attackers. From land and water, at least.
Surai frowned at the palace. “Perhaps we enter from the harbor mouth? I didn’t check that far out.”
“The bay is guarded by a giant gate,” Bell answered, sliding a slender bronze instrument into a pearl-inlaid silver sheath at his waist. “It would be easier to slip past the few guarded entrances on land—although that’s not saying much.”
The device was an acrum, a tool that aided lightcasters in piercing the Realms of Other as they carved a path through the invisible planes. One end was pointed like a needle, the other tipped with a black radiant-cut sapphire surrounded by tourmaline.
Acrums were what lightcasters of old used to create the ancient portals that used to connect all the continents. She knew this because Bell had spent an entire evening telling her all about the rare tools, and how it had taken twenty lightcasters with acrums an entire year to create one of those ancient portals.
According to Surai, there were only a handful of acrum needles left in all the realm. Which probably explained Bell’s beaming grin and the extra flourish in his movements when he wielded it.
“Oh, wonderful,” Xandrian murmured. “Anyone fancy taking a mid-afternoon stroll through this charming city?”
The rankle of his long, straight nose highlighted his sarcasm, in case the disdain dripping from his every word wasn’t clear.
Stolas chuckled. “We could go to all that trouble, or we could simply bypass the formalities and arrive in the throne room.”
Xandrian’s light blue gaze slid to Stolas’s wings, which were spread casually so that the indigo feathers crowning the tips brushed the soft grass. “Asgardian spells are woven into every inch of that shield. Last I checked, wings can’t break through wards this complex.”
“No, but I can. Or did you forget I am the son of the last Seraphian Empress?”
“Who can forget when you remind everyone?” Xandrian murmured.
“Asgardians are cunning. Any ward walls they built for other kingdoms always contain a tiny signature by its maker, a little door in case the kingdom becomes an enemy of Asgard.” Stolas’s arrogant grin bordered on suicidal glee as he added, “I’ve already located that section, now it’s a matter of convincing the sentient ward that I am its master.”
“It’s that easy, is it?”
“It is when you’re me,” Stolas promised, his smug tone making her wonder if he was trying to rile Xandrian.
Xandrian clicked his tongue. “Even if that were true, is it a good idea to just show up inside this king’s home? Uninvited?”
“Technically we were invited. But if you would rather ask for permission first, be my guest.”
His dark gaze slid to Haven, and her chest swelled a little as she realized he was waiting for her input. She skipped her focus over her friends.
Each of her Chosen was willing to walk straight into a trap for her.
To die for her.
It had been decided that the others would stay in Shadoria in case Archeron’s promise of peace was a trick. But all of them would have come despite knowing the risks.
They knew Haven was hunted, that the bounty on her head made her a target. A shadow of horror fell over her as her visions clawed to life, the screams and terror so real—
No. Archeron is trying to use fear to control you. Do not let him.
Jaw clenched against the memory of Archeron’s depraved hallucinations, she exhaled through her nose as a cold finality came over her. “I’m tired of asking permission. If this king doesn’t like it, he can tell me himself.”
Surprised delight lit Stolas’s eyes, and then he turned his attention back to Xandrian. “Are you and your little needle up to the task?”
“Some needles are more powerful than others.”
Surai snorted before taking to the skies, where she would watch with Delphine for outside threats.
On the way here, Xandrian had let Bell thread the portals, an arduous process that required setting countless portals on every tiny outcropping of land they could find. Xandrian had been surprisingly patient as he gently corrected Bell’s technique. Repositioning his fingers on the acrum or pointing out runes to deal with the humidity, which apparently messed with a portal’s longevity.
Now there was no question who was creating the next portal. Xandrian winked, puffing out his chest as his sour mood shifted into cocky pride. “Watch and learn, Noctis.”
Shadeling Below, there wasn’t enough room in this realm for both their egos. As soon as Stolas tore a rift in the ward, Xandrian followed through on his arrogance with a portal that