Five Dark Fates (Three Dark Crowns #4) - Kendare Blake Page 0,98

heard. Nor what you have seen. Something has taken hold of her that only you can remedy. We three queens have been steered here by the Goddess for a reason. Me to face down the mist. Katharine to be the vessel. And you to banish them with low magic. I am sorry I left, but please come. Your sisters have need of you. Both of your sisters. With love, M

Arsinoe sits quietly for a moment. Then she crumples the parchment and throws it into the fire.

The morning they are to depart—the rebel army to Indrid Down and Arsinoe to the mountain—Arsinoe and Billy accompany Luke to be fitted for his armor. It is merely a helmet and breastplate. The rebellion has not had time to outfit its fighters in more. But Luke is excited nonetheless. He stands with his arms out and turns back and forth for them as Hank the rooster pecks at the metal to test its toughness.

Luke should be behind the counter at the bookshop. He should be setting his table with biscuits and cakes or sewing handsome panels of embroidery into a gown. Luke is a creator of things, not a destroyer, and it is hard for Arsinoe to smile and nod as he shows her his crossbow and pike.

“It’s a pity you can’t bring Braddock along,” Billy says, watching Hank kick his spurs into Luke’s helmet. “What tales they would tell of the battle afterward, of Queen Arsinoe riding into war on her great brown bear. We could have had him some armor made.”

“They’ll tell those tales anyway,” Arsinoe says. “Half of every legend is made-up nonsense. They’ll talk about the two of you as well—running into the fray with a pair of armored chickens.”

Luke’s eyes widen. “Harriet would look beautiful in armor! But she’s no familiar. Even Hank, who is as fierce as they come, must stay back from the fighting.” He looks at the rooster, who cocks his head defiantly. “Only the dogs and the flying birds will be safe. The larger familiars. Like Camden.”

“No one will be safe,” Billy whispers, but Luke does not seem to hear.

“Speaking of familiars, or false familiars, I’d better go and find mine. I’m taking him to the mountain with me before depositing him back at the Black Cottage.”

In the disarray of travel with an army, in the chaos of battle, she and Luke might never see each other again. Good Luke, who has always believed in her, and who cries at the drop of a hat. But this time it is her eyes that are misting over.

“I’ll find you before we march,” she promises, and he shakes her hand.

As she and Billy leave the city in search of her bear, the rebels have started to line up, and the square is packed tight with rows and rows of saddled horses. Every street that leads from it is packed as well, with fighters waiting for the order to go. They sit on barrels or on their own packs of supplies, each one at least as afraid as they are determined.

Arsinoe runs her fingers along Billy’s wrist to see if he will wince. “How are your injuries? Do I need to change the bandages?”

“No. I don’t know what you put in that ointment, but—”

“Magic,” she teases. “A little of my blood.”

“Arsinoe.” He half smiles even as he makes a squeamish face.

“You shouldn’t go,” she says finally. “You’re no fighter. You should stay behind the lines and direct the battle. Or find a ship and get out of here altogether.”

“I’ve been training with the army. And I’m a fair shot with a bow, you know. Archery. My father insisted.”

“Keep. To. The. Back.”

“I’m a fast learner. I’m just as good now as half of these lads.”

“But not near as good as these ladies,” Arsinoe says, and swipes him on the back of the head. “Mainlander.”

“Arsinoe!”

They turn at the sound of Jules’s shout. She and Camden are coming up behind, the cougar’s tail swinging lazily back and forth. Billy gives Arsinoe’s hand a soft squeeze.

“Go with Jules,” he says. “She’ll be better at tracking down Braddock anyhow. Find me before we march.”

“All right,” she says, and he kisses her. Then he jogs back toward the city gate and tips an imaginary hat to Jules and Camden.

“Looking for a bear?” Jules asks. “I think I saw him earlier, searching the vines for early berries.”

“Far too early for those.”

“I might have ripened him some,” Jules says. She points, and they walk along the