by Linda Kage
Needing answers and feeling an urgency to get them, as if I had somewhere important to be, and time was imperative, I sat upright, only for my stomach to revolt at the sudden movement.
“Christ.” Spotting a chamber pot by the door, I dove toward it, landing on my knees and vomiting everything inside me.
What the hell was happening? Something felt wrong. Inside me. There was this cryptic emptiness I couldn’t explain.
It scared me.
The door opened as I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.
A male silhouette loomed in the entrance. “Indy,” a solemn voice greeted before Prince Erick stepped into the room. “How’re you feeling?”
“I…” I shook my head, beyond confused. “What…?”
Then it all came back to me: Erick’s men capturing me after I tried to take them on a wild goose chase so Quilla could escape.
“Quilla!” I gasped, surging to my feet and then slapping my hand against the wall to brace myself when dizziness assaulted me.
What the fuck?
“Whoa. Steady there,” Erick told me, catching my arm. “Your body’s still trying to adjust to the change.”
“What change?” I asked, shaking my head and trying to swallow down the nausea as more rose. I let him lead me to the bed, where I sat and tried to collect my thoughts.
The first thing I needed to do was find out if Quilla was okay. She’d been in so much pain that last time I’d—
Blinking, I realized I couldn’t feel her at all. No echo of emotion, not even a signal from my mark telling which direction to go to get to her. It felt as if I didn’t have a mark at all.
Since the moment I’d first sensed her, my mark had always been locked on to her in some way or another. It had been my own personal security system, letting me know she was well and still alive out there, and it always directed me to where she was.
But for some reason, there was nothing.
Lifting my hand to the mark, hoping she was still alive, I realized the same temple where my head was bandaged was the same side the mark was on.
The first hint of panic stirred. I lifted my gaze to Erick.
His eyes filled with regret even before he rasped the words, “I’m so sorry.”
I shook my head, not understanding.
Refusing to understand.
“Sorry about what?” Fumbling, I gripped the edge of the bandage and yanked it off.
“You have no idea how hard I had to beg the king to convince him to spare your life at all after he found out you were mated to a Graykey. Jesus, Indy. He wanted you executed on sight. But I was able to talk him out of that, at least. You could be dead right now. This, though…” His gaze filled with regret as I gently prodded the area where my mark was supposed to be, only to find an open wound.
“This I couldn’t get him to budge on.”
My love mark was gone.
“He ordered it to be cut off you,” Erick explained.
A sob exploded from my chest. “What?” I whispered. No!
No, no, no, no.
Without my mark, I wouldn’t be able to find Quilla. I wouldn’t know if she was in pain. I wouldn’t even know if she was still alive.
“NOOOOOOO!”
Erick was no help at all about having an idea where his father might’ve taken Quilla to complete the tracking ritual.
“Do you know if there’s a specific place that was planned for it, or can they just do it anywhere? What does it even entail?” I asked.
He shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“Well, how long does it take? An hour? A day? Weeks?”
“I couldn’t say.” His gaze lifted solemnly to me.
“Then what kind of supplies are needed for it? A lot of water? Should we head toward a coast? Mountains? Desert?”
“That’s a good question.”
“Dammit,” I shouted, clutching my head, and wincing when my palm came too close to the unbandaged area of my temple, where I no longer had a mark.
“What can you tell me? Certainly, your father told you something. Or you overheard—”
But the crown prince was already shaking his head. “The king’s grown smart enough not to trust me with too many confidences. He only discloses state secrets to a very select few, which I’m not a part of.”
“Why the hell not?” I demanded. “You’re the next in line. Shouldn’t he tell you more than anyone else?”
Erick released a long breath. “You’d think so,” he admitted ruefully. “But I fear I’ve disagreed with him on too many points and policies. He cannot get me to blindly follow his will. Apparently, I’ve disobeyed direct orders far too often for his taste, and so…” He shrugged helplessly. “He likes to keep me in the dark as much as possible.”
“Do you know who he would confide in? Maybe if we got hold of one of those people and—”
“Indigo,” Erick cut in, rubbing his head as if he were getting a headache. “Being his son or even the next in line wouldn’t exonerate me from treasonous punishment if I were caught helping you. We’d both be swinging from the end of a rope if he knew we were still looking for your mate regardless of his orders. So, no, we’re not going to just capture and interrogate the king’s top advisor for the information we need.”
“But—”
“Oh my God. You’re giving me a headache. If we’re going to find your true love, we have to be discreet.”
Air hissed from between my teeth. But then relief filled my lungs. “So you are going to help me find her, at least?”
Blinking at me as if I were insane, he sputtered, “Of course. Your true love was just taken. If I didn’t step in to assist, you’d no doubt tear down half this realm looking for her and probably get yourself killed in the process. And I already went through too many annoyances to keep you alive; I’m not going to just stand aside and watch you leap right back into mortal danger again.”
Anticipation and hope bloated in my chest. “Does this mean you already have a plan to get the information we need?”
He rolled his eyes. “How could I rightly call myself the next King of High Cliff if I didn’t?”
Thank God. “Then what’s the plan?”
“Well, I’m going to have to step back for the next leg of this journey. The king monitors what I do and where I go too closely. He believes I’m sending you back to the queen in Far Shore right now, as he commanded, so I’ll need to return home alone as if that’s exactly what I’ve done. Don’t worry, though, I’m going to pass you off to someone who can help you better than I could.”
“But—” I started, unable to put my confidence in anyone else. I was already risking a lot to trust Erick’s claim that he would help me save a Graykey woman. How could I believe someone new would be so enlightened and accepting of my mission?
Erick held up a hand, silencing me. “Besides,” he went on, lifting his voice. “I think you secretly like this scholar more than you do me, anyway.”
My eyes widened. “You mean Vander?” Also known as the scholarly prince of High Cliff.
I sighed in instant relief. I might have served under Erick’s youngest brother, Urban, in the army, but it was his middle brother, Olivander, that I’d always had the most in common with.
Olivander Bjorn was the caretaker of the only library in the kingdom—and maybe in all of the Outer Realms. Everything I’d learned about researching I’d learned from him.
Erick nodded once. “I’ve sent a coded raven message to him, and he’s agreed to meet us in Belle.”
“Belle!” I exploded incredulously. “But it’ll take us a week to get to Belle.”
“Or a day,” Erick corrected me. “As we’re in Ashley now.”
We were in Ashley? How long had I been unconscious? It had to have taken them days to get here. And what the hell were we doing so far from Tyler? I needed to get back to Tyler. Tyler was the last place I’d seen Quilla.
I instinctively didn’t want to stray far away from where I’d last
seen her, though logically, the likelihood of her being kept in Tyler was small. My guess would be for the king to bring her to Elaina—the capital of High Cliff—for this ritual thing, so he could personally oversee it. And Belle was closer to Elaina than we were now. So, meeting there made more sense.
But still, it felt strangely wrong to me.
“We’ll have to meet him in person in order to explain everything,” Erick was saying, “because too many coded messages might alert Father to some kind of duplicitous behavior from us. We have to be smart about this.”
I nodded. “You’re right. Thank you, Erick. Even if this doesn’t work...” I blew out a calming breath and clasped his arm. “Thank you for at least trying for me.”
Erick checked us into an inn just outside of Belle a day later.
I was a complete wreck. Sometimes, I’d allow myself to wonder about her.
Was she okay?
Being tortured?
Still even alive?
And sometimes I raged out of control, breaking something near me.
But letting myself think about different ways she could have suffered and died was when the panic would attack the strongest. Black spots would form in my vision, and my breathing would ratchet out of control. I’d let myself picture worst-case scenarios, where she was chained, unable to defend herself, and hurt in every way imaginable.
I would press my palm against the scab growing over my temple, willing my mark to return, until the wound broke open and began to bleed, but it never revealed a single thing to me about Quilla’s location or welfare.
The only way I could ever control the desperate anxiety and terror that sloshed through my veins like acid was to get mad. I locked on to the anger like a drowning man clinging to a log floating by, gasping and digging my fingernails into the bark, knowing I’d go under and suffocate if I dared to let go of it.
It started to grow clear to me why Quilla had always been so angry. When you couldn’t control anything, fury became your power. I might not know where to find her, but I could concentrate on all the ways I was going to mutilate her captors when I caught them. So wrath became my close friend.
Feeling it simmer just under the surface, I watched Erick exit the inn’s main house and tip his chin to me.
“Vander’s already here,” he announced. “He’s checked into the cottage at the end.”
I pivoted and started that way, relieved we wouldn’t have to wait for him. At the last lodge on the row, I knocked on the door and it was opened almost immediately.
Olivander was probably the tallest of the three Bjorn princes, though not as wide as Urban. He grew his hair longer too, letting the dark locks fall past his shoulders. When he bothered to smile, he had a dimple, like his sister Allera, and his blue eyes were considerably paler than the others, bordering on almost eerie.
“Indy?” he said in surprise before the dimple flashed and he tugged me into the cottage for a quick hug. “I had no idea you’d be here. Hell, I had no idea you were in High Cliff at all. Growing a beard now, huh?” He reached out and gave it a brief, teasing scratch. “Makes you look a bit—huh—a bit violent, actually.”
“I’d say that properly represents his mood, then,” Erick answered, entering the cottage behind me and shutting the door at his back. “Darkness seems to have become Indigo’s middle name these last few days.”
Olivander’s smile faltered. “Uh-oh. Found some trouble for yourself, did you, old friend?”
Erick quickly highlighted the details of my predicament. And as he spoke, Olivander pressed a finger against his lips and squinted in confusion as he glanced back and forth between me and his brother.
“So…” he finally said, shaking his head and widening his eyes when Erick was done talking. “You want my help to locate and save a Graykey?”
“I need your help finding my mate,” I growled impatiently, clarifying the situation.
“Who’s a Graykey,” he added, blinking a lot as if trying to comprehend that one.
“Look. Are you willing to help or not?”
“Of course,” he answered immediately. “I’d tear the entire Outer Realms apart looking for Unity if someone took her. And we’re not even married yet.”
Olivander was significantly older than his true love. He’d met her and realized she was his soulmate when she was just a babe in the cradle, and when she’d turned twelve, he had sent her away to Tipton for schooling. But that had been years ago, and—wait—now that I thought about it, she was probably old enough to have graduated from the ladies’ academy by this point. These days, she had to be old enough to return to the castle and marry.
I wonder why they hadn’t married yet.
But Olivander’s love life made no difference to me. I just wanted my mate back.
“I can imagine what you’re going through,” Olivander murmured sympathetically. “And I love solving a good mystery. Besides…” He quirked a sardonic, dry smile. “How could I refuse a chance to defy Father?”
I swallowed, not daring to hope. “Do you have any idea where she might be?”
Olivander chuckled and lifted a leather satchel that had been sitting on a nearby table. Flipping open the top flap, he revealed the contents, which was full of scrolls.
“Oh, I have plenty of ideas,” he answered.
Chapter 38
Indigo
Olivander and I got to researching as soon as Erick left us, claiming he needed to get back to the capital before his absence began to look suspicious.
“I’ve charted Father’s comings and goings for the past ten years on this scroll. Where he goes, who he visits, and how long he’s gone.” He tossed that scroll onto the table only to pick up another. “On this one, I’ve copied all the financial records that have been reported in the kingdom’s coffers: where the money is spent, who it goes to, and for what reason.”
After he discarded the second scroll, I picked it up and unrolled the spools so I could study it. Olivander went on explaining a few more he had, but I blocked him out, frowning at names, dates, and prices, running my finger along the list as I went. When I saw a name I recognized, it pinged in my head.
I saw it again, then again, once every moon cycle, in fact. I went back in time, checking for more transactions, only to realize that Everett of House Teller had been receiving the same stipend for supplies from King Ignatius for the last two years.
“What’s this?” I asked, showing it to Olivander.
He squinted over and took the scroll from my hand. “The payments to Teller?” he asked, glancing up in question.
I nodded.
“Your uncle Everett’s been commissioned to build elevated guard stations down the canyon pass between Far Shore and High Cliff.”
“Elevated guard stations?” My brow furrowed. “And he’s been building them for the past two years? In the canyon pass?”
The prince nodded. “Father visits at least twice a year to inspect the progress.”
I shook my head. “No, he doesn’t. He can’t have. I just went through the pass. There are no guard towers anywhere throughout the entire length. None have even been started.”
“Hmm.” Olivander sent me a troubled glance and rubbed his chin. “I guess dear ol’ Dad is hiding something else, then. I’m not surprised.”
“You think it has something to do with the Graykey tracking ritual?”
Olivander shook his head. “I don’t know why it would.”
“But they had some surprisingly sophisticated perimeter magic set up to catch her.”
I explained the booby trap that had started this whole mess.
Olivander’s eyebrows lifted, impressed. “That does sound extreme. We don’t even have those kinds of measures set up around Elaina. I didn’t realize your uncle was that motivated to end the Graykeys.”
“I didn’t either,” I murmured, growing suspicious. I’d lived with him for three years, and the only things he’d been passionate about was his hatred for the High Cliff crown and r
eclaiming the Teller title.
Now, he was supposedly working with the crown?
It didn’t add up.
“I want to talk to him,” I decided. I didn’t like how nothing made sense. I needed answers.
“Patience, Moast,” Olivander cautioned. “Just because something’s going on there doesn’t mean it’s what we’re looking for. I wouldn’t be surprised if the king has a dozen different shady deals going on under the table about numerous issues that his council wouldn’t approve of. Let’s keep looking.”
I nodded, knowing he was right. Quilla could be anywhere. The chances that she’d be in the first place I suspected was low. Except I couldn’t ignore the feeling that my uncle knew something about this Graykey locating ritual.
We kept scouring Olivander’s scrolls for days. Then weeks. Whenever he suggested I eat or rest or bathe, or even shave, I merely snapped at him and kept searching for something definitive that would lead us to Quilla.
Whenever I did bother to lie down, I only saw her when I closed my eyes. Sometimes she’d glare at me and threaten to stab me, and I’d grin, enjoying her sass. Sometimes, she’d take my hand and lead me somewhere private, like she had the first time we’d been together.
But most of the time, I saw her beaten and bloody, dying alone and calling out for me, begging, asking why I didn’t help her. Yet, I didn’t know how to even find her.
Soaked with a cold sweat, I gasped awake one night and bolted upright.
Wiping the tormented sleep from my face, I swung my legs over the side of the cot and pushed to my feet. I wandered outside and into a warm, breezeless night.
Looking up at the stars, I wondered if Quilla could see them from wherever she was.
“I’ll find you,” I whispered to the sky. “No matter where you are, I’ll find you. I swear it.” I wouldn’t give up until I at least knew she was okay.
“Jesus,” I hissed, scrubbing my hands over my face. I hated this more than I hated anything. This not-knowing and complete loss of control could ruin me. I just needed—