A Queen of Gilded Horns (A River of Royal Blood #2) - Amanda Joy Page 0,21

through the dwindling sachets of tea.

At the first flicker of Aketo’s gaze, I flushed. Along with my sword, a narrow dagger stuffed into my boot, and a throwing-knife belt that I’d repurposed to store a set of climbing spikes, I was well-prepared for our scouting mission. But the single curved short sword belted at Aketo’s waist made me feel ridiculous.

“Sleep well?” Aketo grinned, his voice on the edge of laughter.

After we returned to camp last night, Aketo came to my tent. A few minutes later, Kelis had come to check that I’d returned to camp, shocking the both of us. Kelis’s guffaws chased him from my tent, shirtless. She woke half the camp with her laughter.

I bit my lip. My sleep had been blissfully dreamless, which meant no nightmares. “Like the dead. And you?”

Before Aketo could answer, Falun stepped out from behind one of the nearby tents. The kettle began whistling as he sat down at my right side. We sipped our tea in silence and left camp just as the sun peeked above the horizon.

As we walked, the warm, writhing buzz of Falun’s glamour spread over my skin. I looked to him and Aketo to see its effect; their features flickered in and out of focus, bodies seemingly as insubstantial as smoke.

Soon we reached the village’s edge. Orai still slept, the shades drawn and windows shuttered, but I knew the shepherd girls would be up tending their meager flock soon.

Before then, I needed to see the wall of the estate up close. No one was willing to go forward with my plan unless I was absolutely certain I could climb the wall.

By the time we reached the ocher wall, the sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon. The four-sided wall rose over a hundred feet high, and each limestone brick was engraved with a different figure—women and men mostly, but also strange animals I had no name for. Water drakes crowned with antlers, winged lions with lashing reptilian tails, and massive saddled lizards with feathered chests. The people etched onto the bricks weren’t only khimaer as I first suspected. There were fanged bloodkin and willowy fey—a few even possessed wings.

It was a tribute to ancient Myre.

Papa’s family must have lived here for a millenium. An offshoot of the Red River once ran through the Plain, and in those years, thousands made their home on its banks, at peace with the animals who called this place home.

Papa’s home hadn’t been erected in this lifeless village. It was built when this land bloomed and teemed with life.

I traced a fox-faced woman, filled with the same frustration from yesterday. Why didn’t my father bring me here when he had the chance?

Aketo’s hands were clenched, his gold eyes glossy with unshed tears. “It was hard to believe any khimaer families could have escaped the Enclosures. Until now.”

I ached at the bitterness in his voice. Here Papa’s family was safe, while Aketo’s family and the people he was honor-bound to protect went hungry and were killed.

If this frustrated him, what would the khimaer in Sher n’Cai think of me, coddled in the Palace most of my life?

“Can you sense anyone near us?” I asked.

Falun tipped his head, smelling the air. After both assured me we were well and truly alone, I leaned into the wall, fingers seeking the joints between the bricks.

About halfway up the wall, there was a row of triangular arrow slits. They were my goal. I wanted to take a look inside one and see the dwelling and grounds within.

“Remember, Eva. The glamour will only stretch so far. Past a hundred paces, anyone will be able to see you.”

Falun’s magick—a soft fuzz around my skin I’d stopped noticing—flexed as if in response to his words.

“I understand.” Best guess, the arrow slits were about a hundred paces high. I wouldn’t take long.

I took a deep breath and began. First I peeled off my boots, which, having been caked with grit for weeks, were neither light enough nor supple enough to climb in. Then I pulled one of the climbing spikes from my belt and clenched it between my teeth. Though I was loath to use them now and risk defacing the carvings, I’d be a fool to depend only on my hands.

One thing I’d learned from first climbing trees in the gardens of the Palace, and eventually ascending its marble walls, was that every climb is about calm.

You kept a clear head or you made mistakes and fell on your