Page 245 of What Lies Within Blood & Heirs

She expected blood. Pained grunts and wails. But nothing came. Because as Silas pressed forward, his bodyfadedthrough the blade like Alora’s spear in the arena. Through Thalon’s body entirely until they stood back to back.

Silas disturbed the ends of his jacket and slipped his hand inside, but it was Aiden who stepped forward and offered the sharp edge of his sword. Again, the spymaster tilted his head and rolled his eyes to the blood-splattered ceiling.

Something glistened in his palm as he pulled his hand out. Not a dagger. Not a sword. No weapon of any kind …

No.No that … thatwasa weapon. A very,verydangerous one.

“Your Highness,” Silas drawled as he outstretched his hand, slapping Aiden’s sword from his face like a nightbug. “My sincerest apologies for the delay.”

Alora watched as the spymaster bent at his waist and bowed, extending that crimson gemstone to her mate’s hand.

Blood.

The thing they had come to find. Blood was there.

Being offered by the hand of their enemy.

Thalon circled the spymaster, flanking Aiden. “You’re helping us?” he snarled.

Silas smirked. “Not just a brute, I see. There truly are brains in there.” Then turned to Garrik and said, “You must take the pass. I have sent the High Guard away.” His attention slipped to Kadamar’s eldest male heir, barely breathing. “Ezander cannot stay. Ladomyr sent word to Galdheir nights ago. He was to be stripped of his power and magic-washed. His fate is sealed if he remains.”

But Erissa… What if Kadamar’s magic chooses Ezander?Alora thought to herself.

Garrik answered what they were all perhaps thinking. “Magnelis will slaughter him even if he is crowned king.”

“Yes,” Silas agreed, face grim. “Sire. My spies are working to intercept word of our treason to Galdheir. But I’m afraid…” And shook his head.

Garrik nodded, a look of devastated knowing in his eyes. “Thank you, my spymaster.”

Shouts and heavy bootfalls echoed up the corridor.

Ezander’s arm was around Thalon’s shoulder a heartbeat later, while Aiden shifted to a window, scanning outside with Jade in his arms. Garrik lifted Alora to his chest, sword in his other hand.

“Your Highness, you must go.” Silas backed to a wall, splaying his palm on the blood and wood and paint. Like steam manipulating the air on a summer’s day, the wall wavered, producing a portal-like distortion of a door. “Take the tunnels to the lower towns. Your horses are waiting with my surveillant to guide you through the pass.”

Thalon towered over Silas. “We’ll go to Tarrent-Garren Keep, and once our magic is returned, collect camp and seek out Lir?—”

Garrik shot him a glare, silencing him.

The shouting worsened, drawing closer.

Garrik surged forward. “We need to move.”

“Wait,” Silas blurted and slipped a black ring from his finger before tossing it to Garrik, who expertly caught it and slipped it home. “My deepest regrets, Your Highness, for causing you pain at the Cullings. I had little choice.”

But Garrik shook his head. “You secured the shield over the legion and all else, spymaster. Remorse is unnecessary.”

Silas dipped his head, then spoke to Alora, “And to you, Your Highness. If there was any other way, no harm would have come to you. Though my eyes are always watching, Ladomyr’s ears trail me. It was never safe.”

“Another time, Silas.” Garrik motioned for Aiden to slip through Silas’sfade. Then said to the spymaster, his voice a quality of teasing, “Do not allow Kadamar’s spymaster to find you out.”

A dark laugh. Like something of a joke between them.

With new amusement in his golden eyes, Thalon glided through the fade and turned back. “Spymaster.”

Silas smiled, cynical and bloodthirsty. “Barbarian.”

“Until we meet again,” Garrik said and crossed the fade.

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