Chapter 27 #2
On the other hand, if I returned to Vantillios now, wouldn’t I be dooming the entire kingdom to face a precarious future?
I’d been so worried about winning my own freedom and bolstering my reputation that I hadn’t given much thought to what would happen to Vantillios if things continued the way they were.
What kind of kingdom would be left for me to rule?
By removing the constraints keeping us isolated and caged, the kingdom could heal. It would be a slow process, but, eventually, it would return to its former glory. And it would all be thanks to me.
Was it worth the gamble? Perhaps it was when the odds were looking to be in my favor.
“Wait,” I said.
She canted her head. “I’m listening.”
I took a deep breath. “I will agree to your terms. If you can get the potion to me now.”
I could hear the smile in her voice as she said, “Consider it done. After you say the magic words, of course. Repeat after me, ‘Bound by name, I accept this amended bargain, to its terms I shall be beholden.’”
Squeezing my eyes shut and swallowing hard, I repeated the words that might be my undoing, then released a shuddering breath.
“Your potion is on its way,” she said gleefully.
Almost instantly, I heard a tapping against the window pane behind me. Pulling the drapes open, I recoiled at the sight that greeted me.
A crow hovered outside. The unmistakable vial of potion was clutched in its talons.
Something about it looked off. Then I realized: there were punctures in its body and legs.
Some feathers were missing from its disheveled plumage.
It looked as though it had been attacked by a cat, and yet its black eyes remained hollow and lifeless.
There was definitely something off about this bird.
I opened the window and the stench of death and decay filled the room. Covering my mouth and nose with one hand, I held the other out to the bird. Obediently, it released the potion into my open palm. Then the life fluttered out of its eyes, and it collapsed to the ground.
Jumping back, I covered my scream. “Is it… dead?” I croaked.
“Yes, but I wouldn’t worry too much about him. He’s served his purpose now,” she said with cold indifference.
My stomach turned. Still, I opened the vial and sipped the potion. The familiar heat and tingling sensation spread through my body. Relief shortly followed.
“If that’s all,” said the Crow as she began to evaporate, growing more translucent by the second.
“Wait!” I called. I had an idea.
“Yes?”
My next words would have to be phrased carefully. If I said the wrong thing, there was no predicting how she would react. “There’s been a murder and an attack at the castle. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”
She laced her fingers together once more. “Interesting… and why would I know anything about the affairs of mortals?”
“Because…” I toyed with my charm bracelet, running my fingers over the golden bear. “I think a witch might be responsible.”
I recounted everything that had happened, leaving out the part about the note the murderer had written—she didn’t need to know that someone had somehow discovered my identity.
After I finished speaking, she was quiet and unnaturally still. It was maddening, not being able to read the expression on her face.
Finally, she spoke. “What you describe aligns with the practices of dark magic. It seems to me that the body of the mortal was marked in preparation for something.”
I felt a quiver right down to my toes. Dark magic was the name given to the most vile and unthinkable spells, potions and rituals that were expressly forbidden in all corners of Orradon. The Crow was well-versed in dark magic—the necromanced bird was evidence of this.
“So, this has nothing to do with you?”
She scoffed. “I have told you, child, I cannot step foot in the kingdom of Solvardunn. If I do so, I will perish.”
“That doesn’t mean you can’t compel someone else to do your bidding,” I pressed.
To my surprise, she cackled. “I cannot compel anyone to act against their will. Only one has ever possessed that kind of power.” The Great Deceiver.
“Would you swear it? On our agreement?” I knew I was pushing it.
“Have I not done enough for you already?” she asked, sounding amused.
“Please? Think of it as a gesture of good faith.”
She hummed while she considered. “Very well. In good faith, I shall do as you ask. I did not murder the mortal or attack the prince, nor did I compel anyone to do so on my behalf. This I swear on our agreement.”
The tightness in my jaw relaxed a fraction. “Do you know of anyone who might be responsible?”
Hands behind her back, she took a few slow steps around the room. “I know of a witch in the kingdom. The one who is responsible for the wards.”
My eyes tracked her every movement. They followed her to the still life of the daffodil on the wall. “What can you tell me about them?”
She examined the painting as she said, “She goes by the name of Basia. She has resided in this kingdom for centuries.”
I began to pace. “Do you think this Basia might be the murderer?”
“Perhaps. Perhaps not.” She lifted a shoulder. “Either way, there is little that goes on in this kingdom without her knowledge. Seek her out and you will find the answers to your questions. I’m certain of it.”
I watched the Crow cross the space to the breakfast table. She studied the various pieces of parchment on the floor, including, to my annoyance, my note to Tarben. “Interesting,” she said as if talking to herself.
“Where can I find her?” I asked, ignoring her remark.
“Could it be that the mortal is not alone in his affections?” she asked in a mocking voice.
“Where can I find her?” I repeated, my voice taut.
Another shrill cackle. “There is a forest near this castle. She lives in a clearing in the deepest part of the woods. Follow the holly trees, they will lead you to her.” Once more, her figure began to fade.
“Can’t you tell me anything more?” I implored, desperate for her to keep talking.
“I’m certain I could, but I have given you much of my time already. I’ll return the moment the full moon can be glimpsed in the night sky. Until then…”
“Wait—”
Like an assassin in the shadows, she was gone.