again.
“It’s definitely tearstone. The mine must not have been as played out as Lord Eichen claimed during the luncheon.”
“Either that, or Eichen is working with the Mortans,” Reiko suggested.
Surprise shot through me, and I opened my mouth to automatically defend my countryman, but Reiko stared me down.
“First rule of being a spy—anyone can betray you at any time. Even someone you think is a staunch ally.”
She was talking about Eichen, but another man’s face filled my mind—the same handsome face with the same dark amethyst eyes I’d seen in my vision. In some ways, Leonidas Morricone haunted me far more than any injuries I’d received in the Blauberg mine.
I shoved those memories away and considered Reiko’s point. “Eichen could be working with the Mortans, but it’s highly unlikely. He has plenty of power and money, and he’s never shown any interest in trying to wrest the throne away from my grandfather. Plus, one of Eichen’s sisters was killed by Mortan bandits a few years ago. He has no love for them.”
Reiko nodded, accepting my conclusion.
I rolled the tearstone shard back and forth in my fingers again. “We should follow the Mortans. They might have a camp set up in the woods. Maybe that’s where Milo is storing the stolen tearstone and the weapons he’s made with it.”
Reiko’s eyebrows shot up. “It could still be a trap. Us just happening to see two Mortans outside an old mine and one of them just happening to drop a piece of tearstone is highly suspicious.”
“I know, but it’s—”
“Worth the risk,” she finished.
I gave her a sour look. Reiko grinned back at me, as did her inner dragon, then jerked her head. “Let’s go, princess.”
Reiko headed toward the far side of the clearing. I nestled the tearstone shard in the side of my boot so that I wouldn’t lose it, then pictured Grimley in my mind.
We’ve found the Mortans. We might need you and Fern.
Grimley answered me almost immediately. We’re done hunting. We’ll be there soon.
Quietly, please. We don’t want to spook the Mortans.
You might like sneaking around, but I prefer a more direct approach.
Really? Is that what you told the Glitnir glass masters last week when you, Fern, and the other gargoyles were flying around doing barrel rolls and you accidentally smashed through the windows in Alvis’s workshop?
Glass shouldn’t be so bloody fragile, he grumbled.
I grinned, released my magic, and headed after Reiko to keep tracking our enemies.
* * *
Reiko and I crept through the woods. We didn’t speak, but Reiko clutched her sword a little more tightly, and her worry throbbed like a splinter embedded deep in my heart. I adjusted my grip on my dagger and tried to ignore her worry, along with my own.
Another faint trail ran through this section of the woods, although the dirt was so hard-packed that I couldn’t see any boot prints or tell how many people might have passed this way. Reiko and I stayed within sight of the trail, creeping from one tree to the next.
We walked for the better part of a mile before the trail led into another clearing that was even larger than the one in front of the old mine. Wide, flat rocks jutted out from the surrounding steep ridges like stone bleachers, making the whole area look like a rough, unfinished gladiator arena.
I didn’t see the two Mortans, although the trail led through the center of the grassy clearing before winding its way past the rocks and up the opposite ridge. The surrounding ridges were too steep to climb without a rope, so the Mortans still had to be following the trail.
“How close are we to the Mortan border?” Reiko asked.
I pointed to the opposite ridge, where a four-foot-tall gray stone obelisk had been driven into the ground beside the trail. I couldn’t see it from this distance, but I knew that the Ripley snarling gargoyle crest was carved into the arrow that topped the obelisk. “See that stone?”
Reiko squinted in that direction. “Is that a trail marker?”
“Yes. It’s also a warning that we are exactly one mile from Morta. The obelisks along the actual Mortan border are painted solid purple and have the Morricone royal crest carved into them, so that people know when they cross from one kingdom into the other.”
“We’re too close,” Reiko muttered. “Especially if this is a trap.”
Given my recent disastrous trip to Myrkvior, I would have been quite happy to never set foot in Morta ever again. But finding where Milo Morricone was