Page 84 of An Archer's Reckoning

“What is it, Danai? You’re hovering.”

She’d become sosharplately.

“May I join you?”

She eyed me a moment, then nodded and poured me a small measure of brandy. I noted how much less she gave me than her original pour, then watched as she drained the bottle into her own glass, filling it past spilling. She raised the glass to her lips andslurpedthe liquid until the danger was gone.

Isabelneverslurped.

She was the very picture of a regal presence, a rigidity that often chafed against her daughter’s rebellious nature.

“Our plans progress well.”

“But?”

I sighed. “But, their Mages—”

“What of them?”

“I am powerful. You know this. I can easily best any single Melucian Mage—perhaps even four or five at once—but they have nearly ten times our number, and their tower—”

She waved a hand and took another long sip. “I will handle the tower and their Mages.”

“Your Majesty . . .Isabel.” I gaped. “I know your Fire has strengthened, but it is not powerful enough to stand against dozens of Mages, especially with the tower strengthening them.”

I tried to keep the derision out of my voice but didn’t quite succeed. She glanced up from her glass, her eyes swirling with a disquieting crimson.

“You know the purpose of the sacrifices, Danai? I am Isabel no more. That pitiful fool would never have been able to handle more than a few of their number, but I am not that writhing worm of a queen. Everyone will soon taste the breadth of my power.”

I shuddered.

No longer Isabel?

Had the spirit of Irina truly supplanted Isabel?

Was such a thing possible?

Of course, I knew the purpose of the sacrifices and the Children’s ceremony. It had been my life’s mission for nearly a thousand years, but never had I thought Irina could consume another’s soul.

So many things suddenly made sense.

Her anger that never seemed to ebb.

The way she dispatched the High Sheriff, a man so loyal to the Crown he would have died a hundred times before seeing harm come to her.

The way her eyes swam in blood, the white having fled following Irina’s return.

Bringing Irina back was supposed to . . . what? Reunite lovers separated by time? I longed for her embrace, yet we had never been so close as that.

Had I fooled myself into thinking her return might change things between us? That she might see how long I had striven, how hard I had fought in her name? And what? She would love me?

With all my wisdom, was I truly such a fool?

Nothing made sense anymore.

Yet it all made sense.

What have I done?

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