Five Dark Fates (Three Dark Crowns #4) - Kendare Blake Page 0,112
out of his sleeve and sunk into Billy’s side so fast, he even impresses himself. Billy’s mouth drops open to form a small surprised O.
“I am sorry, Chatworth,” he says as he lets go of the handle, leaving it stuck. “But I have to see her.”
He turns and dashes through the fighting, leaving the mainlander to fall to the ground. He hopes he will not take it personally. He does not see how he could when the blade was not even poisoned.
It is not hard to find Arsinoe. She stands out from the rest in her black clothes and silver armor, and the furious scars slashed across her face. She is on horseback in the middle of a group of soldiers who are apparently there to do all of the fighting for her. He cannot tell if they are trying to cut her a path through the queensguard or simply keep her safe, and Arsinoe does not seem to care. All of her focus is downfield on Katharine.
Across the field, the riders around Katharine push close. They form a steering wall and take her horse by the reins, pulling on his bit so that his neck must twist nearly to his shoulder. In moments, they have her, and turn back for the Volroy just in time to evade the mist, creeping across the battlefield from east to west.
INDRID DOWN
High Priestess Luca hears the cries of the battle when it begins. The stomping and clashing, constant as a hum. Through her high window in Indrid Down Temple, she catches glimpses of circling hawks and falcons: familiars fighting alongside their naturalists.
Outside her door, her guards have fled to linger on the lower floors and wait for news, or perhaps to abandon their post completely. She does not care. One way or the other, the battle will be decided. A queen will take the throne, or the dead queens will keep it. And Luca’s time within that conflict is over.
She pours herself a cup of tea, for it is still cold on this upper floor, and nearly spills it when the entire temple shakes to its foundation. An elemental is what comes immediately to mind. An earth-shaker. But not even Mirabella could have produced that kind of shock from the distance of the battlefield.
When she hears the hurried footsteps approaching, she turns, thinking it a guard coming with news. Instead, Bree and Elizabeth fly through her door.
“Luca, are you all right?” Bree asks. “What was that?”
“You would know better than I would.”
“Whatever it was, it nearly knocked me down the stairs.” Elizabeth rushes to the High Priestess and throws her arms around her. Her plucky little woodpecker flies right into Luca’s hood.
“He has returned,” Luca says, and squirms as Pepper roots around the nape of her neck.
“Pepper, get out of there!” Elizabeth calls the bird back into her sleeve; he emerges a moment later atop her head. “Yes, he’s returned.”
“And he delivered his message?”
Elizabeth looks to Bree; they nod.
“But there was no return message?”
Bree shakes her head, and Luca sighs. “Well,” Luca says. “I suppose Arsinoe means to deliver it in person.”
Perhaps not wanting to think about what that message might be, Bree moves through the room and starts stuffing Luca’s belongings into a sack.
“What are you doing?”
“What we should have done long before this. We are getting you out of here.”
“No. You girls cannot risk yourselves for me. If Queen Katharine wins the day, she will know who did this.”
Bree’s expression is all elemental fire.
“We know the risks. We are not children anymore.”
“And if anyone asks, we’ll say we took you out of the city for your safety,” Elizabeth adds. She helps Bree with the packing, filling another sack with jewels, clothes, and trinkets. Luca gathers up her personal journal. Whatever else remains, she must trust that the priestesses of the temple will preserve it for her.
“Talk in the Volroy grows wild,” says Bree. “I half expect that Lucian will order one of the maids to stab him through the heart rather than face capture by the enemy.”
They shoulder the sacks, and each takes one of Luca’s elbows. But she hardly needs the assistance. Her legs suddenly feel years younger.
“I would not worry about Lucian,” she says, and chuckles. “Poisoners have a flair for the dramatic, but few Arrons are brave enough for it. Natalia was the only one of them worth her salt.”
“You sound like you miss her,” Elizabeth says.
“I do miss her. My old adversary. If she had not been