When I was calm again, I closed the balcony doors and stepped back into my chambers. I was going to soak in a hot bath when the freestanding Cardea mirror in the corner began rippling with a bright silver light.
I tensed. He had been calling out to me every night since I had returned to Glitnir. He must be able to sense that I was back home, the same way that I knew he was back in Myrkvior.
So far, I had avoided the mirror, but no longer. So I stepped in front of the glass and waited. A few seconds later, the mirror stilled, and a familiar figure appeared on the other side.
Leonidas.
His injuries had been healed, and no trace of Wexel’s beating remained on his face, although he probably had some new scars on his back from Milo’s whipping, and even deeper marks on his heart from Maeven’s betrayal. The cold, malicious part of me hoped that those marks pained him just as badly as his duplicity had hurt my own heart.
Delmira’s liladorn salve had gone a long way toward healing my own wounds, as had Leonidas’s pulling the pain out of my body and shoving it into his own. The Glitnir bone masters had managed to remove the coral-viper whip marks from my back, but ugly pink scars still marred my hands, both front and back.
Yaleen, my thread master, had offered to make gloves to conceal the marks, but I’d refused. I wasn’t a pampered princess any longer, and I wasn’t going to cover up the scars and hide from what had happened. I had done that with the Seven Spire massacre for too long. No more.
Just as I wasn’t going to hide from Leonidas any longer.
“Hello, Gemma,” he said. “You look well.”
“So do you,” I replied in a neutral tone.
The two of us fell silent, once again staring at each other and not saying what we really thought or felt.
“How are things in Myrkvior?” I asked.
A humorless smile lifted his lips. “Tense. And in Glitnir?”
“Also tense.”
He nodded. “You might be interested to know that Milo has been holed up in his workshop ever since we returned.”
I snorted. “No doubt he’s working on a new weapon to try to kill me.”
“Yes,” Leonidas replied. “I haven’t been able to find any trace of the tearstone. Milo must have moved it out of the palace. I’m sorry, Gemma. If I knew where it was, I would tell you.”
“Would you?” I challenged.
“Of course.” He kept his gaze steady on mine. “I will never lie to you about anything. Never again. I promise you that.”
A spark of foolish hope flared in my heart, but I quickly, ruthlessly extinguished it. “And I will not trust you. Never again. I promise you that.”
He grimaced, and we both fell silent.
“You don’t have to worry about the tearstone anymore,” I said. “I will deal with Milo when the time comes. And Maeven as well, if she dares to interfere again.”
Leonidas nodded again. “As is your right. I’m sorry, Gemma. So sorry. For everything that happened. For everything that you suffered because of me. If I could go back and change it, I would. I never should have brought you to Myrkvior.”
“Why did you bring me to the palace?”
“You know why.”
“I thought you promised not to lie to me anymore,” I snapped.
He grimaced again, but his gaze remained locked with mine. “I brought you to the palace because I always remembered the girl from the woods.”
“You never forget the first girl who tries to kill you.” I echoed what he’d said in Milo’s workshop.
A small grin curved his lips. “It certainly made you memorable.”
“Why did you save me in the woods that day? Why did you kill your own captain? Especially after I had just tried to kill you?”
His grin faded away. “Because I knew what Uncle Maximus would do if he got his hands on you. I wouldn’t have doomed anyone to that fate. Plus, I thought that if I helped you escape, that it might make up, just a little bit, for everything Mother had done at Seven Spire, for all the horrible things she had done to you. Foolish, I know.”
Perhaps. But at least he had tried to do the right thing, which was more than most people would have done, especially given our families’ bloody history.
Leonidas cleared his throat. “But you weren’t just the girl who tried to kill me. Mostly, I remembered the girl that I talked to for months afterward. The one who was a mind magier just like me. In many ways, you were the only friend I ever had, besides Lyra and Delmira. But then you went away. I always wondered why.”
“Because I was afraid of you and my power and everything else,” I confessed, unwanted emotion thickening my voice. “Alvis made me that gargoyle pendant, so I blocked you out, along with my magic and everything that happened during the Seven Spire massacre.”
What a strange pair we made, him yearning to remember those times, and me trying so desperately to forget them. Perhaps that was one of the reasons why we were so drawn to each other.
“I did something similar after the Regalia Games. I still have nightmares about the tidal wave that Uncle Maximus used to try to kill Queen Everleigh.” A shudder rippled through his body.
As much as I hated to admit it, the two of us were far more alike than different, including how haunted we were by our pasts.
“Was any of it real? When we were on the balcony the night we snuck into Milo’s workshop? Or in my chambers after Wexel attacked us in the old armory? Or on the dance floor during the ball?” The questions tumbled out of my lips before I could stop them.
Surprise flickered across Leonidas’s face, although it quickly vanished, replaced by something much brighter and hotter, a promise of magic and fire that made desire sizzle through my veins. “If you were here right now, then I would show you how real it was.”
The low, husky vow in his voice sent a shiver skittering down my spine, even as that desire in my veins flared up to new heights.
“If I were there, then I would shove my dagger into your heart,” I snarled.
He arched an eyebrow at me. “Now who’s lying? I thought we weren’t going to do that to each other anymore.”
“I made no such pledge—and I’m not lying.”
His eyebrow arched a little higher, but then his face turned serious. “I truly am sorry, Gemma. I hope that you can forgive me someday. I bungled everything so very badly.”
Yes, he had bungled things, and I wasn’t sure I could ever forgive him—or especially myself for being such a blind, stupid fool. So I changed the subject. “There is one more thing I want to know.”
“What?”
“Why did your mother call me the gargoyle queen? What did she mean by that?”
Leonidas’s brow furrowed in thought. “Obviously, the Ripleys are known for their connection to the gargoyles, but I think she meant something else by it. Something more. I don’t know what, though.” He paused. “But you seem to have made her . . . happy.”
I threw my arms out wide. “I killed her guards and drove back her son. Why would any of that make Maeven happy?”
“I don’t know, but she’s already scheming something else. She’s been in her personal library all week, studying old books about courtly etiquette. Part of me doesn’t want to know what she’s plotting.”
Part of me didn’t want to know either. Whatever it was, Maeven’s new scheme would most likely be sly, complicated, and put me in mortal danger again.
Leonidas stepped closer to the mirror. “I have something for you.”
He held his hand up to the glass. A silver chain was wrapped around his fingers, with a bejeweled disk dangling off the end—my gargoyle pendant.
My breath caught in my throat. I’d found my dagger in the debris, but I hadn’t seen the pendant since Milo had torn it off my neck and tossed it aside during the plaza fight. “How did you get that?”
“The night of the fight, we camped on the Mortan side of the mountain. I snuck back over to the plaza and used my magic to fish it out of the rubble.”<
br />
I frowned. “Why would you do that?”
“Because it’s yours,” Leonidas replied. “Milo already took so much from you. I didn’t want him to have this too. Here. I’ll send it through the mirror to you.”
I froze as the mirror started rippling, and Leonidas’s hand stretched through the glass and out into my room. My gaze dropped to the pendant. He was right. It was mine, and I wanted it back. So I stepped forward and wrapped my fingers around the snarling gargoyle face.
He let me pull it and the chain out of his hand, but when I started to step back, he reached out and curled his fingers into mine. I froze again, both enjoying and hating the heat of his skin against my own.
Leonidas stroked his thumb across the scar on the top of my hand, bringing more and more heat to my body. For a mad, mad moment, I thought that he might step all the way through the mirror and come to me, here in Andvari, into my bedroom. That he would keep his promise and show me how real this attraction between us was. Part of me ached for him to do that and more—so much more.
But the other part of me remembered his betrayal. I would not be a fool again. So I iced over my heart and yanked my hand out of his.
Disappointment flickered across his face, but he didn’t reach for me again. Instead, he drew his own hand back through the mirror, so that he was standing on the other side again.
Leonidas dropped into a low, formal bow. Then he straightened, his gaze burning into mine. “Until we meet again, Gemma.”
He waved his hand, and that bright silver light flared once more. A moment later, he was gone, and the mirror was cold and still again.
I let out a breath and raised the necklace up to the light. Leonidas had cleaned the dirt and grime off the pendant and had fixed the broken chain. I rubbed my thumb over Grimley’s snarling face, then went over to my writing desk, placed the gargoyle pendant on the corner of the wood, and sat down.
Several books were piled on the desk, along with papers, maps, and more from the Ripley royal library. Ever since I had returned to Glitnir, I had been trying to find out everything I could about tearstone, its magical properties, and how it could be used as a weapon. I might have sent Milo running back to Morta, but he was far from defeated.
Maeven was right. We were all playing capture-the-crown, although the stakes were much, much higher than in any child’s game. The last part of the old Andvarian song chimed through my mind.
But for those who conquer
their fear and capture the crown,
that lord or lady has the power
to tear their enemies down.
Capture the crown, and you could tear down the throne that went with it. Well, my eyes were firmly fixed on the Morricone throne. So I opened a book and pulled it closer, reading through the passages and trying to find a weakness that would let me destroy my mortal enemies.
Acknowledgments
My heartfelt thanks go out to all the folks who help turn my words into a book.
Thanks go to my agent, Annelise Robey, and my editor, Erika Tsang, for all their helpful advice, support, and encouragement. Thanks also to Nicole Fischer, Rhina Garcia, Naureen Nashid, Angela Craft, and everyone else at Harper Voyager and HarperCollins.
And finally, a big thanks to all the readers. Knowing that folks read and enjoy my books is truly humbling, and I hope that you all enjoy reading about Gemma, Grimley, and their adventures.
I appreciate you all more than you will ever know.
Happy reading! ☺
About the Author
JENNIFER ESTEP is a New York Times, USA Today, and internationally bestselling author who prowls the streets of her imagination in search of her next fantasy idea.
She is the author of the Crown of Shards, Elemental Assassin, and other fantasy series. She has written more than forty books, along with numerous novellas and stories.
In her spare time, Jennifer enjoys hanging out with friends and family, doing yoga, and reading fantasy and romance books. She also watches way too much TV and loves all things related to superheroes.
For more information on Jennifer and her books, visit her website at www.jenniferestep.com or follow her online on Facebook, Goodreads, BookBub, and Twitter—@Jennifer_Estep. You can also sign up for her newsletter at www.jenniferestep.com/contact-jennifer/newsletter.
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Announcement
The Gargoyle Queen series continues May 2022!
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Teaser to Tear Down the Throne
Reiko grumbled some more, but she climbed onto Fern. I did the same with Grimley. Then, with a whisper of wings, the gargoyles took off.
I leaned over Grimley’s back, admiring the vibrant gardens below. White crushed-shell paths shimmered like opalescent ribbons twining around the lush green lawns, while gray stone arbors draped with pink, purple, and blue wisteria stood next to the enormous oaks that gave Oakton its name. The wind whistled through my hair, bringing with it the delicate scents of the colorful blossoms that populated the flowerbeds, as well as that crisp, earthy tang that was uniquely fall. The cerulean sky was clear of clouds, and the late-October sun added some pleasant warmth to the brisk day.
I was never happier than when I was on Grimley’s back, sailing through the sky, the landscape laid out before me like a carpet at a queen’s feet. And perhaps best of all, way up here, there was no dining hall full of condescending nobles, gossipy servants, and bored guards silently judging me in their own minds, where they thought I couldn’t hear them. These days, I appreciated the quiet more than ever, especially given all the unquiet in my own mind. So I tilted my face into the wind, breathed in deeply again, and enjoyed every single moment of our flight.
It didn’t take the gargoyles long to zoom past the stone walls that bordered Eichen’s estate, along with the nearby town of Haverton. People were walking and shopping in the plazas below like usual, and no one seemed to notice us pass by overhead. Then again, they had no real reason to, since gargoyles flew over the town all the time to hunt for rats, rabbits, and more in the countryside.
We quickly left the town behind as well, and Grimley and Fern flew for about thirty more minutes before I spotted an odd shape on the forest floor. Below, through the trees, the remains of a campfire stood in a stone pit in the middle of a clearing, like a black bull’s-eye on an archery target.
I pointed out the spot to Grimley. Over there. That might be what we’re looking for.
On my way.
Grimley flexed his wings and veered in that direction. But instead of landing in the clearing, he flew past it. I might be taking a risk by investigating the rumors, but I wasn’t about to land right beside the fire pit. That was just asking for trouble, especially since I didn’t know how many Mortans might be lurking.
A few minutes later, Grimley spiraled down, down, down and landed in another, smaller clearing. Fern and Reiko also glided to a stop beside us.
I slid off Grimley’s back. As soon as my feet touched the ground, I pulled my dagger out of its scabbard and scanned the area. Beyond the clearing, the woods stretched out as far as I could see, and my breath steamed faintly in the chilly air. Given the high elevation of the Spire Mountains, fall had already come and gone here, and many of the trees were bare, although a few were still swathed in brilliant scarlet, gold, and citrine leaves like noble ladies draped in colorful ball gowns.
No one was moving through the trees, converging on our position, so I glanced over at Reiko, who was still sitting atop Fern.
“You can let go now,” Fern chirped in a helpful voice.
Reiko flinched, as though the gargoyle’s bright tone had startled her, but she slowly released her white-knuckle grip on the bases of Fern’s wings and slid to the ground.
“Problems?” I drawled.
Reiko shook her head, and some of the sickly green tinge faded from her face. “Nope.” She shook her head again, as if pushing away the rest of her na
usea, then drew her sword. “Let’s go find the Mortans.”
We left Grimley and Fern in the clearing to hunt and headed deeper into the woods.
Reiko and I moved from one tree to another, careful to step on as few dried leaves and dead twigs as possible. We were still making far too much noise, but we didn’t encounter anyone, and we quickly reached the clearing I’d glimpsed earlier.
The fire pit was much larger than it had appeared from above, and the scent of charred wood hung in the air like an invisible, smoky cloud. I reached out with my magic, searching for flickers of thoughts and spurts of feelings, but the surrounding area was silent and still. I nodded at Reiko. Together, we stepped into the clearing.
I strode over, crouched down, and put my hand in the blackened detritus of the fire. The gray ash was still wet, indicating that someone had been here recently. I glanced around, looking for crusts of bread, stray bits of cloth, loose coins, or anything else someone might have accidentally dropped, but nothing had been left behind—except boot prints.
Several boot prints grooved into the soft, muddy ground around the fire pit, indicating that at least half a dozen people, maybe more, had recently tromped through this area. My heart picked up speed. This had to be a Mortan campsite. No one in Haverton would have any reason to be this far out in the woods, especially not this many people at once.
Reiko also eyed the boot prints. “Whoever was here cleaned up after themselves fairly well. The next hard rain would have washed away all traces of them.”
I got to my feet and wiped the ash off my hand. “Let’s track them, and see if the rats lead us back to their nest.”
Together, with our weapons in our hands, we headed out the far side of the clearing and even deeper into the woods.
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