out of her mouth and into the queen’s hand.
Irina gave the apple to Lord Kiffen.
“Eat this,” Irina said. “And then if you want me to free your wife, I will. I swear it.”
Lord Kiffen stared at the apple, its glossy red skin glowing in the morning sunlight. He raised his eyes to his wife’s, but she was in the throes of pain again, her throat open in a silent scream as another luscious apple slowly emerged from her mouth and into the queen’s hand.
Quickly, he raised the fruit to his mouth and bit deep. His teeth pierced the skin, but instead of crisp, sweet apple, the center was fermented, and thick black rot oozed onto his tongue. He didn’t seem to notice. Instead, he chewed quickly, his eyes glazing over as he ate the apple, licking his fingers clean like a starving man afraid to leave a single bit of food behind.
Irina had two more apples in her hands, and Lady Kiffen was already stretching her jaw wide to produce a third, when Lord Kiffen finished. He stared at his hands as if he couldn’t understand where the apple had gone.
“Do you believe that traitors to your queen should be punished?” Irina asked him.
“Oh yes, my queen.” Black rot smeared his teeth and lips as he stared at Irina.
“Frederick!” Lady Kiffen’s voice was hoarse, and tears leaked from her eyes as she began choking on the next apple. Lord Kiffen never looked away from his queen.
“Do you have news of the girl’s whereabouts?” Irina asked.
Lord Kiffen shook his head. “I know only that some believe the mountain girl with the gyrfalcon could be the princess, and the boy who is with her could be the prince. They are sometimes on our lands with a man who acts like their father, and there are those in our village who have dedicated themselves to protecting their location in case the rumors are true.” He blinked as an idea occurred to him. “Your Highness, it pains me to confess that I have not questioned those traitors as I should have. I beg you to allow me to rectify that error.”
Irina’s smile stretched wide enough to hurt as she leaned closer to the man. “Oh, I think I’ll come along and question them myself.”
Another apple fell from Lady Kiffen’s mouth and smashed against the ground, spreading a circle of black rot that instantly destroyed every blade of grass it touched.
“And your wife?” Irina asked as she took Lord Kiffen’s arm. “Should I let her down and forgive her of her crimes against me?”
Lord Kiffen never even glanced at the woman pinned to wall. “Traitors must be punished, my queen.”
“Indeed.” Irina stepped away from the wall, Lord Kiffen by her side.
“Frederick?” The woman’s voice shook, but Lord Kiffen didn’t look back.
Irina looked at one of her guards. “I’m traveling to Lord Kiffen’s lands by the end of the day. Send for a coach and have my maid pack a trunk. And have someone gather several barrels of apples as she produces them. I’m going to need them.”
UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE
HarperCollins Publishers
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TEN
KOL AND HIS friends shifted out of their dragon forms in the Hinderlinde Forest just north of Ravenspire’s capital. After dressing in their finest travel garments and procuring horses from a livery at the edge of town, they entered the capital with Jyn riding point and Trugg bringing up the rear.
The streets wound neatly among well-kept homes with steeply gabled rooftops and brightly painted shutters. A cobblestoned road cut a wide swath through the center of the city. Carriages of polished wood were filled with ladies dressed in bright silks and fancy hats. Ravenspire men in silk cravats stood outside shops, smoking pipes and talking. A few nobles from the western kingdom of Akram, their white robes edged in scarlet rope, were scattered here and there, doing business with tapestry shops and fabric weavers. Occasionally Kol caught a glimpse of merchants with olive skin and dark hair driving wagons loaded with crates that all bore a likeness of the Súndraille flag. And over it all, the majestic spires of Queen Irina’s castle rose toward a sun-kissed sky.
The poverty and violence that Kol had seen in Tranke had yet to truly touch the capital. Kol was grateful. The Eldrians couldn’t afford to be the cause of a mob here.
“Ready?” Jyn asked as they reached a steep hill bisected by a road paved in white gray-flecked stones. At the top of the hill was the gate to the castle.
Kol felt sick to his stomach as his spine snapped into the rigid, academy-approved posture he’d spent so much of his last four years mocking. If Irina wouldn’t see him as an equal, wouldn’t listen to his request, or wouldn’t accept his terms, he would be out of options.
Eldr would be out of options.
He lifted his chin and assumed the formal royal expression that had always made Father seem so distant and difficult to understand.
Irina would listen. She would negotiate. She would use her magic to save Eldr.
Kol wasn’t leaving this castle until she did.
“Jyn, you do the talking. Announce me by my full title. Request a meeting with the queen on a matter of dire importance.” His voice, thank the skies, didn’t shake. His hands remained steady on the reins.
Years of pretending indifference to being called before the throne to face the consequences of his actions had finally come in handy.
No one spoke as their horses trudged up the steep hill that led from the city to the castle. Behind them, cathedral bells tolled the hour in deep, sonorous tones that echoed across the entire countryside.
“What in the skies above is that?” Jyn sounded horrified as she crested the hill.
Kol spurred his horse forward and then pulled it to a stop beside Jyn as he tried to understand what he was seeing.
A woman old enough to be Kol’s grandmother was pinned to the castle wall beside the gate by what looked like unnaturally long, limber branches growing out of a nearby apple tree. The branches were lashed around her wrists and ankles, holding her spread-eagled against the stone.
“She must have done something against Irina.” Jyn’s voice was taut.
The woman began to convulse, her mouth gaping wide as something large and round pushed its way up her throat.
“Oh, now that’s just not right.” Trugg looked away as a shiny red apple slowly worked its way out of the woman’s throat, rolled across her tongue, and fell from her lips to land in a pile of apples beneath her feet. “Skies above, I’m never
going to be able to eat another apple twist.”
Kol slowly tore his gaze away from the woman and found two guards standing on either side of the gate, their hard expressions daring the Eldrians to make a wrong move.
“Who approaches the queen’s castle?” the guard on the left, a woman with wide shoulders and green eyes, called out to them.
“King Kolvanismir Arsenyevnek, son of Ragvanisnar the Third, holder of the sky scepter and supreme ruler of Eldr requests an audience with Queen Irina of Ravenspire at the queen’s earliest convenience to discuss a matter of dire importance.” Jyn’s voice carried over the awful choking sound of yet another apple rising out of the woman’s throat, but still Kol flinched inwardly.
What kind of crime did this woman commit against her queen that she deserved a punishment so horrific?
“Greetings, my lord. Please come inside the gate while I alert the castle steward,” the guard said.
Moments later, a tall man with black hair, blue eyes, and a calm, inscrutable expression met them on the wide drive that led from the gate to the castle’s entrance. The man’s brow furrowed as he studied Kol for a moment. “King Kolvanismir?”
Jyn took a deep breath. “It is with deep regret that we inform Ravenspire of the untimely passing of King Ragvanisnar the Third, along with his wife, Queen Linneayaste, and firstborn son, Prince Ragvanisnar.”
The man nodded slowly. “My deepest condolences on such an unfathomable loss, King Kolvanismir. My name is Viktor. The queen is scheduled to leave for our northern lands shortly, but she can give you a few minutes.”
Moments later, Viktor led the Eldrians into a long rectangle of a room with candles lit in bronze sconces along the walls and a huge table surrounded by chairs in the center of the floor. Queen Irina sat in a high-backed chair at the far end of the table, her spine stiff enough to make Master Eiler proud and her pale hands pressed flat against the tabletop on either side of a sheet of parchment. There was an enormous black viper loosely coiled around her shoulders, his golden eyes staring at the Draconi.
Even with the creepy snake as a necklace, Irina was beautiful—the kind of beautiful that stole a boy’s words and made it hard to remember how to walk without tripping over his own two feet. Hair like sunshine, eyes like the midday sky, and pale skin that glowed against her delicate bones—it seemed impossible that someone so dainty and pretty could have used her magic to force an old woman to choke on apples all day long.
Irina smiled warmly, and Kol’s hearts kicked hard against his chest.
“Please come in, King Kolvanismir, and be seated at my side.” Her voice was soft and welcoming. “Your dignitaries may take any seat they like along the left side of the table. My official witnesses will be on the right.”
She gestured toward Viktor, who sat at her right hand with a quill, an inkpot, and a few more sheets of parchment. Two other men, both dressed in guards’ uniforms, sat down across from the Draconi as well.
Once everyone had taken a seat, Irina folded her hands on her blank sheet of parchment and turned to Kol, her blue eyes intent.
“I am deeply saddened to hear of the loss you recently suffered. I suffered a similar loss years ago. It was devastating.” Her gaze slipped from his as if looking at some faraway moment of her own. One warm hand reached out and covered his, and then her gaze snapped back to his. “But we are royalty. We cannot grieve as others grieve. We must move forward and take up the mantle of leadership for the good of our kingdoms, yes?”
He nodded and then realized that if he wanted to be treated like an equal, he had to act like one. Pulling his hand from hers, he said, “It is for the good of our kingdoms that I’ve come to you.”
She inclined her head as if waiting to hear more.
Kol’s posture matched Irina’s, and his voice was clear and strong as he said, “For the sake of time, I’ll be blunt. Ravenspire’s people are starving because of the blight that is plaguing your country. Your people, driven by starvation and desperation, are becoming violent toward one another other and toward you.”
Irina’s eyes narrowed.
He softened his tone. “I know you’ve done everything in your power to help them, but you cannot produce food where none exists.”
Trugg made a noise in the back of his throat, and suddenly Kol was sure everyone in the room was thinking of the woman lashed to the castle wall, gagging on apples as they rose from her gut and tumbled out of her mouth.
He hurried on. “You need resources to meet your people’s immediate need and to deal with the subsequent food shortages over the coming years as you rebuild your agriculture.”
“Is that what I need?” Irina’s voice was still quiet, but there was a note of power that hadn’t been there before, and Kol didn’t have to glance at his friends’ strained faces to remember that he was dealing with a mardushka.
“Eldr has need as well.” He looked Irina in the eye. “We are being invaded by an army of unnaturally strong ogres. We believe they were unleashed by the dark magic that has enslaved the kingdom of Vallé de Lumé to the south of us. The ogres are overcoming our armies because they have somehow managed to master use of that magic and are turning it against us. Without powerful magic of our own, Eldr will be overrun.”
“And so you propose a trade?” Irina asked.
“Yes.” And, skies above, please let her agree to it. “We will give you enough of Eldr’s treasure to purchase goods from Súndraille to feed your kingdom for the next ten years in exchange for you using your magic to flush the ogres out of Eldr and seal them back into Vallé de Lumé.”
Viktor made a small noise, but Irina didn’t even look at him. Instead, she said, “You are wrong about what Ravenspire needs.”
Kol frowned. “The blight, the starvation—it’s common knowledge. Your people—”
“My people have no idea what this kingdom needs. I do. If you want my help, you must meet my terms.”
“What are your terms?” Kol asked, desperately hoping it was something he could give.
“It’s simple. You must agree to hunt down a traitor and bring her to me. Once I have her, I will save your kingdom.”
Dread pooled in Kol’s stomach as he asked, “Who is the traitor?”
Irina’s smile sent a chill down Kol’s spine. “Princess Lorelai.”
A heavy silence fell in the wake of Irina’s words. Kol knew about Princess Lorelai. Even with his less-than-ambitious approach to his schoolwork, the story of the night the king of Ravenspire had died, along with the prince and princess, had stuck with him.
“I thought the Ravenspire heirs died the same night the king died,” he said.
Irina’s voice was hard. “As did I, but I have new information.”
“How am I supposed to find her?” He frowned. “You’re the most powerful mardushka to come out of Morcant for generations. If you can’t find her, what makes you think I can?”
Her smile disappeared. “The princess is a mardushka as well and is cloaking herself from me. She might be able to hide from magic, but she can’t hide from a predator who tracks his prey by scent.” Her gaze pinned him where he sat.
His mouth went dry. “People aren’t prey.”
Her lip curled. “The only people who aren’t prey are those smart enough and strong enough to become the predator.” She leaned toward him. She smelled of vanilla and apples. “You’re a king. You don’t have the luxury of turning away from what must be done. Not if you want to save your kingdom.”
She was right. Skies curse her, she was right, and Kol knew it.
“I attended a wild boar hunt hosted by your father years ago. I saw how fast the Draconi cornered their prey once they had the scent. It was magnificent.” She lowered her voice, as if confiding a secret. “I couldn’t understand then why Eldr hadn’t conquered every other kingdom in the land. Why you weren’t ruling the entire world with the terrible strength of your dragon selves. But then I learned about your dual hearts.”
She reached out and p
ressed her palm to his chest. His hearts leaped beneath her touch, and he jerked away from her. She smiled.
“Your dragon heart is fierce. Monstrous. It wants the unfettered freedom to rule the skies, to burn the land, and to subjugate everyone else to its whims. It’s the perfect predator, but your human heart tempers your dragon self with demands for honor, compassion, and justice. Your people have dealt with this duality by rigorously training your dragon heart to bow to your human heart, but deep within you are the instincts required to be the most terrifying predator in the land. I have no doubt you’ll quickly hunt down the princess and save your kingdom.”
A band of tension wrapped around Kol’s chest as he slowly got to his feet. “Draconi don’t hunt people.”
“Especially when that person is a mardushka.” Jyn stood as well, her expression furious. “We will not accept our king putting himself in such danger on your behalf.”
Irina rose to her feet, and though she was small, she seemed to fill the room with her presence. “He does this for Eldr, not for me. You came to me because you’re desperate.” Her tone was sharp. “You have no other options. Where else can you go for help defeating the ogres and their magic? Morcant?” Her delicate laugh was filled with scorn. “King Milek, fearing the true depth of power a mardushka can achieve with time and training, outlawed all but the most benign forms of magic decades ago. None of the mardushkas in his service will admit to being capable of stopping one ogre, much less an entire army. Those in Morcant who could help you are no friend to the king.”
“You’ve still not given us reason to believe that asking him to hunt down the princess, who is also a mardushka like yourself, is safe.” Trugg glared at the queen.
“The princess is a mere fledgling mardushka, and I will give him a means to protect himself from her magic,” Irina said as she bent to retrieve a wooden chest from the floor. Placing it on the table in front of her, she lifted the lid. There were two items inside the box—an oval mirror with golden serpents and brambles surrounding the glass with swirling gray clouds on its surface and a circular collar made of thistle and bone. Irina picked up the collar and laid it on the table next to Kol.