A Queen of Gilded Horns (A River of Royal Blood #2) - Amanda Joy Page 0,68

Khimaerani is closer to the Ivory Throne than in centuries and you have the chance to aid her. You all can guide her and make certain she is khimaer in more than blood alone. And you have a responsibility to keep her from being killed.”

“I think I will compel the truth from you, Hunter.” Ysai gathered her white skirts in one hand and stalked forward. “This may yet be another scheme of yours, another betrayal.”

“I”—Baccha rose from his stool and held out his bound hands—“am no freer to betray you than I am to walk out of this camp. And you are not free to ignore this. I was there the day Princess Oyani fled north with her Elderi Council. Everyone swore by their blood and magick to retake the throne the moment a path to it was clear. Khimaerani has laid this path before us. You have to take it.”

“Lord Hunter, didn’t you also swear to obey the orders of every woman who would lead this Tribe?”

Baccha nodded, jaw clenched.

“Good, then you should leave the ordering about to me.” She pointed to the two guards standing at the steps leading out of the meeting chamber. “Take Lord Baccha to the cages. We need to discuss this alone.”

It was only when the guards hauled him up the steps did Baccha realize Eva had finally fled from his mind.

Chapter 14

Eva

I opened my eyes to find the room still spinning and leaned forward till my head rested comfortably between my knees. I had vastly underestimated just how dizzying it would be to jump from here, into my mindscape, then into Baccha’s head, and back.

“Are you all right?” Falun asked, reaching for my hand. “Is Baccha . . . ?”

“I’m fine,” I groaned. “Baccha is well enough.”

Despite his bonds, he was unharmed from what I could tell. Then again Baccha could heal almost any wound, so there were any number of possibilities. Though I did not think these Elderi would harm him. I had skimmed through Baccha’s thoughts, surprised to find the council that chose Queens in the past was attempting to do so again.

“Well enough? You don’t sound so certain. Where is he, then?”

“He’s exactly where I told you he would be.” I paused to sit up and so that I could look into Fal’s eyes. “But it’s not by choice. He’s their prisoner, because he helped me.”

Falun scoffed. “Don’t feel too bad. I’m sure he can escape whenever he’d like.”

“Possibly,” I agreed, “though I believe their leader has some power over him.”

I told him about the strange, large chamber and the Elderi. Even in Baccha’s mind, I could sense the weight of their collective wisdom and power. Then there had been the girl, the one they called Mother Ysai, who couldn’t have been more than a few years older than me. The young khimaer woman was lovely, with bronze skin and silver hair. Short, black-tipped claws curled over her fingertips and she had no obvious animal aspects, yet something about her had struck me. I couldn’t dispel the image of her face, the glossy black eyes full of violence, and her sharp chin.

She was clearly their leader, but her words didn’t hold as much weight with the Elderi as they should have if the way they’d argued was any indication.

And then there had been Baccha, who when bade to reveal all he had learned in Ternain, had instead chosen to advocate for me. Baccha, who was still my friend.

I hesitated at telling Falun about the last thing I had heard before I returned to my mindscape. Take Lord Baccha to the cages.

Guilt writhed in my gut. Whatever else he’d done, Baccha hadn’t chosen the Tribe over me. He remained my ally, despite his abrupt disappearance after my nameday. All the anger I’d clung to so tightly now curdled in my stomach.

“I still don’t understand how he knew about the shapeshifting. Or why he didn’t tell me.”

“You remember how he is. Too full of secrets to know when truth will serve him best,” Fal said. “And Baccha is a tough one. He will be fine.”

“He wants to bring them south, to help us. If he succeeds . . .” I trailed off, remembering the vengeance in Ysai’s eyes when Baccha revealed my khimaer gift. Even worse was the venom with which she described marrow and blood magick. Her words were painfully familiar; I’d been directing the same hateful thoughts at myself for years.

“Then we’ll have another ally,” Falun replied. “And maybe someone