The Queen's Price

EIGHT

“Here,” Titian said. “Let me do that.”

Zoey stopped struggling to close her dress and turned around so that Titian could do up the buttons in the back. “I’m so nervous. Are you nervous? This has to be about the spell that went wrong, although I still don’t know what went wrong. What if we’re expelled? Grandmother always made sure I had good teachers—except she didn’t know about some things that were going on at the school in Amdarh because I didn’t appreciate that it was more than not getting along with Delora and her friends, so I didn’t say anything to her—but I’m learning so much here. Has Daemonar found out anything? Would he tell you?”

“All Daemonar knows is that the seven of us who tried that spell and the five Warlord Princes are to report right after sunset,” Titian replied. “Uncle Daemon didn’t say anything else.”

Zoey didn’t want to leave the Hall. She really didn’t. She had the same small group of friends that she’d had at the school in Amdarh, but everything felt different here. She felt different here. Maybe trying some of the spells in that Craft notebook she’d found tucked behind some books in one of the Hall’s libraries hadn’t been her best idea—not without checking with Prince Sadi first—but something about seeing that handwritten page had made her feel bold. Feel daring. But not reckless. They’d obviously made a mistake, but they hadn’t been reckless.

Still, she should have been the one who told Prince Sadi that they’d broken a wall instead of letting Daemonar go in her place. She was a Queen after all. How could she stand up for her people if she wouldn’t stand up for herself and accept the consequences of her own actions?

“There,” Titian said, doing up the last button, and pressed a kiss against Zoey’s cheek. “We’ll get a scolding, but it will be all right. Uncle Daemon won’t tell you to leave. He won’t.”

Taking Titian’s hand, she really hoped her friend was right.

They all followed Daemonar since he seemed to know where they were supposed to go. An out-of-the-way section of the Hall, not so different from the section where they had set up the table and tools for that bit of Craft. When they reached an odd archway leading to an open area, Daemonar and the other four boys stepped aside, letting the girls enter first.

Nothing threatening, then, not if Warlord Princes were allowing a Queen to enter first, but . . . Hell’s fire, Mother Night, and may the Darkness be merciful!

Zoey had expected Prince Sadi to be there for this . . . discipline. She’d kind of expected that Prince Yaslana would be there as well. But she hadn’t expected the Gray-Jeweled Black Widow Queen with the ice-blue eyes and spiky white hair who was also waiting for them.

“Kiss kiss,” Lady Karla said.

*Do you know her?* Titian asked on a distaff thread.

*I’ve seen her.* Once. Was she here to take back the gift she’d delivered before Zoey had come to the Hall? Please, no. Not before she had a chance to ask even one question.

“We’ll talk about your adventure in a few minutes,” Karla said. “Right now, you’re all standing witness to the unraveling of a different spell.”

“You found an answer?” Prince Sadi asked.

“We think so,” Karla replied.

“First we have to find the damn thing,” Prince Yaslana growled.

“Unless it will come when it’s called,” Karla said brightly.

Prince Yaslana swore.

Daemonar sucked in a breath and whispered, “Hell’s fire.”

Karla held up a small wooden frame that contained a crystal chip woven into the center of a simple web. The chip began to shine and . . .

That voice! Soaring, summoning. A single phrase, sung over and over in a language Zoey didn’t recognize.

The Scelties howled. The wolves who lived in the estate’s north woods howled. The stallions who were in paddocks near the Hall bugled a challenge.

The singing stopped.

“Lucivar, darling, would you tell the kindred that the Lady wasn’t calling them?” Karla asked.

“Yeah,” Lucivar sighed. “I’ll do that.”

But there was another sound. A muttering that had Prince Sadi focusing on one of the windows that overlooked this open area.

Karla vanished the wooden frame and called in another frame that held another crystal chip woven into a web. When that chip began to shine, Karla said loudly, “Our apologies, Uncle Saetan.”

A second voice, the same voice that had sung that summoning, said at the same time, “Our apologies, Papa.”

“We should have paid more attention to the spell we were working on,” Karla and the other voice continued, “and we should have considered how to undo that bit of Craft before we tried it. And we’re very sorry that the explosion knocked down that wall, but we did get the hole shielded before the second floor collapsed.” Karla waited a moment before her voice, and only her voice, added, “Kiss kiss.”

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Then . . .

Weird streaks of black appeared in one window. A moment later, a corner of the pane changed to white sand and spilled out of the window frame. More glass changed and spilled to the ground until there was a small mound beneath the empty frame where the pane had been.

“Well,” Karla said. “That was unexpected.” She turned to Sadi and gave him a bright smile. “But it did solve your problem.”

“I’m delighted,” he replied dryly.

Zoey didn’t think Sadi was delighted, but Daemonar breathed a sigh of relief, so hopefully he would explain this later.

“Now,” Karla said, turning to Zoey. “Where did you get the spell that went awry?”

Zoey wished Prince Sadi had asked instead of Lady Karla, but she called in the notebook and held it out.

Karla raised her hand, and the notebook obligingly floated on air and crossed the space between them. She opened it to the page that still had a strip of paper marking it. “Why did you ignore the notes on the back of the page?”

“Notes?” Zoey shook her head. “No, there was just . . .”

Karla turned the page and held up the notebook.

Notes. And the words “Needs work!” in large letters.

“We thought that was for something else,” Titian said, pulling her wings in tight.

“Uh-huh.” Karla gave them another bright smile. “My darlings, never ignore the notes that follow one of these bits of Craft.”

“May I see that?” Prince Sadi reached for the notebook. He looked at the page and swore softly.

“We just found it behind some books,” Zoey said hurriedly. “There’s no name on it, so . . .”

“I was married to the woman for seventy years,” Daemon growled. “I recognize the Queen’s handwriting.”

Mother Night! This was a book of Witch’s spells and Craft?

Zoey took a step toward Sadi. “We’ll take very good care of the notebook. And we’ll be careful. We promise.”

Sadi made a sound that might have been a laugh. “Yes, you will, because you’re not getting this back.” He vanished the notebook.

“However,” Karla said, “Daemon will review the Craft—and the notes—and select some of these spells for you to learn under his supervision.”

Sadi stared at Karla. “Did I agree to this?”

“You did.”

“When?”

Prince Yaslana made a strange sound. Zoey wasn’t sure if he was laughing or swearing. Or both.

Karla linked her arm with Sadi’s and just smiled.

As he escorted Karla to the occupied part of the Hall, Daemon wondered if any of the children had noticed that the Glacian Queen floated on air just above the floor and he was doing the walking for both of them.

“Will you join us for dinner?” he asked. “All the children will be at the table for this meal, and I’d like your opinion.”

“Any particular reason?”

“I’d like to know what you think of them.”

“I’m rather curious about them myself, so I accept your invitation,” she replied. “Besides, I doubt any of them have sat at a table with someone who drinks yarbarah.”

That was just one of the reasons he wanted her to join him and the children tonight.

“You’re going to have to find the other notebooks. You do know that?”

He almost missed a step. “I beg your pardon?”

“We all jotted down notes from lessons, as well as how this bit of Craft reacted when mixed with that level of power, and the coven used to tuck the notebooks on the shelves with the Craft books,” Karla explained. “If Zoela found one of Jaenelle’s notebooks on the shelves, it stands to reason that there are still more tucked away, since each of us filled quite a few of them. And the boyos used to keep notes too. You’ll want to find those notebooks and look through them. They might contain useful hints for the young wiggle-waggles.”

He could have sworn his brain spun a couple of times in his skull. “Do you know how many rooms qualify as a library here at the Hall? Not to mention that every social room and sitting room connected to a square of bedrooms has shelves of books. It will take weeks to check every shelf in every possible room.”

“Hardly. I’ll show you how to construct the summoning spell. All you have to do is hold Jaenelle’s notebook in one hand and the summoning web in the other. Have Beale station a footman or maid in every room that has books and watch for something trying to escape from the shelves in answer to your call.”

“You could do the summoning.”

Karla laughed. “Oh, no, boyo. Lucivar is taking me back to the Keep, and we’re leaving before dawn.”

*Coward,* Daemon said on an Ebon-gray spear thread.

*Fool,* Lucivar countered. *Ask her why she chose that particular spot for the summoning. Assuming you have balls enough to ask.*

Ah, Hell’s fire. Thinking about the apology that had ended Saetan’s spell, he had a bad feeling he wouldn’t like the answer. “Why did you choose that part of the Hall for the summoning?” Daemon asked.

Karla didn’t reply for a long moment. “Did you notice the archway?”

“I did. It’s an unusual feature.” The archway connected an interior corridor with an open area exposed to weather without the benefit of a door to keep the interior and exterior separate. It also didn’t have a perfect construction that would accommodate a door—or provide any confidence that it would stay up if you were under it.

Karla gave him a sharp smile. “When that particular spell went wrong for Jaenelle and me, the hole we punched in the wall was a bit bigger than a decorative window. But you’ll notice that the wall above the archway hasn’t fallen down, even after all these years.”

“Sweet Darkness,” he whispered.

She patted his arm. “You survived your initiation, Sadi. You’ll be fine. Just make sure you collect all those notebooks.”