“Wait,” I say. “There are some things you should know first.”
He stops and turns around to face me.
“A mining sickness is sweeping the land,” I tell him. “Miners are dying, and the metals are disappearing.”
“What?” Viridian steps forward. “How did you learn this?”
“I heard about the sickness before I left home. Miners my father works with—well, used to work with—were falling ill and dying every day.” I wrap my arms around myself. Worry for my father and Acantha tightens my chest. Not knowing how they are—if they’re well, or if they’re safe—eats me up inside.
He reaches for me, cupping my elbow. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“How could you?” I ask. My voice sounds empty, but not bitter.
“I should have made it a priority to find out.” Viridian’s resolve takes hold on his face.
My eyes find his, and he holds my gaze. I believe him.
“As for the metals disappearing,” I continue, looking away, “I overheard the High King speaking with some Heads of House.”
Viridian’s eyes widen. “This should have been discussed with the council.”
“The High King said he would discuss it with the council,” I say, recalling what I heard. “Did he not?”
“No.” Viridian’s anger returns to his expression. “He did not.”
“Do you… Do you think it’s all connected to the dark magic?” I ask.
“I don’t know.” Viridian seems to sink deeper into himself. “It’s entirely possible.”
My heart rises to my throat. If they are all connected, that means whatever dark magic has its hold over the High King is the same dark magic that’s killing miners. The same dark magic that puts our livelihood at risk. That threatens my father’s life.
Now, there is so much more at stake.
And I’m just as desperate for the truth as Viridian.
He must know it, because he gestures for me to follow him again. “Come. Let’s see Myrdin and Lymseia.”
“You were in the East Tower?” Lymseia’s eyebrows rise. “You know it’s forbidden. Mischief, rule-breaking… I thought I might see this from you,” she says, pointing a finger at me, “but not from you, Viridian Avanos.”
“Lymseia!” Myrdin gasps. “You cannot speak like that to—”
“I don’t care who he is,” Lymseia snaps, jabbing a finger into Viridian’s chest. “He disobeyed the High King.”
Myrdin opens his mouth.
“Enough,” Viridian bellows, power rippling from him. “I went into the East Tower. That’s the end of it.”
Lymseia clamps her mouth shut, annoyance brewing in her eyes and clear on her face.
“I take it that’s part of the reason you called us here,” Myrdin says, keeping his voice even.
“Yes. Cryssa and I are leaving High Keep,” Viridian says, like it’s non-negotiable. “Tonight.”
“What?” Lymseia’s voice cracks like a whip.
“It won’t be for long,” Viridian explains, holding up his palms. “A day or two at most.”
“Why?” Lymseia crosses her arms, her upper body rigid. “You owe us that.”