A Crown of Cursed Hearts (Kingdom of Blighted Thorns #3)

42. Tempest

42

TEMPEST

I venrail strolled over to me wearing only thin sleep pants and a sneer.

“You’re pitiful. And you think you’re going to kill me?” He tipped back his head and cackled. “You can’t even breathe.”

But I could . . .

. . . I flitted from his bedroom and landed hard inside the front parlor of Lydel Court.

With his roar of rage blasting through my mind, I dropped onto the sofa in front of the cold fireplace.

A smile lit up my face.

I dropped the bag onto my lap. My pulse raced, but my eyes were heavy, eager to drag me down and trundle me off to sleep. But I still had more to do tonight.

Layla and Zayde walked into the room, and they obviously didn’t see me because he lifted her and pressed her against the wall and started kissing her, his hands roaming her body. The sword hanging on the wall above them rattled.

I cleared my throat.

Zayde lifted his head, and it snapped in my direction, his wild gaze softening when he saw me sitting on the sofa.

“You’re back,” I said, rising. I kept a tight grip on the bag and wouldn’t release it until I’d found a secure place to hide it, assuming such a place existed even within a court still encased in the remnants of a curse.

“Yes.” Zayde lowered Layla to her feet.

She smoothed her gown and gave me a smile so joyful it made my heart spasm. Love used to make me feel that way too, but something had stolen it away. She crossed the room and gave me a hug.

“Is everything alright?” she asked.

“Vexxion went to Weldsbane to swallow his core. I’m going after mine in the morning.” A chill of trepidation shot through me. What if I wasn’t successful?

Back in Ivenrail’s bedroom, I should’ve struggled, found a way to break the spell he’d cast over me. Then I could’ve ripped his head from his throat and blasted him with power before turning him to ashes, like I’d done with the high advisor.

A wasted opportunity? Something inside me told me no, and it said that while the time was coming where I’d be given a final chance to act, that time was not now.

“He’s not back yet?” Layla’s smile fell. She took my hand and tugged me down to sit with her on the sofa, placing her arm around my shoulders. “I’m sorry. Does he . . .”

“No. Not yet.” And I worried he’d never remember. I shoved aside my endless mourning and lifted my eyebrows Zayde’s way.

He took a chair across from us, his indulgent gaze focused on Layla.

“What does the high lord of Riftflame have to say?” I asked.

“That he’ll consider our offer.”

“Only consider it?” I’d hoped they’d return with a definitive answer.

Layla nodded. “At first, he told us to leave, and you could see he was terrified Ivenrail would discover we were there to ask for help.”

“I assume the king placed spies in his court,” I said.

Zayde grunted. “We thought of that and approached him in his private sitting room, waiting until he was alone.”

“How did you keep anyone from seeing you?” He didn’t have threads like Vexxion, since that ability came from his mother, but he must have another way to mask his presence.

“I’ll teach you sometime.”

“Tomorrow?” I asked.

“Didn’t you just say you were going after your court’s core? I imagine that’ll keep you busy enough. After that? We’ll see.”

Alright then. I’d ask Vexxion when he returned or see if I could figure it out myself. “You mentioned my offer of eggs and dragons?”

“I did, and that’s the only reason he’s considering forming an alliance with us. He’s holding on for as long as he can. We overheard that he’d sent an emissary to Evergorne Court, and his emissary recently returned. My uncle didn’t share the information with us, but I verified it’s true. This is big. It could make a huge difference for us as well.”

“Evergorne Court?” I asked, unsure what he meant.

“Three courts rule the continent south of here. They’ve warred for a very long time, and the high lord of Riftflame thought he could gain support by offering allyship to the king of Evergorne who rules the northern part of the continent.”

“If they plan to support Riftflame against Bledmire, then I also need to reach out to Evergorne.”

“You’re right,” Zayde said. “We should send an emissary. This court is the last hold-out on the southern part of our continent. If Lydel Court falls . . .”

“The king won’t stop with Lydel. He’ll keep going, and with flying dregs, he’ll invade Evergorne first.”

“Exactly. If anything, their king will be even more eager to form an alliance with you,” Layla said.

“So back to Riftflame,” I said. “Madrood will be back anytime, and I’ll have definitive news about dragons and eggs we can share with Riftflame.” Imagine if we attacked Ivenrail from the north and the south at the same time. We’d stand a good chance of eliminating the dreg threat, and then I could deal with the king. “If we can have confirmed eggs and dragons, would you be willing to return with a solid offer?”

“Of course,” Zayde said. “On our way back, we stopped at a friend’s manor in former Lydel territory. I took the liberty of sounding him out. If you’re interested, I’ll flit there and ask him to travel to Evergorne to ask for help. He’d make the perfect emissary.” He lowered his voice and peered around as if he was afraid someone might be listening, but the first thing I did when I returned was check our wards, and they remained solid. “He’s still loyal to Lydel.”

“Very good.” I nodded slowly. “I was going to suggest something like that.”

“We need every rider and every fighter we can find,” Zayde said. “If they send flights, it could make all the difference.”

“What do you know about the king of Evergorne?” I asked. Would he be open to an alliance with us in addition to Riftflame?

“He’s young.”

I frowned. “How young?”

“Nearly thirty. As a child, he was crowned king after his father died.”

“A child?”

“He was the only heir.”

“I assume he has advisors, then,” I said.

“I heard his mother plays some role in that, but there must be others.” He blinked slowly, thinking. “I’ll speak with my friend tonight. If I know him, he’ll leave immediately. We can’t wait.”

He was right. Each day could make all the difference.

“How are things coming along with your magic?” I asked Layla.

“Zayde is teaching me all sorts of things,” Layla gushed. “It’s coming easier than I’d hoped, but slower than I’d like. But I’ve perfected my best skill, a spell that allows me to overhear conversation within a certain distance.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “That’s how we found out about his deal with Evergorne. ”

“A spell you’ll teach me as soon as I have time,” I said.

“I’ll be glad to,” she said.

“I want to learn that spell too.” Reyla stumbled into the parlor, her staggering pace suggesting she was still half-asleep. She slouched on the chair beside Zayde’s and rubbed her face.

“You look like you need more sleep, not a lesson in magic,” I said.

Her yawn stretched out. “I feel like I’ve slept forever, but I’m still worn out.”

Layla nodded. “I understand. We’ve been through a lot. I can’t wait to go to bed.” Her gaze sought Zayde.

Zayde frowned and got up, walking over to stoop down in front of Reyla, holding out his hands. “If I may?”

She looked at him in sleepy bewilderment but nodded.

He cupped her face gently and tilted it this way and that before leaning close and sniffing her. “Hmm.”

“What’s going on?” Layla asked. She unhooked her arm from my shoulders and leaned forward on the sofa.

“I’m not sure.” His frown remained directed at Reyla. “Did you wander into a patch of willwort?”

Reyla blinked up at him. “I don’t even know what that is.”

“I can’t believe anyone would plant it in the courtyard, but I’ll take a look tomorrow,” he said. “Stay inside until I make sure there’s nothing toxic in the area.”

“What’s willwort?” A thread of unease knotted inside me. I looked from him to my friend.

He sat again. “A weed to some. A potent toxin to others. Few with good intentions grow it. If you brush against it with exposed skin, it’ll make you sleepy. If you drink enough of it, and it’s basically flavorless, it will kill you. It slowly builds in your body until it brings your heart to a stop.”

“Even one of the fae who heals quickly?” Reyla’s gaze sought mine, and I read stark terror there.

“Even the fae,” he said. “My assumption is that some is growing in the courtyard, and you accidentally brushed against it. Did you go outside yesterday?”

That’s right, it was the next day already. Despite all I had to do, I needed more than a short nap if I hoped to stay awake while I went after my court’s core.

“I was in the courtyard,” Reyla said slowly. “The gardens are gorgeous. I picked some flowers for my room. Kinart . . .” She struggled to swallow; her eyes shimmering. “He used to give me flowers, and they made me smile.”

Something she hadn’t done often since he died, but who could blame her?

“I’m sure that’s what happened then,” Zayde said. “I’ll look for it tomorrow and burn it. In between then, get rid of the flowers because I bet there’s willwort among them. Their blossom is bright pink.”

“I did pick pink flowers.” Reyla covered her mouth, stifling another yawn, and leaned back in her chair, her eyelids sliding closed.

“Is there an antidote or a spell that’ll diffuse the toxin?” I asked.

“Yes, but we’ll wait to see if it dissipates on its own, which it will quickly do if she’s no longer exposed to the toxin. The spell is quite complex.”

“Anything else?” I asked, and he shook his head. “Alright, then.” I rose from the sofa. “I need to go lay down.” I nodded Reyla’s way. “You too. I’ll flit you to your room.”

She sighed and got to her feet. “If you say so.”

I walked over to her and held her face again, studying her eyes and her color.

Was this due to willwort?

Or was something else going on with my friend?