Fae King's Vengeance (Court of Bones and Ash Book 4) by Harper Layla

Author:Harper, Layla [Harper, Layla]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2020-07-01T16:00:00+00:00

13

Kyra

The ice queen is in rare form.

“Where is he?” Tables fly across the air, shattering against the wall. “It has been days. Days!”

Magda huddles on one side of the room while Aelinor’s mage, the elf who’d assisted her in killing the poor goblin at the ruins, ducks to avoid the shrapnel.

She doesn’t say who he is, but I’ve got a pretty good hunch. And it makes me smile.

Stomping down the throne steps, she snaps her arm in the elf’s direction. “He should have issued the accord. Is this not what you foresaw?”

An accord? I shrug at Ilearis, who looks just as confused as I am. Rogar didn’t say anything about a negotiation.

“I-I-I did, Your Majesty,” the elf stutters.

“Then where is it? Where is the raven?”

The mage’s jaw dislodges and sets loose a small croak. When Aelinor stops before him, the male drops to a knee, and I’m surprised he doesn’t pee himself. The longer she goes without speaking, the more his body shakes.

“I have no answer,” he says finally.

“You have no answer?” Aelinor huffs, scanning the empty room as if throngs of goblin watch. “You have no answer? Then you leave me no choice.”

“Your Highness, I beg of you—”

“You beg?” She snickers. “Yes, I suppose you will when I return your traitorous bones to the spring court.”

“Behold the truth. I do not lie. The threads of fate are hidden, my liege. I can no longer see what is to come.”

She crouches and takes the male’s face between her hands. Magic wafts from her body like tongues of black smoke. “Show me.”

The tremors racking the elf’s body escalate. A low whining keen erupts from his mouth, thick with suffering like a dying animal.

It sets off a shudder of my own. We’ve been off Aelinor’s radar since my interlude with Rogar. Thank the stars, because I haven’t figured out a plausible lie for my flawless skin and the two inches of hair that regrew overnight. She’ll assume the obvious—Ilearis.

I can’t let that happen.

“Hmm.” She releases the mage and straightens. “You speak true.”

She sounds surprised.

The elf sags into himself.

Shifting her weight to one hip, Aelinor crosses her arms. “Why, then? This is unlike Rogar to forgo a plan that would ensure the protection of the hostages. Have you an explanation? A reason for this sudden lack of sight?”

“The threads of fate have changed, Your Highness.”

“Pfft.” Aelinor taps her chest. “I create my own destiny.” Pacing a tight circle, she kicks chairs and debris out of her way. “This is not fate. Rogar has received counsel from someone he trusts enough to make an out-of-character decision. I would be impressed if his actions were not impairing mine.”

She pauses for a moment, head angled, and for a brief second, I see the old Aelinor. Tough yet fair. And then the darkness flows back into her eyes. “Who? Who? Who? Not the fool, Frinhol? No, no, no. I do not think so.”

“The norn?” the mage suggests, head bowed.

Aelinor wheels around to Magda, her lids lowering to slits.

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