Wraith King by Argyle Amber

Author:Argyle, Amber
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Starling Publishing
Published: 2020-11-03T00:00:00+00:00

Curse

For once not worried about assassins, Larkin stood at the windowpane, watching the storm rage. Thunder rumbled, lightning speared, and the lake heaved. The wind shredded the leaves, bits of gold falling like snow in a blizzard. The breeze pushed her clothes against her body, the rain skidding down the pane.

Her dreams hadn’t been as bad as usual. Just one that she could remember. Valynthian women weaving the enchantment around the wall. She didn’t understand why the tree was showing her Valynthian barrier magic. It wasn’t like she could use it with her warrior magic. But then, why did the White Tree do anything?

She rubbed her eyes, wondering what catastrophe had occurred while she slept on, oblivious. She decided she didn’t care. Someone else could deal with it for once.

Denan still slept. His lips were cracked, his skin ashen, but his forehead was cool. Once he had some food and water in him, he’d be back to his old self. She’d let him sleep a bit longer though.

Hissing at the soreness of her muscles, she shambled toward the bathroom. She longed for a hot bath but didn’t want to bother anyone with hauling hot water, and none of them would allow her to do it. She settled for a quick shower.

Rubbing oils into her damp hair, she tiptoed across the room and stepped out to the guards, surprised to find West and Tam.

“How’s Alorica?” she asked.

Tam pulled her into his arms, squeezing so hard she could barely breathe. “She’s coming home tomorrow.” Larkin sagged in relief. “Thank you. For saving her. Again.”

Would Tam hug and thank her if he knew that she regretted saving his wife at Denan’s expense? Feeling tainted, she stepped back from his embrace and looked for something, anything, to change the subject. A rotation of pages waited just out of earshot, Farwin among them.

“Have Viscott bring up breakfast,” she told Farwin.

The boy took off.

West handed her a stack of letters. “We’ve been collecting missives for you.”

She took them. “Not working the night shift anymore?”

West puffed out his mustache. “Someone has to save you from yourself.” The words were dressed in a joke, but beneath them was the meat and bone of truth with a measure of chiding.

Two could play at that game. She smacked him with the missives. “And who’s going to save you from me?”

He didn’t look chastised. He needed to learn she was in charge. Not him. A lesson that was growing closer and closer every day. They were both instinctively circling it, avoiding the confrontation their friendship might not survive.

“Magalia just went in with Sela,” Tam said.

She pointed to one of the pages. “Don’t let her leave without reporting to me.”

The boy nodded and hurried away.

She stepped back inside, leaving the doorway hazy but passable for Viscott to bring their breakfast. Denan still slept soundly; she’d let him rest until breakfast came. She sat at the table and scanned the missives while she waited.

Gendrin and Aaryn both wrote that they hadn’t found Maisy, but they were following a trail of black blood.

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