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is the best we can do for now.”

He was relieved when she seemed to accept it. She laid her head on his shoulder and watched helplessly as the forest of her childhood and the home they’d built together blazed.

Chapter Two

Aborella stood at the window of her ritual room, scanning the forest beyond the Obsidian Palace for any sign of her familiar, Abacus. Days ago she’d tied a note of warning to the leg of the silver bird, commanding her to fly to Dianthe. Abacus had never returned. Worse, when she’d attempted to call the bird to her using their magical bond, she’d been met only with emptiness where there’d once been a connection. She was beginning to fear her dear pet was dead.

Surely Dianthe wouldn’t have harmed the bird. Sylas perhaps, if he’d thought she was using it to spy, but she doubted it. His mate would never allow it. Still, she hadn’t slept well since. Something was wrong. Something that was too close to her to see.

After searching the sky one more time, she turned to the dark crystal she sometimes used for scrying. She rested her fingers on the smooth surface.

“Show me Abacus,” she whispered.

Cloudy images flitted through the reflection in the stone. Shapeless masses. Nothing she could discern. Nothing helpful. But then an easily recognizable feeling overcame her. Like being dipped in ice water, she sensed evil pressing in around her, nipping her skin. She was sinking, being swallowed by absolute darkness.

With a gasp, she removed her fingers from the stone. Oh, Abacus. What happened to you?

Three sharp knocks came on the door. Strange—normally no one bothered her here. They were all too afraid of disturbing her work for the empress. She didn’t get a chance to ask who it was. Without any invitation on Aborella’s part, Eleanor, empress of Paragon, entered like an arctic wind.

Aborella stood and bowed. “Empress, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Have you found the child yet?” Eleanor demanded. She was dressed in red velvet today, in a gown that might have hung on the wall as its own work of art. The stiff neckline circled her shoulders and folded around her body, giving the appearance that she was wrapped inside the head of a rose. The effect was striking… until the empress smiled. Then all Aborella could think was that she’d found the thorn.

“Unfortunately, no.” Aborella did her best to feign disappointment. “My visions are unclear. I suspect Raven and her sisters are blocking me. I’ll keep trying. I’m bound to find a crack in their protective magic with time.”

The empress grunted and paced into the room, her fingers trailing over the herbs and magical objects on the shelf. Aborella bristled as Eleanor’s nails passed the shadow-mail candle she’d stolen from Sylas and Dianthe. If the empress ever found out she’d used it to warn Nathaniel of the empress’s plans to destroy the child, she’d likely kill Aborella. Or worse.

“And what of the rebellion,” Eleanor asked slowly. “Has your sight been effective at tracking their whereabouts?”

Aborella knew better than to try the same trick twice. Eleanor’s expectations must be appeased. “Yes, I see them in Rogos. I believe they’re sheltering near the sacred pools of Niven.”

Eleanor’s brows arched toward her intricately braided dark hair. “The pools of Niven? Smart of them to hide in the only place on Ouros where the water is deadly to dragons. I wonder though how they managed the elves. After all, their leader, Lord Niall, told me only yesterday that they were committed to neutrality. I doubt he’d suffer a band of rebels on his most holy ground.”

Aborella spread her hands. “My visions are always open to interpretation.”

“Hmmm. Yes. And lately all interpretations seem to lead nowhere.” Eleanor walked to the window, crossed her arms, and stared out at nothing in particular. Her already dark eyes seemed to grow darker despite her face turning toward the sun.

She’d changed over the past months, lost weight and grown exceedingly pale. It was the blood magic. That type of magic demanded a price, and it showed in Eleanor’s hollow cheeks and skeletal arms.

“I will redouble my efforts,” Aborella promised. “I haven’t tried an amplification spell yet. With the right magic, I know I can get you what you need.”

“I expect more from you.” Eleanor turned from the window and glared at her.

Icy shards of fear speared through Aborella’s torso, and the hair on the back of her neck stood on end. What had happened? What did Eleanor know that she wasn’t sharing?

“And you will get it, my empress. For as long as we’ve been friends, I’ve taken pride in teaching you magic and advocating for you through your many trials, all in support of your goal to unite the five kingdoms. I won’t stop now. We will find answers. We’ll find the child and the rebels.” Aborella thought the lie sounded perfectly believable to her ears, but with every word, Eleanor’s face distorted with building rage.

“Yes,” she snapped. “You will find answers, Aborella, or things will get… difficult for you.” Hands planted on her bony hips, Eleanor called toward the open door. “Ransom, please show Aborella what you showed me.”

A dragon with a chiseled jaw and thick wavy hair strode into the room. She’d long suspected that Ransom, captain of the Obsidian Guard, was serving the empress in another capacity than her head of security. She’d caught the empress’s fingers lingering on his arm and encountered him in the hall outside her chambers late into the evening. The dragon was handsome but both a coward and a fool. She never welcomed his company.

He had a bag in his hand. Whatever was in it stank like rancid meat. Aborella shivered from the stench. “What is that?”

He reached a hand into the bag and retrieved a dead animal. Dead for days by the looks of it. With abject horror, she realized it was a bird, dangling from his fingers by its legs, its feathers stained with blood.

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