“What was that?” she asked the bird on her shoulder.
“Your invitation,” he answered.
“Where is my sister?” she asked him. “You told me I could save her. That this was the way. Where is she?”
Alpis stretched his wings. She noticed then that they were darker. Closer to that of a shadow. Where the night could be seen through, he was but a void of darkness with two glowing golden eyes.
Alpis launched into the sky and flew toward the staircase.
“There,” he whispered in her mind, flying upwards.
Risk swallowed hard on the lump in her throat.
She lifted her eyes; steps as far as she could see.
Somewhere up there was Quinn.
“I’m going to bring you back,” she promised into the emptiness.
Then Risk Darkova started to climb.
Chapter 2
Palace Graveyard
“An honorable man robbed of all he owns still has honor. A kind man can lose everything and still have kindness. But a soulless man who has lost all that he is and was—has nothing. For nothing was what he came from, so to it he shall return.”
— Draeven Adelmar, rage thief, left-hand to the King of Norcasta
Silence. It permeated the palace like the graveyard it was.
Norcasta had been rid of near all its lords and ladies that fateful night.
The few that remained were smart enough to not ask for an audience. Not anymore, and certainly not with the king.
A month had passed since Quinn Darkova’s massacre and consequent death. A month since Risk Darkova fled into the night, never to be seen or heard from again.
A month since he had lost his king and his friend to the souls that plagued him for so long.
Draeven did not understand what it was Lazarus went through. He couldn’t comprehend the strain that the souls put on him. All he knew was that when Lazarus learned of Quinn’s death, and his hand in it, the battle that had been waging within finally broke. He lost to his demons, and no one had dared enter that wing of the palace since.
Footsteps echoed in the empty corridor, drawing his attention from the throne room and the memories that accompanied it.
“Dominicus,” Draeven greeted, his tone not as pleasant as it once was. The stress of running a kingdom without a king had taken its toll.
“I’ve received word from one of my spies. Amelia Reinhart is headed to Triene.”
Draeven cursed under his breath. He feared this. The truth.
If it was as Dominicus said, there was only one outcome, and her actions had guaranteed it.
“Can your spies intercept her?” Draeven asked.
“No,” Dominicus said. “She is too powerful. The few that have tried wound up dead by their own volition. I’ve told the one’s reporting to keep their distance and make me aware if there’s any new developments.”
Draeven nodded. It was all they could do. If Amelia was in bed with Triene, it explained a great deal. It also meant there was no taking her out. Not until she left their territory.
“And Lord Northcott?” Draeven prompted, as he started to walk down the empty hallway. Dominicus fell in step.
“Settling in the North. Dissension from the locals has lessened over his rule. He’s not kind, but neither is he cruel. He’s working to build businesses up and increase trade. He wants Dumas to rival Leone for trade, and his ambition is working in our favor for the moment.”
That was better than Draeven expected. He’d let the wealthy lord leave with his life and promise of more power should he fall in line. It pleased him that it seems Northcott did just that.
Draeven detested having to kill men because their flaws got the better of them, and frankly, he couldn’t afford to after the massacre. The other regions were already struggling enough with their lords disposed. Norcasta was in a state of turmoil that he desperately needed to stabilize if what Dominicus said about Amelia Reinhart was true.
“Has Lazarus resurfaced?”
Draeven tensed at the question.
“No,” his answer was curt.
“It’s been a month,” Dominicus said.
“I know.”
“Norcasta is not secure. We took this country, and the heirs are nearly gone. Slavery is ending because of him and the people rejoice in the streets because their old masters are dead. This is when we should be creating our houses to ensure the peace—”
“I know,” Draeven said again, then sighed.
“How long is he going to grieve her?” There was an edge of frustration in his tone that Draeven understood well.