when it’s under attack. You understand, right?”
Haven knew if she ordered Ember to go back to Shadoria with the others, she would. But even if the Morgani Queen wasn’t ready yet to accept Haven as an ally, there was no way Haven would leave the kingdom during a surprise assault.
Especially by the Shade Queen.
“I understand because I’m not leaving either,” Haven said. “I plan to stay and fight.”
Shouts drew her attention to Bell and Xandrian rushing toward them. They had to jump over gaping holes in the arena where smoke still drifted, the edges smoldering red hot.
Glass crunched beneath Bell’s boots as he neared. “We’re staying too.”
Xandrian looked less than pleased about that, but he nodded. “I’m just here to make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.”
Haven craned her neck to look at the sky. “Where’s Nasira?”
“Follow the fleeing Golemites above and you’ll find her,” Stolas said dryly.
Haven did and found the girl in the midst of the aerial battle. Lightning-blue streaks of magick slammed into the dark horde, dropping five at a time. The ones that didn’t drop immediately fell prey to her Shadow Dragon.
Distant screams drew their attention to the palace atop the cliffs in the distance. A swarm of gremwyrs and Golemites circled above, the Netherfire they carried like one giant flame from here.
“Oh, Goddess no,” Ember whispered.
“They’re destroying the palace,” Stolas murmured.
Ember’s voice trembled with rage as she said, “Why would they do that?”
Haven met Stolas’s stare. “They know about the painting. Somehow they know that’s why I’m here.”
“It’s possible, or they’re punishing the Morgani Queen for your presence. Making it known that anyone who gives the Shadeling’s daughter shelter will be punished. It would be a good way to isolate you and make you come to him.” But by Stolas’s hesitation, he suspected the former.
“Take me there.” When Stolas didn’t move she added, “Please.” She needed to save the painting before they destroyed it.
Grinning, Bell swaggered forward to reveal a bandolier glittering with daggers. “I knew there was a reason I brought these beauties, freshly sharpened and tipped in blight.”
Surai cut her lavender eyes at Bell. “Blight?”
“Yep.” Somehow Bell’s swagger grew, if that were possible. “That’s what I named the poison I’ve developed for the Noctis. Soon it will stoke fear in the heart of every single winged darkcaster”—Bell slid an apologetic look toward Stolas—“except you, Stolas. Obviously.”
Stolas arched a brow. “Obviously.”
Haven cleared the humor from her face as she shook her head. “No. Bell, I need you, Xandrian, and Nasira to go back to Shadoria and ensure the Godkiller is safe. Then you must go straight to the mortal lands to prepare King Eros for battle against Renk. The Shadeling is up to something. We don’t have time to get more allies before we take back Penryth.”
Bell’s jaw gritted, drawing attention to the dark stubble she’d never noticed before, but he nodded.
“If you can,” she continued, “reach out to Ashiviere for an alliance. Without a Solissian kingdom fighting alongside us, we’ll need every soldier we can muster.”
“I won’t let you down, Haven.”
She embraced him. “I know. The next time we see one another, I’ll be immortal and you’ll have a massive army waiting for me.”
She shifted her focus to Xandrian as Bell pulled away. “Let anything happen to him—anything at all—and I’ll hold you personally responsible.”
Xandrian flashed a dark grin. “Noted.” His focus shifted to Stolas. “Think you can handle this alone, Shade Lord?”
There was an undercurrent of warmth in Xandrian’s teasing tone, and Stolas’s response lacked its usual bite. “It will be easier now that I don’t have to worry about saving your ass, Sun Lord. Oh, and don’t underestimate the mortals. They’re much trickier than they appear.”
Xandrian gave a mock salute. “Always.”
Haven felt her lips tug into a smile. That was probably as close as Stolas and Xandrian would ever come to friendship.
As soon as Bell and Xandrian had safely crossed the arena, Surai changed into a raven and Ember fully shifted into a steel gray panther with white markings.
Stolas slipped behind Haven, his arm a steel band around her waist. “Ready?”
“Yes.”
Surai would lead them directly to the vaults inside the palace where the painting would be. The sky was clogged with oily black smoke as they rose over the ocean toward the cliffs. The winds high up blasted the heat from the fires all around them, the acrid air stinging her eyes and lungs. Fires smoldered all over the island, but the worst of it came from the palace.
Once a long,