its wards had once been just as impressive. As old as the runewall in Penryth and gifted by an Asgardian King, the powerful shield had kept out even the most cunning intruders—until it cracked and then faded into history years ago.
A mass exodus of the city had followed.
“It must have flared back to life after the Curse was broken,” Haven said as she unbuttoned the top of her blouse, which was already sodden with perspiration. “I should have guessed.”
Even from here, she could feel the shield’s defensive magick prickling the moist air. And Goddess knew it was humid. She’d forgotten it was the middle of summer in the mortal continents, the southern tip a cauldron of wet, balmy heat.
She almost envied Surai and Delphine as they roamed the skies above, catching the sea breeze. They were assessing the city and surrounding territories in search of potential entry points—as well as traps.
“Am I the only one who thought coming here unannounced was a bad idea?” Xandrian asked, picking an invisible speck from the sleek silver vest he wore. “There is a decorum to these things, after all.”
“You thought coming here period was a bad idea, Sun Lord,” Surai called as she appeared from the nearest ash trees. “But we’re here now so stop pouting like a mortal and deal with it.”
It was times like these that Haven wondered if her friends remembered she and Bell were mortal.
The hard planes of Xandrian’s face schooled into an aggrieved scowl. “I am. Who do you think got us here?”
Behind him, the portal he and Bell had opened sparkled softly between two large boulders, rimmed by pale green fire.
Haven frowned. “Should we do something to hide that?”
Bell’s face took on a scholarly expression that meant he was about to teach her something. “The spells woven into the portal’s makeup are incredibly complex. We included everything from longevity runes to masking runes.”
“Explain it to me like I know nothing about portal creation.”
A proud grin revealed his perfectly straight white teeth. “This particular artery between Shadoria and Veserack will last for weeks, possibly months, and it can only be seen by its original travelers: us.”
“At most,” Xandrian added, “anyone passing by would mistake it for a mirage of heat.”
“An entirely believable occurrence,” Stolas murmured, obviously loving the tropical temperatures as much as Haven.
“How astute,” Xandrian muttered. “Perhaps now you can find a way inside those walls. Unless,” his stare settled on Surai, “you discovered something useful, raven-shifter?”
Haven’s stomach dropped a little as Surai gave a subtle shake of her head. “Nothing. The city and port are remarkably secure. This new king must have put all his resources toward defenses first.”
Her voice held a note of respect that Haven was beginning to share. Most kings would have diverted their attention toward flashier improvements meant to show their wealth and power.
“No sign of hidden reinforcements or traps?” Stolas asked.
Surai again shook her head. “Delphine is still checking a few areas, but overall, it looks safe.”
What are you playing at, King? Haven wondered as they all turned toward Luthaire. The port-city formed a crescent around a large man-made harbor. Haven faintly recalled visiting with Bell and the court years ago right before the city fell. Despite trade between the Solis and mortals being all but dried up, there were nearly thirty ships in the sparkling topaz harbor.
Once impressive sandstone buildings lined the ivory coast, their crumbling architecture hidden beneath scaffolding and ladders. Pale smoke drifted from the red-roofed houses as servants prepared for the evening meal.
During the Curse’s reign, the city had been abandoned as factions broke off into clans and citizens fled to the mountains to hide. Without the masonry guild’s constant upkeep and the wards to buffer the sea’s destructive embrace, the great city of Luthaire had fallen into natural disrepair.
Now that the wards were working again and the harbor was filled with white-sailed warships and trading vessels, the citizens had returned and begun rebuilding.
Cradled by walls of the vast city and the calm bay, the sea-palace rose from the city’s center, a monolith of sandy-white stone parapets and towers bleached by salty air and the sun. Like a beast washed up on shore, it extended out over the water on a complex system of stilts.
When the gate at the mouth of the harbor was closed during high tide, the palace and city was accessible by ships and smaller boats.
But when they were opened, the water drained, leaving the entire city completely out of reach to would be