Faren and I had walked through the village at the edge of the keep and inside the high walls. It had once been filled with scores of vampire families, though portions of it were now decayed and gone under Desmerada’s harsh rule.

The few vampires who still lived there were hesitant at first, scared that I would be just another Desmerada. But they began to speak with me and show me their shops and homes. I was humbled by them. They had suffered so much under Desmerada’s rule, but persevered, surviving and raising families. They were the future of the race, not the dark and twisted nobles who had laid waste to Priam’s legacy.

We continued along until the suns began their gradual descent. We’d circled the great keep and moved up another level to the Nobles’ Road. The houses here were grander but silent—their masters having fled or taken up residence in the dungeon. I was pleased to see the Darkwood vampires moving in along the road, as well as some of the villagers with larger families. The crimson was coming down here, as it was all over the keep.

The friendly little girl from the village was helping her mother unload their sparse belongings from a cart. I strode up and petted the family’s friendly amaranth before hefting several heavy bags and a ragged chest of drawers up the grand steps into the home. The items from Darkwood clashed with the glitzy interior of the manor house, though I rather enjoyed the meeting of the worlds.

The mother bowed, and the child did her best to do the same. I caught her before she toppled onto her nose. I settled her back on her feet as she darted her shy gaze away. “That bow was good, but it may need a little more work, precious one.”

Her mother bowed even lower. “Askenith.”

“Shakorah.”

“Halt!” Faren yelled from outside the building.

I tensed and glanced to the main road. “Stay here and lock the door.”

The mother obeyed as I rushed out onto the stoop, closing the door behind me. Faren stood on the bottom step, his sword drawn as a vampire came running down the road at a hellish pace.

“It is I, my lord.” The runner stopped and bent, putting his hands on his knees.

Faren recognized him and sheathed his blade. “What’s got you running like one of Arachne’s spiders is after you?”

“Shildreth sent me. They’ve taken her.”

“My Shildreth? Where, who?” Faren dashed to the exhausted soldier.

“No, not her. Askenor. The demons came for her. Shildreth sent me to find you.”

My blood turned to ice. If Menelaus even thought to harm Helen… I yelled to the amethyst firmament, my anger a scourge on the air.

I rushed to the winded soldier and dragged him up by his collar. “How long has she been gone?”

“Hours, my lord. I tried to find you, I ran through the village, I-I—”

I didn’t wait to hear the rest. Dropping the soldier, I took off up the steep road leading to the keep. Faren followed close behind. I blew through the open keep doors and hurried to the throne room. Shildreth sat there on the steps, her face drawn.

“They took her through a lower corridor. A secret passage even the servants didn’t know about. I’m so sorry, my lord. So sorry.”

I paced, trying to think of a plan, some way to get to Decanum and reclaim Helen. But she was the tactician, and she was gone beyond my reach.

“She knew,” Shildreth said. There was not even a single note of hope.

I rounded on her. “She knew what?”

Faren stood between Shildreth and me. He put a hand up toward me to ward me off. “Give her a chance to—”

“She knew what?” I yelled.

“I told her they were coming for her. I had intel, you see, just this morning. She knew, and she let them. She let them…” Her voice broke on a sob. Faren went to her.

I sank to my knees and gazed up at the ceiling. The workers hadn’t gotten to this part of the keep yet. The crimson image of Desmerada in a bath of blood was still there. Her eyes taunted him, laughing at her inside joke. The king, powerful and victoriously returned to his throne. But those laughing eyes knew, as I knew, I was nothing without my queen.

She had sacrificed herself for me. Her plan was no doubt to kill Menelaus. But even if she managed to cut off the serpent’s head, the rest of it would coil around her and take her life. Menelaus’s army was legendary for their brutality. They would make her suffer. I had failed her yet again, allowed her to slip through my fingers and back into death’s tight grip. Here I was, playing at being king, while she put her life on the line to take out the most powerful enemy of all vampire kind.

I had to get her back. Her resolve, her fire, spurred me back to my feet. “Faren, how many days to Decanum from here?”

“It’s impossible, my lord. The Desert of Thorns is rife with Menelaus’s soldiers. There is no way to get there without paying with your life.”

I knelt before Shildreth and Faren. “I need your help. I’m not asking you as your king. I’m asking you as her friends.”

Shildreth put a trembling hand to my face. “I’m afraid Faren is right. There is no way to reach Decanum alive through the Desert of Thorns. And there is no way around it. Decanum has no other entrance. Our portal cannot access theirs, and in all the time our spies have been searching, not a single secret passage has been discovered. I am so sorry, my lord.”

Shildreth’s gaze strayed from my face and focused on a point behind me. I turned to see Arachne and a contingent of her spiders. They followed in two even lines behind her.

“She’s right. You will never make it through the Desert of Thorns. But”—Arachne ordered her spiders to stay put as she came to my side—“you could fly over it.”

It would take Zirga days to get to the Bloodkeep, and I had no way of summoning her. The furies would be of no help—they worked only as assassins, not couriers. Out of options, I asked, “What did you have in mind?”

“Farnkelan.”

Faren scoffed. “The dragon? He’d never let a vampire ride him, especially after what Desmerada did to him!”

“Like all wild things, he can be tamed.” Arachne’s black eyes glittered in the light, giving her an otherworldly beauty.

I remembered the great wings and talons I’d seen through the dark branches of the wood. A dragon that size could carry a band of soldiers and me to Decanum, and take out legions upon legions of soldiers with its fiery breath. But it was an insane strategy. If gentle Zirga had misgivings about me, how would I convince Farnkelan to trust me?

Helen’s words drifted through my mind, how she pitied the dragon for its mistreatment. How anything, if given a chance, could become something better. I would take my chances if that meant I had even the slightest hope of getting her back.

I stiffened my resolve. “Faren, bring your six best soldiers. We’re going to the Darkwood. After that, we rain down destruction on Decanum.”