Chapter Three
Tovi
Frigid raindrops slid down the bridge of Tovi Verena’s nose, and the hardened cold of her cursed homeland dug bone deep. Yet, she remained still, watchful as she hid in the shadows of an alley inside Drystan Village.
Lightning streaked across the sky, shaking the timber bones of the building she leaned against. The rainstorm didn’t deter vampyrs from venturing out, and the flash of light reflected off the sodden satin outfits and leather trench coats of the bodies hanging by the river’s dock.
Hand-painted signs dangled from their feet, listing their offenses like warnings, as if the dead bodies frozen from the Drystan cold weren’t enough to strike fear into the village.
Traitor to Prince Riven.
Princess sympathizer.
Heretic.
Tovi had inspected the faces, searched for friends and contacts she recognized, but all were foreign, each senseless death driven by paranoia.
Her gut twisted at the sight—she’d lost her insides the first time she’d witnessed the barbarity.
It didn’t matter if she didn’t know them.
Vampyrs were her subjects, those that depended on her.
And she’d failed those dragged to the gallows, let her sister’s wretched ways find themselves outside court.
Because the bodies swinging in the thunderstorm’s gusty wind had Visha written all over them, and it was her name whispered the most in the village streets and establishments.
The longer the Blood Curse remained, the crueler Visha grew.
How long did Tovi have before it wasn’t only her sister, far worse than a demon or scáth, wreaking havoc across Drystan?
A light and balanced gait clattered across the cobblestones.
A hooded figure walked up the street and weaved through the vampyrs, headed in Tovi’s direction.
No one was the wiser as they braced against the rain with heads down, but Tovi spied the shape of Yennifer’s bow.
Not far behind, another figure trailed her, and Bétar’s red beard peeked out from his hood.
Moments later, the mated couple fell into the alleyway with Tovi, and once they were farther out of sight, they dropped their hoods back.
“We’re all set,” Yen said.
“Lou?” Tovi asked.
“In position,” Bétar said.
Tovi nodded, clamping her jaw shut. Cinnamon and sugar wafted off the two werewolves, but not the scents of what they were. Bétar and Yen both wore enchanted necklaces around their necks, and for safe measure, their wrists, too.
“I hope you all didn’t start without me.”
Tovi couldn’t help it, she jumped right alongside Bétar. The Gray Fenris’s mage healer appeared beside them, as if she’d conjured from thin air.
“Linx, what in the bloody hel are you doing here?” Tovi hissed. “I thought you were still mending Todd.”
The mage healer shrugged. “Belle’s taken over that task, more than happily I might add. I also might’ve snooped in one of Nadia’s letters detailing your plan to rescue Sven, Opal, and the littles. I wasn’t going to miss out on that.”
Tovi had left the Drengr Village weeks ago to spy on her brother, Riven, intent on learning his influence in Drystan, only to discover Sven and his family were prisoners of court.
Thanks to spies and tactics of her own, Tovi discovered they were confined to rooms in the west wing.
All they had to do was sneak into the castle.
Simple, Tovi lied to herself.
Bétar shook his head, rain falling off him. “Only you could make it through the Void alone.”
“It isn’t that difficult after Tovi showed us the way,” Linx muttered. “What is the plan exactly?”
Tovi set her shoulders back and addressed Linx. “Well, Riven discovered the tunnels after we broke Evelyn out of the castle.”
“So, we’ve decided to hide in plain sight,” Yen finished.
Linx blinked. “With you’re hair, Tovi? That’s not possible. Here.” The mage sifted through her traveling sack and retrieved a vile of sparkling purple liquid. “Thank the goddess I arrived in time. This concoction should be enough for you and Sven to change your Verena hair.”
Tovi inspected the vile then Linx’s usual vibrant colored hair. “It won’t turn our hair purple, will it? I can’t say that’s any less inconspicuous.”
Linx shrugged. “Hair has a mind of its own. I can’t guarantee what it’ll be, but it’s better than what you have now.”
Tovi sighed, agreeing at that point. “Alright, thank you. Now, you’ll be most useful at the docks with Bétar.
Find a ship called the Sel and tell them the dove sent you.
No matter what happens, don’t, under any circumstance, use an explosive.
We’re to be discreet. Riven doesn’t know I’m here, and I’d like to keep it that way. ”
“Aye,” Bétar nudged Linx. “Did you hear that, mage?”
Linx sighed, rolling her eyes. “Fine.”
Tovi drew up her hood, making sure to hide her distinct hair that sheened like the Vadon Mountain’s snowfall. As she peered around the corner, she tried to dismiss a certain werewolf’s gem eyes from her thoughts.
Stay, Eldrick had asked.
Yet, she’d left. After all, Tovi had a throne to secure and kingdom to save.
The dreaded clouds that had blanketed Drystan’s sky for centuries had all started because of a Verena poisoned by love.
A bargain then a curse, and now, Riven followed in their father’s footsteps, seemingly unable to process the grief of losing his wife and child, he was willing to draw darkness all across their world to bring them back.
Tovi released a breath, letting it cloud ahead of her and mingle with the drizzle.
She refused to be like either her father or brother, but a queen, one who put her people and their well-being over everything else, even if Eldrick’s absence ached like a physical wound in Tovi’s chest. Her newfound friend, Yennifer, might as well have shot an arrow in her heart.
The wound festered, but Tovi chalked it up to a measly bruise, something that would heal in time, and with so much on the horizon, she’d be too busy to notice it.
Like now, as she readied to release Sven and his family from the imprisonment of Drystan Castle.
A covered wagon hurried down the street, yet another friend’s face concealed by their cloak and upturned hood. It slowed as it passed the alley, but at the last second, Tovi launched herself up and over into the wagon.
She shuffled on light feet, drawing farther into the back to give Yennifer room to join her inside. Linx and Bétar darted into the street, disappearing in the throngs of vampyrs as they headed towards the docks.
“How does she just appear?” Tovi whispered to Yen.
The archer shrugged. “Linx? It’s a mage thing for all I know. Unnerves Bétar to no end, something I love to tease him about.”
Tovi bit back a laugh and shook her head. A cart with an enclosed compartment awaited them. Stacked with pastries and breads and painted Verena purple, they’d borrowed it from the castle kitchens.
Yennifer sighed, peeling off her cloak, bow and arrow, and several other hidden weapons. “I don’t suppose we get this part over with.”
The werewolf opened the cart’s door and wedged herself inside first. Tovi shed her gear, too, hiding it all underneath a spare basket of baguettes. Inside, Yen eyed her with disdain.
“Whose idea was this?” the werewolf grumbled.
“Blame Lou.”
Tovi cursed as she tried to push herself inside. It was practically impossible with the both of them, but hunched over and legs entangled and seated across from each other, they made do. They jolted from side to side as the covered wagon began its ascent to the castle.
Time stretched and quickened all at once. The last time Tovi had stepped foot in the castle, she’d broken Evelyn out of it. It wasn’t lost on her that, yet again, she was saving those she loved from the clutches of her twin brother.
The clattering of the wheels changed tune, the sound of thud, thud, thud, indicated evenly laid brick instead off cobblestone. Voice resided outside, chatter and pleasantries from the front. Tovi’s heart raced inside her chest and skipped a beat as the wagon halted.
Soon, unseen, someone pushed the cart out of the wagon and into the castle.
The sounds of a kitchen echoed around them.
Clanking spoons. Banging pots. Chopping knives.
Servant chatter. Next, music played, presumably from the ballroom.
Court laugher filtered from afar. Eventually, it was only the squeaking wheels of the cart and Tovi’s rattling bones that she heard.
After the sensation of climbing stilled, keys rustled—another “borrowed” item they’d secured—and the cart entered a warmer room with a fire crackling close by.
“Cake!” children’s voices screeched, and it took all of Tovi’s willpower to not burst from the cart and embrace her niece and nephew.
What if someone they didn’t trust sat inside the room, too? What if it wasn’t Lou pushing the cart? Tovi held her breath, counting to keep her nerves steady—
The door burst open, and Lou’s red-framed glasses came into view. “You two look splendidly comfortable.”
Yennifer exhaled. “Moons, I can’t believe this worked.”
The archer climbed out first, and Tovi caught the distinct exclamation “weeful” from Bryn. As she emerged next, the children ran into her legs, screaming, “Auntie!” All the adults encouraged them to be quiet with a direct, “Shhh,” and Juni frowned.
Tovi spied Sven and Opal across the room. “Are you both ready?”
Sven, her younger brother with cropped hair, nodded. “Yes.”
Tovi sighed and squatted to Juni and Bryn’s level. “Will you play a game with me?”
They nodded, their too-wide eyes studied her with excitement, innocence, and nerves.
Tovi dropped her voice into a playful whisper. “We’re going on an adventure, but you both must remain silent.”
“The quiet game!” Juni said.
Opal rushed to the children. “Yes, my loves. We’re all going to play together, and after, we’ll have a slice a cake. How does that sound?”
With mouths clamped shut, Juni and Bryn nodded fervently.