any suspected outlaw lightcasters without asking too many questions.
“Renk probably never dreamed Eros would bother checking up on them,” she muttered.
“That man has a dangerously curious mind. Since then, he’s been covertly recording the fates of the lightcasters sent from other kingdoms.”
“You must have used every ounce of charm you possess to pry all of that out of him.”
“I can be incredibly charming, when necessary.” His smile was positively wicked. “Do you doubt me?”
Goddess save her . . .
Willing her heart to stabilize, she said, “And? What did you learn?”
His voice quieted. “It’s as if they vanished.”
Another shiver engulfed her as she suddenly understood, although she wished she didn’t. “I know what he’s doing. He’s draining their magick for himself the same way he tried to take Bell’s.”
Stolas’s nostrils flared with barely suppressed anger. To those with magick, the act of stealing it—which was quite different than the temporary magick-letting he practiced—was blasphemous, beyond depraved. “Eros did not outright say as much, but I believe those are his suspicions, just as I believe Eros may now be harboring forbidden lightcasters. Soon after Renk passed that law, he gathered a council of the lords from surrounding territories and kingdoms and had another one passed. It is now a mortal offense for a kingdom to hide anyone with magick.”
“That’s why he wants the alliance.” It wasn’t a question. Exhaling, she leaned against the railing as a boulder of ice swelled in her gut. “If Renk truly is taking their magick for his own, it’s only a matter of time before Renk is the most powerful mortal in Eritreyia. He’ll be free to take whatever he wants, from whomever he wants. Eros is hiding them not from the goodness of his heart, but a matter of survival . . .”
She inhaled sharply as the ramifications of that became clear.
“Yes, that’s my thinking.”
“Then why keep this from us?” She couldn’t help but feel they were still missing something. “If anything, knowing would make us more desperate to form an alliance.”
His smile said that he was pleased she noticed. “I would have kept him out longer to learn the last piece to the puzzle, but I assumed if he missed dinner, Neri would publicly eviscerate him.”
“She might yet,” Haven murmured, remembering Neri’s furious glare as her husband returned. “But before you dragged him to the . . . after-hours establishment, she was genuinely happy he was out enjoying himself. I think—I think it’s been a long time since Eros has had a friend.”
Stolas’s ashen brows gathered as he looked out toward the bay. “I must admit, I like him much more than I thought I would. He’s clever enough that when he sobers fully, he will put together my intentions, and then any friendship between us will be impossible. But I don’t regret it.”
His profile was to her, the last bit of light from the setting sun reflecting off the angular slopes of his cheekbones and highlighting the prominent sweep of his lashes. A light breeze ruffled his feathers.
She was about to speak, if only to break the sudden stretch of silence, when he turned back to her. “I will never regret what I do—or the sacrifices I make—for you, Beastie. Never.”
It was the way he said it, or perhaps the way he looked at her, or maybe both that had her stomach dipping and her heart flip-flopping in her chest.
They both turned suddenly as footsteps sounded on the other side of the door. And when the king’s attendant peeked his head beneath the tapestry of honeysuckle, Haven had managed to create space between her and Stolas.
After a quick bow—and a few terrified glances at Stolas—the attendant informed them that it was time.
As they left the privacy of the balcony and wound their way through the corridors toward the king, heralded by a gathering crowd of courtiers and servants, thoughts of Stolas or the way he had looked at her faded. Replaced by the rhythmic hammering of her heart and an ever-growing resolve.
However desperately Eros wanted this alliance, it was still a huge risk. One he would never take without validation that she was, in fact, the Goddess-Born.
Which meant passing this test using whatever means necessary.
24
Whatever Haven had been expecting—a riddle, a magickal contest of sorts, a raw display of her power—none of it prepared her for what Eros actually had planned. It had taken them nearly an hour to trudge their way along the sandy coast, trailing a wide estuary that skirted the city