She saw herself kneeling in the mud outside the city of Karlaine, pressing her glowing hands into the terrible wound on Remy’s stomach—
A sucking swoop of sound, then silence. Darkness.
“Ah.” A little sigh. Smooth words stretched around a smile. “There you are.”
She turned in her bed at Willow, in that little room with the slanted ceiling, rain tapping its cold fingers against the windows. Sitting in the corner, in a chair draped with Simon’s clothes, was a man in black, white fingers steepled at his lips.
His smile widened when her eyes alighted upon him, and the sight of him sitting there, content in his amusement, was such a flawless portrait, so startlingly beautiful, that Eliana found herself weeping anew.
“Welcome home, Your Highness,” he said to her, and then rose, the shadows of the room converging on him, shaping the clean black lines of his cloak, his coat, his hair—
• • •
Eliana awoke as the ship shuddered, then stilled.
The endless rocking was no more, and outside the windows of her blue room there was sunlight, a broad pink sky, a pair of gliding white gulls.
She sat up, her shaking limbs slick with sweat. Bedsheets ruined, eyes burning, cheeks raw and wet.
When the door opened, Admiral Ravikant strode into the room. Eliana’s three attendants flanked him, opulent fabrics draped over their arms.
“We’re here,” she croaked. She had not used her voice in days, perhaps weeks. “Aren’t we?”
The admiral’s smile was jubilant, the ghost of her father’s face alight with an expression of frenzied joy she had never seen him wear.
“Get dressed,” he commanded. “He is waiting for you.”
3
Audric
“Fear not, Celdaria: The traitor Audric Courverie no longer sits on Katell’s sacred throne. The murderous Kingsbane has fled in fear. At last, the mysterious attacks plaguing the eastern borders, leaving our citizens pale and disfigured in their homes, will end. At last, we will find justice for what we have lost. At last, the House of Sauvillier will bring Celdaria’s enemies to their knees. Look to the capital and rejoice, for though the crown was weak, it is now strong once more. All hail His Majesty Merovec Sauvillier, the True King of Celdaria!”
—A royal decree issued upon Merovec Sauvillier’s assumption of the Celdarian throne, November 8, Year 999 of the Second Age
Audric would have flown for days, if Ludivine had let him.
In the sky, with only the low clouds and Ludivine and Atheria for company, he was almost able to forget everything that had happened. He existed in a soft gray world, even when the sunlight hit him full on, so brilliant and hot that beads of sweat rolled down his brow and back and pasted his clothes to his skin.
His clothes—trousers of the finest wool, boots polished to a faultless shine, a tunic of emerald silk, an embroidered coat of white and gold that hugged his trim torso.
The clothes he had worn to his wedding only days earlier.
“Hush,” Ludivine told him the first time memories of that night managed to penetrate the numb fog that had fallen over him. She rode behind him on Atheria, arms wrapped around his waist, cheek pressed against his back. “There’s no sense in thinking of that now. Not until we’re safe.”
Safe. He laughed, but only a little. He hadn’t the energy for more than that, and certainly not enough to talk to her, even if he’d wanted to.
And he didn’t want to.
He spoke to Ludivine only once, after she convinced him to stop in a small wood near the southern shores of Celdaria. They had to fly carefully, and only at night. Audric had allowed Ludivine to dictate the terms of their travel, too weary and heartsick to protest. It was soothing to be directed and carried. Directed by an angel, carried by a godsbeast.
Again, he laughed. Each time he did, Ludivine’s concern butted gently against him like that of a fussing mother. Several times, he considered turning around, shoving her off Atheria, and watching her plunge through the clouds to the ground. The only thing that stopped him was the hope that she might be useful in finding Rielle and convincing her to come home.
A callous, selfish thought, perhaps. He hoped Ludivine could sense it. He hoped it sat as heavily on her heart as his last memories of Rielle sat on his. He hoped it suffocated her.
Atheria alighted soundlessly in a grove of oaks and shook out her wings. Audric felt her great black eyes watching him as he