Chapter 24
The highlight of my morning was sitting in Kier’s lap while he indulgently fed me soft, custard-filled petals of bread. After that, everything went to shit.
Panic had spread from the capital along the high road through the Bluescale Court. I’d expected trouble, but I didn’t think riots would break out overnight. Or that pitchfork-wielding farmers and goblins with placards would be making their way to the capital in protest of their new ally.
Bluescale goblins didn’t claim a ruler who had to take their title by force; this wasn’t Greenheart where halflings were hunted for sport, humans were food, and anyone was fair game to be murdered.
Bluescale were civilised people of diplomacy and democracy, at least according to Xiona’s early morning rant.
Now, I lounged on one of the low sofas in the courtyard, with my feet propped on Ryvan’s lap, mostly to annoy him, and my attention on Jakoda as she embarked on her own rant about Jyrard locking up his own mother in the castle’s tower.
Needless to say, we wouldn’t be performing in Greenheart again any time soon.
Or even in this court. Almost every remaining town was on lockdown, including Lazankh.
And the cherry on top? Odele’s network had sent a hurried missive about a distinctly army-shaped group marching across the foothills away from the capital.
In our direction. Because of course they were coming for our home next.
Kier was the only person who stood between Jyrard and Cleodora—Clyrard as Aerona had been calling them because, and I quote, it sounds like a sexual disease—and total domination.
The only threat, unless you counted little ol’ prophesied me.
I still didn’t know how a queen could be stupid enough to believe an ancient bit of paper just because it said Kier and I would rule the entire goblin lands.
If I found a page ripped out of a story about a frog becoming king and the next day happened to find a frog hopping its way down Lazankh’s streets, I’d still know it was bullshit.
All that power must have rotted her brain.
And yet despite the growing threat, and the nearing army, Kier wouldn’t entertain using his power over fog, or unleashing the Haar. Too dangerous, he’d said when I pressed him about it. He rushed off to an emergency meeting before I could properly needle him.
“You’re an angel,” I said as Calanthe set a steaming cup of dark liquid in front of me. “I am in love with you, don’t tell Kier.”
She snorted, batting at my shoulder as she ducked away to return to the kitchens where rations were being prepared, just in case.
“He’s a prick,” Cherish spat, her ass hitting the sofa between Ryvan and I with all the force of a bomb. I yanked my legs back before she could land on them, not keen to add a broken bone to the mix.
“Who?” Ryvan asked, patting her hair in a way that was more intended to annoy than comfort.
“Allenon,” she spat, her upper lip curled, sharp teeth bared.
I did a quick sweep of the room and frowned when I found it absent of Hames.
Sure, we were her friends and would promise to gut Allenon in a second if he’d said something sleazy to Cherish, but we didn’t make her feel safe.
Hames did. He was to her what Kier was to me.
That didn’t stop me slinging my arm over her shoulder and cosying up to her hip. “Want me to cut his throat for you?”
“No,” she sighed. Heavily. “He just lost the man he loves, so he probably deserves some grace.”
“Depends on what he did,” Jakoda said, eyes sharp on Cherish and her rant abandoned.
“Nothing.” Cherish sighed again. Clearly it wasn’t nothing. “He just knew me before. And isn’t shy about reminding me of that.”
I took her face in my hands, my hands as freckled as her face but with completely different skintones. I squished her cheeks until her mouth parted and shaped itself into something fish-like. Annoyance tightened her eyes, but there was amusement too.
“Say the word, my darling, and I’ll find a non-lethal way to make him pay. You’re our Cherish, and no one gets away with upsetting you.”
Her eyes flattened even more. She was smiling though, with her fish-mouth. I gave her a smooch on the forehead and let go.
“One word,” I promised, “and he’s toast.”
“I have ideas,” Ryvan said with a glint in his eyes.
“Mine are better,” Aerona interrupted, stalking across the room and sitting on the coffee table. “So, we find that pink flower that makes you itch like crazy, and let’s say somehow it makes it into his laundry when he’s washing his smallthings…”
I snorted, reaching for my comfort blanket—the sword we borrowed from Gaia’s mausoleum. Okay, stole. My fingers touched the fabric of the sofa arm, a furrow forming between my brow. I fumbled around. I’d leant it against the arm; it was right here literally a minute ago.
I leaned over to see where it had fallen to and froze.
“Where’s my sword?” I whispered. Panic gathered so much speed and force that I couldn’t breathe. “I need it.” I pinned a glare on every last one of my friends. “If this is a prank, stop fucking around, where is it?”
“We don’t have it, Letta,” Ryvan said with a frown that matched mine.
He jumped up to search the space beside the sofa, sweeping his arm underneath like it had just slid away.
My heart began to race, cold sweat gathering between my shoulder blades, and now Cherish was the one holding me, rubbing up and down my arm.
“It was right there,” I insisted, breaking away to rush to my feet, jittery and electrified. Where was it? I needed the sword; touching it was the only thing keeping me free and sane. Without it, I was vulnerable. Without it, I was hers.
“Letta,” Ryvan said, looking up at me with a taut expression.
I shook my head, denying it before he’d even finished. I held up my hand. “Don’t.”
“It’s gone.”