Page 390 of Heat of the Everflame

Doriel hummed. “Lucky, indeed.”

I was forced to grab a railing to stay upright as we shot through the choppy waves. Like all boats in Sophos, this one was powered by their spark magic, designed to zip across the sea at breakneck speeds. The Crowns’ boats were infused with the same power—coronation gifts from a past Sophos Crown to enable the monarchs to get to Coeurîle for rituals more quickly.

“Did your mother confirm the rebels will allow us on the island without any violence?” Doriel asked. “I took a great risk in assuring the other Crowns they would not be harmed.”

My insides twisted. I had no idea what the mortals would do when we arrived. If my mother’s messenger hawks hadn’t made it to them—or if they decided not to honor her command—I could be leading the Crowns into a bloodbath.

Again.

I smiled brightly. “Everything’s taken care of,” I lied. “The Crowns will be safe. Though if they don’t pardon my mother, it may be the last time we ever get through.”

Doriel’s lips pressed tight in silent response.

“How’s your research?” I prodded. “Find anything interesting about Ophiucae or Omnos?”

Their eyes ran over me, pausing on the ten-pointed star at my throat. “When we spoke before, you offered a bonded bargain to kill him. Are you still willing to agree to that?”

I tensed and tightened my scarf to hide the mark. “After the battle, I would hope you trust me enough to keep my word.”

“Even if I do, the other Crowns may not. It could go a long way for them to see that you’re willing to put your magic on the line.”

They reached into their jacket and pulled out a small blade. It was gilded and fanciful, as most Descended creations were. Covered in flourishes, and the gold had a hint of copper in its hue.

A beautiful weapon.

Afamiliarweapon.

Instantly, I was right back in my family’s cottage on the marsh. The Sophos magic painted the scene in elaborate detail, only it wasn’t the warm fire of the hearth or my parents’ laughter that greeted me—it was a sea of red and the foul odor of death.

It was my father’s corpse, his brown eyes fixed in an unseeing stare.

It was a blood-soaked blade in his chest, its blackwood handle inlaid with blush-colored gemstones and engraved with copper swirls.

And although the dagger in Doriel’s hands had a hilt of ivory, not wood, the rest of the design was unmistakablyidentical.

Blood rushed to my head, spotting my vision.

“Is something wrong?” Doriel asked.

“Y-your knife. It’s very... unusual,” I stammered.

They looked mildly abashed. “Ah, yes. I know the rule—no weapons on the island except the ritual dagger. Don’t worry, it won’t leave the boat.”

“Where did you get it?” I asked, breathless.

“It was a coronation gift. From your late King Ulther, in fact.” They twisted it in their hand, the late afternoon sun glinting off the jewels. “I’m not much a fan of weapons, really, but it is a lovely p—”

“When’s the last time you were in Lumnos?” I blurted out.

Doriel frowned. “It’s been many years. Why?”

No Umbros magic tingle.Not a lie.

So Doriel wasn’t there the day my father was murdered. But their representatives were—House Benette had invited them to stay after the ball.

House Benette... the same House I’d angered the day he was killed.

Shadows swirled at my palms.

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