“No.”

“What do you mean, no?” Felitïa asked.

“Last I checked, no only has one meaning,” Zandrue replied.

“You know what I mean,” Felitïa said. “Why?”

Zandrue leaned on the desk. “Please don’t ask me to explain. Just accept that I can’t go. Okay?”

They were in the study cabinet at the top of the small spiral stairs in her apartments. Cabinet! There had been a time when she wouldn’t have thought anything odd of calling it a cabinet, but fifteen years living as a commoner had made her realise that a room that was as big as a small home did not deserve to be called a cabinet.

But what to call the room was not really a concern at the moment. Zandrue was. “Zandrue, do you have any idea how long I had to argue to get them to agree to let you come? We were up all night.” At first, her mother had refused to even let Felitïa come along. Her father had agreed, but it had taken ages of arguing to get her mother’s agreement, and ages more to get an agreement for any of her friends to come with her. In the end, they had decided that only one of them could come. She wanted Zandrue.

Zandrue took a deep breath before continuing. “I understand that, Felitïa. Really, I do. And I appreciate it. But you should have asked me first if I even wanted to go.”

“But I thought—”

“You thought wrong. You’re just going to have to accept that there is no way in hell that I am going to Scovese.”

Felitïa sighed. She should have considered this. The fear coming from Zandrue was the same fear that always came with anything related to her secret past—which Felitïa now knew had something to do with Volgs. But she had thought that since Zandrue had stood up to Volgs for the sake of Corvinian and wanted to help find and rescue him, she would be willing to go to Scovese and face the Volgs there.

“Zandrue, I don’t suppose maybe you’d be willing to tell me about...well, whatever your connection to the Volgs is?”

“You said I didn’t have to, that you understood.”

Felitïa nodded. “You’re right. I did.”

“Then stop fucking asking me about it!” Zandrue swung her arm across the desk, scattering papers and pens on it. A vial of ink landed with a smack on the hardwood floor, shattering and splashing its contents about. With a vicious kick, she sent the chair flying across the room. It landed precariously at the top of the stairs, teetered for a moment, and then toppled over. A moment later, it crashed into the floor of the salon below.

Felitïa wiped a splotch of ink from beneath her eye and backed away from Zandrue—and the anger spewing from her. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“You’re right. You shouldn’t have. Just like you shouldn’t have assumed I’d go anywhere you want without even discussing it with me first.”

“Your Highness?” The voice came from below. “Is everything all right?”

Felitïa hurried to the top of the stairs and looked down. It was Stela. “Yes, everything’s fine.”

“But the chair?”

“Just a little accident. Nothing to worry about. I’ll get it in a minute.”

“Of course, your Highness. Prince Garet and his fiancée are here to see you.”

“Oh. Show them in. I’ll be down in a minute. Better move the chair aside, I guess.”

“Of course, your Highness.”

Felitïa turned away from the stairs. She could guess why Garet was here.

Zandrue was leaning on the desk, taking deep breaths. The anger from her was subsiding, replaced by guilt—though less intense. “Sorry for the ruckus. I got a little carried away. I just...uh...I can’t go to Scovese, okay?”

Felitïa nodded. “I know. I’m sorry. I know how Volgs affect you, and I should have—”

“It’s not the Volgs,” Zandrue said.

“What?”

“I’m not worried about Volgs being there. It’s got nothing to do with that. I just can’t risk...that is, I mean, things might be a lot worse if I go than if I don’t. That doesn’t make any sense, I know, but trust me, okay?”

“Always,” Felitïa said. “But I do need to go.”

“Oh, I agree. You definitely need to go.”

“What will you do?”

Zandrue smiled. “I’ve got a few ideas. I’ll take Rudiger and Jorvan with me. Meleng should go with you.”

“Hey, Brains! Get down here! We need to talk!”

Felitïa groaned. “I better—”

“Go on,” Zandrue said. “I’ll be down in a minute.”

Felitïa gave Zandrue a quick hug and hurried down the stairs into the salon.

Garet was pacing back and forth. He had changed out of his banquet finery from last night, and was now wearing a plain cream doublet without a jerkin and simple, knee-breeches. His sword was still belted at his side. “There you are. No doubt you’ve heard this nonsense about Scovese.”

“I just spent all night arguing the details with Mother and Father,” she replied.

Stela came over to offer a glass of wine, but Felitïa shook her head.

“Arguing the details?” Garet said. “You should have been arguing against it. You’ve had experience with Volgs. You know they can’t be trusted. Besides, when have you ever agreed with anything that woman does?”

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

Quilla was sitting in a chair opposite the fireplace. Like Garet, she had changed out of her banquet clothing and was now wearing a simple green kirtle, belted at the waist with a soft leather girdle. A small red purse hung from the girdle. She still wore the same heart-shaped locket she was wearing yesterday.

Felitïa smiled at her, and Quilla smiled back.

“Well? Say something!” Garet was practically breathing down her neck now.

“It wasn’t Mother’s decision. It was Father’s.” She moved away from him and pulled up a chair beside Quilla.

“Father’s decision?” Garet said. He looked unsure what to say next.

Felitïa nodded. “He made it pretty quickly, too. Mother was completely against the idea. The majority of the time was just working out the details, including who’s going and who’s not.”

“Well...” Garet began, “then...whosever decision it was doesn’t matter. We have to fight it!”

“Why?” Felitïa asked.

“What do you mean, why?” Garet stomped across to the other side of the room, then turned around and stomped back again. “Come on, Brains! You think you’re so smart. Surely you can figure out that this is a trick.”

“Garet’s right,” Quilla said. “You can’t possibly trust them.”

“I don’t,” Felitïa said. “But I still think we should make the journey.”

“What? So they can ambush us on the way, sink our ship and kill half the Royal Family with it?” Garet banged his fist against the wall. “I thought you, of all people, would understand, Brains. You’re smart. You’ve met them before. You’ve always gone out of your way to oppose everything this family does. Why the sudden desire to fit in?”

“My decision has nothing to do with fitting in,” Felitïa said. “I think we should go because it will give us the opportunity the learn what the Volgs are up to.”

“Fat chance we’ll have of that if they sink us on the way.”

“We’re taking naval vessels along with us in case they try something like that.”

Garet raised his hands in mock defeat. “Oh, that’ll solve all our problems.”

He pulled up a chair in front of her and Quilla, sat in it, and leaned forward. “Look Brains, you may be smart, but you obviously don’t know much about naval tactics. We wouldn’t stand a chance in a sea battle against the Volgs. They can fly, damn it! They won’t even need to get close to board us. The battle will be over before it’s begun.”

He had a valid point there, Felitïa realised. She hadn’t thought of that. “There’s the Law of the Gods to consider.”

“Ha!” He pushed his chair back and stood up again. He paced over to the fireplace and leaned against the mantle. “Those laws mean nothing now. The gods abandoned us centuries ago.”

“They did that to protect us from Night,” Felitïa responded. Despite her religious training, she had never been particularly religious, so she was surprised to find herself defending this situation now, when at any other time, she would probably be agreeing with Garet. “If they hadn’t, we’d all be living under Night’s yoke.”

Garet banged his fists against the mantle, causing the candles on it, and even the portrait of Queen Felitïa above to shake. “She would never have fallen for this.”

Felitïa sighed. “Father seemed to think she’d go. That’s why he made the decision he did.”

Garet turned back around to face her. “Yeah, well, Father’s never been particularly good at knowing what other people will do.”

“Please,” Quilla said, “do we have to argue about this? Garet, why don’t you sit back down and let’s discuss this rationally?”

“I am discussing this rationally!” Garet pointed at Felitïa. “She’s just not being reasonable.”

“Garet!” Quilla snapped. “Sit down and calm yourself. I don’t like the idea of going to Scovese any more than you do, but give Felitïa a chance to explain her reasons. Maybe she has a point.”

“A point?”

“Garet!”

Garet grabbed another chair and sat down in front of them. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and proceeded to scowl at Felitïa.

“I think we should go because it will help us find Corvinian,” Felitïa said.

“Oh, you think he’s going to be on Scovese? Get real, Brains.”

“No, I don’t think he’s going to be on Scovese, but I think maybe someone who knows something will be. The timing between his kidnapping and now this meeting can’t be coincidence.”

“Maybe,” Garet grumbled.

“And maybe we can find that person and find out where Corvinian is being held.”

“You really think there’s a chance of that?” Quilla asked. Felitïa could sense a great deal of fear coming from her, but there was a hint of hope too.

“I do.”

“But how can you be sure he’ll still be alive?” Quilla said. “It’s a long way there, isn’t it?”

“A couple months, at least,” Felitïa said.

Garet jumped to his feet again. “Which is exactly why this a stupid plan. Every day we waste is another day they could kill him. We can’t afford to wait a couple more months.”

“I want to trust you, Felitïa,” Quilla said, “but Garet’s right. How can you be sure the Volgs won’t kill him?”

“I can’t,” Felitïa said, “but I know he’s alive now, and there has to be a reason for that. If they wanted him dead, they’d have killed him already.”

“And what if you’re wrong?” Garet said.

“That’s where I come in.” Zandrue had descended the stairs and was coming over to them. She grabbed a glass of wine from Stela on the way. “My friends and I aren’t going to Scovese. We’re going to explore other options.”

“Such as?” Garet said.

“For a start, I’m going to check out that cave you found Quilla in. There might be some clues left behind.”

“Will you be able to find it?” Felitïa asked.

“With some directions from Garet and Quilla here, it should be possible.”

“I don’t really know the region well,” Quilla said. “The Volgs took me there. I’m not sure I could give precise enough directions. I didn’t really pay attention. Garet?”

Garet crossed and uncrossed his legs. “About two days north of the city, past the Royal Hunting Grounds, a few miles outside the village of Elbeth. It’s along the coast, in a low cliff. I could show you if I didn’t have to go on this gods-damned journey.”

“It’s all right,” Zandrue said. “I’ll find it. What can you tell me about the Volgs who captured you, Quilla? Did Garet kill them all? Did any escape?”

“There was a priest or something, wasn’t there?” Garet asked Quilla.

Quilla nodded. “He was called Nibdenoff. He’s the one I saw most.”

“Describe him.”

Quilla shrugged. “He was big—huge—but they all are. Horns.”

“Long horns without a curve?” Zandrue asked. “Seven and a half feet tall? Grey and brown fur?”

“I think so. Maybe. Honestly, they all look the same to me. Though he had long black fingernails. And they were sharp. He scratched my face with them more than once.”

Zandrue nodded and looked to Felitïa. “Sounds like the one I fought. The one that killed Stavan.”

“He called me Catalyst,” Quilla said. “Any idea what that means?”

Zandrue shrugged and looked to Felitïa again.

“A catalyst,” Felitïa said, “is something that starts or boosts something else. I don’t have any idea why they’d call Quilla that. Unless she can boost Corvinian’s powers somehow. Or someone else’s. We need to get Jorvan to have a look at you, Quilla. Find out if you have magical talent.”

“There was another one called Castroff,” Quilla said. “I think he was in charge, but he wasn’t there often. Nibdenoff was in charge the rest of the time.”

“This Castroff,” Zandrue said, “was he a wizard?”

Quilla shrugged. “He never did anything magical that I saw. Doesn’t mean he wasn’t, though.”

“Castroff wasn’t there when I got there,” Garet added, “so I never saw him.”

“Could be the one who took Corvinian,” Felitïa suggested.

“Seems possible,” Zandrue said.

Garet sighed. “All right then, Brains. Looks like I’m trusting your friends to do this right while we go to gods-damned Scovese. This better work.”

“Don’t worry,” Zandrue said.

But Felitïa could sense that all of them, Zandrue included, were still very worried.