Page 9 of Court of Bone and Amethyst

Ifwedo.

By now, Avonia’s forces will no doubt be spread across all of Valaron, hunting the escaped queen and her guardian. I wish I could hide Sarielle away somewhere until all of this has passed. Taking her on the open road seems like lowering ourselves into a dragon’s jaws. But I know the northern wilderness better than anyone, its valleys and bogs and ice plains and magic. If anyone can travel undetected across the north, it’s me.

I suggested to Sarielle that she rest through the afternoon, since tonight we’ll be riding hard. If we cover good ground for three days, we’ll be beyond most of the cities and towns and into wildlands that can hide us better. If we can make it that far without incident, our chances of reaching the Court of Memory are vastly improved.

When we meet in the dining room for dinner, Sarielle looks not only refreshed, but resplendent. My eyes meet hers as she approaches the table across from me. She’s wearing a simple dress in the style of Tor Tyrnien, bright turquoise silk gathered at one shoulder, leaving the other bare. The fabric cascades to the floor, hugging her body slightly. But what catches my eyes most is her hair, which has gone from silvery to darkest midnight. She has it pinned above her head, strands of it loose around her face. One of the servants must have dyed it for her, a disguise for the road.

It’s hard to believe that a few hours ago, she was holding her own in our sparring session. She looks so fragile at times, and other times so fierce she could burn the whole world.

I get up and pull her chair out for her, which earns me a puzzled sideways glance. Naryo sits at the head of the long table, and he rises and offers her a small bow also. Her cheeks blush slightly as she takes her seat, settling her silks about her. A servant steps forward and pours us all wine, a pale varietal with just the barest touch of pink. It sparkles faintly in the lights of the candles dotted around the room.

“I trust you rested well, Highness?” Naryo asks Sarielle.

Her blush deepens. “Yes. But please… no need for formalities.”

“Well, it’s not often—and by not often, I mean never—that I have a queen at my dinner table.” Naryo lifts his wine glass for a toast. “If we can’t toast to that, then I will simply toast to delightful company and very old friends.”

I raise my glass, and after a moment’s hesitation, Sarielle raises hers as well. Then we drink, and we feast. Whether it’s because of the aforementioned royalty visiting, or perhaps because this could be the last good meal we ever enjoy, Naryo has had a sumptuous meal prepared, consisting of many courses. Rich soups, savory cheeses, multiple varieties ofvegetables and meat, fresh-baked bread, and for dessert, a cake so decadent I can only eat a single bite.

“You’ve outdone yourself, friend,” I say as we finish up. “It’s a good thing we’re hitting the saddle soon, so I can work off that meal.”

Naryo chuckles. “You guardians are so austere. But even you deserve a bit of luxury from time to time.”

“I’ve never had such a meal,” Sarielle says softly. “At the Amethyst Palace, we were served simple fare, and warned not to overindulge.” Her eyes glow. “It was wonderful, thank you.”

“You will have many feasts far more glorious than this in your future,” Naryo says with a smile and a bow of his head.

“Speaking of our future,” I say, “We must be getting on our way. The sun has set, so we can make a quiet and unobserved escape from Tor Tyrnien.”

Naryo’s smile dims, and he nods. “I’ll have my staff bridle the horses.”

Sarielle and I make our way back to our room. I wait outside while she changes into attire more suitable for the road: breeches, boots, a tunic, and a long, dark cloak. I provide her with two daggers as well, strapped to the outsides of her thighs.

“Are you ready?” I ask when she opens the door.

She nods, face serious. We both know, the moment we step outside that door, we’ll be hunted once again.

We make our way to the stable on the far side of Naryo’s compound, which has its own entrance onto a side street perpendicular to the main road by which we’d arrived. Naryo is already waiting for us, as well as two servants who hold the horses ready. I check the girths on the saddles and the straps on the bridles to make sure everything is tightened properly. With a nod, I turn to Naryo. “Thank you for your hospitality, and for the risk you took in helping us.”

Sarielle echoes her own thanks.

“You are like family, Zyren,” Naryo says, resting a hand on my shoulder. “No thanks is necessary.”

I nod and smile, though it’s a grim smile with the touch of a goodbye.

“I will find those who escaped Selaye and send word to rally at Valor’s Keep,” Naryo continues. “When the time comes, they’ll be waiting for you.” He sweeps his gaze from me to Sarielle. A small smile lights his face. “Travel well and take care of each other. Zyren may seem hard as steel to the core, but he needs someone to watch out for him just as he watches over others.”

Sarielle nods, returning the smile. She takes the reins of her horse, and I take mine, and the servant swings open the external door. Night and lamplight from the alley beyond swirl around us. I reach over and pull the hood of Sarielle’s cloak up over her new inky locks of hair. My knuckle brushes her cheekbone, and a shiver moves over her. Our gazes meet for one long moment.

“May the dark goddess watch over you,” Naryo says. “Until we meet again, my friend.”

We mount up and turn the horses around for a final wave of farewell.

And then we begin the perilous journey north.

Chapter Seven

Sarielle

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