Jenna Helland - The Fanged Crown

“Boult would be most disappointed,” Harp agreed. “It’s all right that Liel killed him and not you, right?”

“Oh yes,” Boult said. “It just feels right, don’t you think?”

“I’m going to give him a chance to save himself,” Liel said quietly.

“What?” Boult sputtered. “You can’t be serious.”

“Tell us what we need to know, and I’ll save you,” Liel promised Cardew.

“Of all the idiotic …” Boult began.

“Just let Liel talk to him,” Harp put a restraining hand on the dwarf’s shoulder. “Go look for the elixir, why don’t you?”

“Why don’t you look for the elixir?” Boult said stomping off to the debris pile. “There’s no reason in the infinite heavens to let that dog live.”

“What is Tresco planning?” Liel asked.

“Overthrow Anais and put Ysabel on the throne,” Cardew whispered.

“We know that already!” Boult yelled from across the room.

“Why did he say that Ysabel had forsaken you?” Liel asked.

“Somehow she figured out what we were doing in the jungle. It disgusted her. I disgusted her.”

“You disgust everyone,” Boult yelled again, kicking chunks of the guardian’s flesh around on the floor as he searched for the vial.

“If Tresco finds out how much she knows, he’ll kill her,” Cardew moaned. “You have to protect her. She’s an innocent in all of his plans.”

“Did Tresco mastermind the Children’s Massacre?” Harp demanded.

“I don’t know,” Cardew said. “He must have been involved … But I don’t know.”

“Where is Ysabel?” Liel asked.

“At Kinnard Keep. She’s been in Tresco’s care since the massacre,” Cardew whispered.

“Does Tresco know about the elixir?” Liel asked.

“What elixir?” Cardew rasped. His breathing was labored, and blood seeped out from under his body, staining the dusty floor.

“The elixir I have,” Boult said triumphantly, holding up the slimy, though unbroken, vial of blood. “Safe under Shristisanti.”

“Poor Verran,” Harp said as he watched Boult slipped the elixir into his pack.

“He was one, you know,” Kitto said. “A warlock. I saw the marks on his back when I pulled out the glass. They looked like brands.”

“So he made the pact,” Harp said sadly. “Just like his father.”

“But he wasn’t all bad,” Kitto said. “He just didn’t know what to do.”

“I need to get the elixir back to the dwarves,” Boult said, covering Verran’s body with a cloak. “I need to find out if Majida is all right.”

“And we need to get to Tethyr and help Ysabel,” Harp said.

“Can you reopen a portal?” Harp asked Liel.

“Only with the scroll,” she explained.

“The spell scroll in the colony,” Boult reminded them. “I left it under the floorboards in the hut.”

“I know where you’re talking about,” Liel said. “But we’ll have to get back there fast.”

“Are you sure you want to split up?” Harp asked Boult.

“I have to get the blood back to the Domain,” Boult said urgently. “It’s the only place it’s safe.”

“Do you want me to go with you?” Kitto asked Boult.

“We need you,” Harp told Kitto. “We’ll probably have to fight Tresco while he’s wearing the Torque.”

“Which means that Liel won’t be able to use her magic,” Kitto pointed out. “If that happens, I won’t be able to do much.”

“Hit him on the head with a rock and steal the Torque?” Harp said after a moment.

“It’s so stupid that it’s brilliant,” Kitto grinned faintly. “You’ve really outdone yourself, Harp.”

“That’s Captain Harp to you, sailor,” Harp grinned back at him.

“What are you going to do about Cardew?” Boult asked Liel.

“I don’t know,” Liel said helplessly. “I guess I’ll heal him and take him back to Queen Anais. Let her decide what to do with him.”

“He can tell her what Tresco has been doing in Chult,” Harp pointed out. “What do you think, Boult?”

Boult hesitated. “I’ve wanted him to suffer for so long. I wanted him to die as painfully as possible. And now that the moment’s here, I just don’t care.”

“All right, we’ll let Queen Anais decide,” Harp agreed.

But Kitto stepped forward and calmly shoved his sword into the base of Cardew’s throat. Cardew opened his mouth in surprise, but no words came. Kitto pulled his sword out, and blood welled out of the wound, flowed down Cardew’s neck and chest, and stained his snow-white shirt. In the time it took for the others to comprehend what had happened, Cardew was dead.

“He tried to kill Liel,” Kitto said unapologetically. “He framed Boult. He tortured Harp. What about what he did to me? The Branch of Linden owned Captain Predeau. Their coin kept him going. He treated me like a slave and nearly beat me to death. If you weren’t going to kill him for yourselves, then he was going to die for me.”

“All right, fine with me,” Harp told him without hesitation.

“Good riddance,” Boult agreed.

“I have an idea, Boult,” Harp said as they prepared to climb up the ropes that had been left by Tresco’s men. “Instead of Tethyr, let’s meet on the Moonshae Isles.”

“The cove?” Liel asked as a huge smile spread across Kitto’s face. “Does Boult know about the safe haven?”

“Harp’s talked about it so damn much, I could find it in my sleep,” Boult said. “How long do you think it will take you to reach Ysabel?”

“As long as it takes to get to the camp and open the portal,” Harp answered.

“Try to make it fast,” Boult urged them. “You have to get to her before Tresco does.”

“We’ll hurry,” Liel promised.

“Safe home, then,” said Harp, extending his hand to Boult, who clasped it warmly.

“Safe home, brother,” Boult replied.

Hello, Ysabel,” Tresco said as he stepped through the door and into the warm air of the atrium. The glass atrium was on the western side of Kinnard Keep, and Ysabel insisted that the gardeners keep flowers blooming all year round, especially in the cold winter months when the outside gardens were barren and lifeless.

Surrounded by jade plants and hanging baskets, Ysabel sat at a stone table near an ornamental tree blooming with crimson flowers. She wore a light blue dress with white embroidery down the sides, and her hair was pulled back in a loose braid. The leather-bound book on the marble tabletop looked vaguely familiar—probably one from Tresco’s library—but she wasn’t reading when he opened the door. Instead, she’d been staring out at the windswept heath through the condensation on the glass panes.

“Good day, Uncle,” she said politely, her hands resting demurely in her lap. “Are you back from your business so soon?”

“Yes.” Tresco set a leather case on the table in front of her. “I returned yesterday afternoon, but the servants said you had already retired to your quarters, and I didn’t care to trouble you.”

“Is Master Cardew with you?” she asked, glancing at the case and then up at Tresco.

“He is not,” Tresco answered. “Am I to understand that the two of you quarreled?”

“It was merely a trifle, Uncle,” she replied. “Please sit and tell me about your journey.”

“Why do you sit in the atrium? You know it’s the least protected room in the castle. And where are your guards?”

“They are merely out of sight,” Ysabel replied obliquely.

“That is not acceptable,” Tresco fumed. “They have orders to guard you at all times …”