Page 102 of Rise of the Phoenix King (Crown and Crest 4)

Pranmore steps up. “I will.”

“You’d be dead outside the gatehouse if it weren’t for me,” Clover argues. “I’m not leaving you. We go together or not at all.”

Bartholomew nods. “It was the four of us in the beginning, Henrik. Traipsing in the Dorian mountains, stumbling on the gnomes, and finding the illicit mining operation. We need to finish it as a group.”

I study them for several seconds, shaking my head. And then I realize they’ll follow me anyway. Whether I like it or not, these three will always have my back.

“All right,” I agree, silently vowing I’ll keep them safe. “Let’s go.”

25

HENRIK

We pauseoutside the throne room, staring at the elaborate phoenix that adorns the pair of doors. If the trail of bodies is any indication, this is where Camellia waits.

“I don’t know what we’re going to find inside,” I tell the group. “Take a moment to prepare yourselves.”

Clover holds my hand and squeezes it tightly. Then she draws in a deep breath and nocks an arrow into her bow. “I’m ready.”

Bartholomew grips his sword, his fingers straining against the hilt. “I am too.”

Pranmore is calm, serene almost. “I’m glad you three are with me. It will give me strength.”

“Can you do it?” I ask him. “Can you send her back?”

He looks almost resigned. “I will.”

“What do you need us to do?” I ask.

“What I’m planning requires physical touch.”

Clover frowns. “Will you be able to handle that?”

“I have no choice.”

“We’ll do everything we can to make your task easier,” I say.

Pranmore gives me a solemn nod. With a deep breath, I set my hand on the handle and pull the door open.

And there she is.

The undead princess sits upon Lawrence’s throne, a stolen crown atop her head. Her black hair tumbles around her shoulders, and a diamond-white cloak flows around her feet like a robe of freshly fallen snow.

Camellia’s ruby lips curve into a pleased smile as we step into the room. “I was hoping you would be the one to find me, Henrik.”

Her eyes move to the others, narrowing slightly.

“Ghosts always return to the place they died,” Clover mutters. “How long have you been in the castle, Camellia?”

The princess’s smile grows. “Since I returned from Heistone.”

“Where have you been hiding?” I demand.

“My quarters.” She laughs. “Strange no one thought to look for me there.”

“Ah,” Pranmore says as if suddenly understanding. “I couldn’t sense you over the lingering stench. That’s clever.”

“Is it truly her?” I ask Pranmore.

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