Five Dark Fates (Three Dark Crowns #4) - Kendare Blake Page 0,32

make Mirabella sick to her stomach.

“Queen Illiann,” Katharine says.

“You know her.”

“Of course. I would be a foolish queen indeed if the mist rose and I did not at least look into the history of its creator. I ordered Genevieve to research Queen Illiann and the mist as soon as it began to rise unbidden. Arsinoe’s dreams—what did they tell her? What does she know?”

“That is what we returned to find out,” Mirabella replies. “But if she has discovered anything, she did not tell me. And perhaps that is for the best. For if she had, I would have to tell you.”

Katharine chuckles. “So you would.” She points out the window at a pretty town house of red brick, where Bree and Elizabeth stay. “It is odd, is it not? The mist rises and Arsinoe dreams of its creator. Dreams that send you home. Mirabella Mistbane, the only one on the island who is strong enough to banish it.”

“Mirabella Mistbane?”

“It is what I am calling you. Mirabella Mistbane and the Undead Queen. We are legends already. But it is strange. I feel the working of something larger, moving us about.”

“Perhaps bringing us together. To fight.”

“Or to die. But I am not alone in this, am I? You do feel it?”

“I do,” Mirabella admits. “The moment I stepped back onto the island I felt the hand of the Goddess casting about me like a net. I do not know why, yet. But I intend to find out.”

Katharine inhales deeply. “I am giving you more freedom to move about the capital. So long as you remain hidden from public view and in disguise until we announce our allegiance.”

“Thank you, Katharine.” She bows her head respectfully, and to hide her smile. If she is free to move, she is free to try and solve Madrigal’s puzzle.

“Do not thank me yet. When we meet Arsinoe and Juillenne Milone in battle, I will have to kill them. And Billy, whom you are so fond of. He may not have murdered Natalia, but he has committed his own crimes. He is a rebel now. And he backs the wrong queen.”

Katharine puts her glove back on and leans forward to look out the window. “We are here.”

“Where?” Mirabella asks as the carriage slows to a halt. The door opens, and she follows Katharine outside. The city lies behind them now, and before them, Bardon Harbor, stretched as far as the eye can see. “We are on the northern cliffs.”

“Very good. Now come!” She reaches for Mirabella’s hand. Mirabella flinches, and Katharine’s expression falters. For just a moment, her large eyes are the eyes of the little girl Mirabella once knew.

“I thought you would like it. I know you have places like this in Rolanth.”

Mirabella thinks of the dark basalt cliffs of Shannon’s Blackway. This place is a little like that, a similar cut to the rock. Not white like the cliffs of Sunpool but pale and brown like sand. “Yes, Bree and I used to race across them.”

“Then what is the matter?” Katharine holds her hand out again, and Mirabella steels herself and takes it.

Katharine leads her closer to the edge, so close that they can lean over and look upon the beach and see the waves striking the rocks. “According to Genevieve, these very cliffs are where the mist was created. This is where the Blue Queen cast her spell and called it to us, and all the years since, it has preserved our way of life. Protected us from the outside world.” Katharine snorts. “Well, until recently.”

Mirabella stares at the ground where they stand. Did Queen Illiann once stand in the same place? Queen Illiann, the Blue Queen, who Mirabella feels like she almost knows, thanks to Arsinoe’s account of her dreams as Daphne, Illiann’s lost sister.

“Look,” Katharine says, and points out over the water, where the mist has risen to swirl angrily, darting closer as if it would crash against the sides of the cliffs.

“What does it mean?” Mirabella asks, unsure whether she is asking Katharine or Arsinoe or even Illiann, so long ago.

“I think it means it does not like you standing here. I think it means it is afraid.” Together they watch the mist recede. “I used to be so jealous of you. Jealous of everything you are. Maybe I am jealous still, that you remember what we used to be.”

“Arsinoe started to remember. Maybe you will as well now that we are together.”

Katharine looks down, perhaps regretfully.

“I am not like you,” she

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