SHE WORKED LATE INTO THE night, not even stopping for dinner, despite Signe’s protests when she returned later that evening. But her friend knew Kate well enough not to bang her head against such a wall of stubbornness. Especially once Kate explained the significance of the ledger.
Probing it for its secrets proved a long and difficult task. It contained records that appeared to date back to the three years before Hale’s death. At first Kate struggled to make sense of it, many of the names unfamiliar. She wished she had the original ledger to compare it to, but memory would have to suffice—there was no sign of the other anywhere in the quarters.
Still, the longer she worked, the more she made sense of it, recognizing which entries were for upkeep on the house in the Glentrove district, which were payments to her tutors, the seamstress bill, weaponry, and so many other day-to-day, mundane expenses. The payees she didn’t know, she wrote down on a separate piece of parchment, marking them off when any insight came to her later.
Her eyes began to burn and her head to ache as the hours stretched on, but finally she uncovered the only secret the ledger had to give. Of all the entries, there was only one she failed to recognize by the end—regular payments to an establishment called the Sacred Sword. Kate had no idea what sort of business it was, but guessed it must be a tavern or gaming house based on its location in the Burnside district. Either way, she was determined to find out why her father would spend such a regular and large amount of money and why he would’ve needed to keep it secret.
Maybe he had a gambling problem, Kate speculated. Two years ago she would’ve dismissed the idea as absurd; her father’s only passion in life was his horses. And his daughter. But she was old enough now for the blinders of childhood to have been stripped away, to know that even good men sometimes fell victim to their own cravings, whether it was drink or game or some other debauchery.
She hoped she was wrong, but even if she wasn’t, it couldn’t be worse than not knowing. She wanted to head to this Sacred Sword right now, but she was too tired. Tomorrow then, she vowed.
Kate woke the next morning to a loud knock on the door. It was early, and she wasn’t done sleeping yet. “Go away,” she said, pulling a pillow over her face.
But the person only knocked again, louder this time.
Muttering a curse, Kate rolled out of bed and stumbled to the door in only her nightshift and bare feet. She cracked it open, ready to give the person a harsh dismissal, but her mind went blank when she saw Corwin standing there.
He blinked at her state of undress. “Apologies. I didn’t realize you’d still be abed.”
“I was up late.” Kate wrapped her arms around her chest. “Is there something you wanted?”
He hesitated a moment, then seemed to recover his nerve. “Yes, to invite you for a ride. I’ve even brought another bribe.” He held out his hand, revealing a stack of sweet rolls.
Kate bit her lip, wanting to say no. She had plans today, but the smell of the rolls was too good to resist after her late night and no supper. She opened the door.
“Come in while I get changed.”
Five minutes later, Kate emerged from her bedroom dressed in a tunic, breeches, and overskirt, her black hair tied in a neat braid. A scent of roses hung about her thanks to the bath.
Corwin looked up from where he was sitting at her father’s desk, the ledger still open to the last page in front of him. “Was this your father’s? Where did you find it?”
Cursing herself for being so careless, she debated her answer. Then she remembered he had promised to help her uncover the truth. The only secret she needed to keep from Corwin was about her family’s wilder magic. She doubted the Sacred Sword had anything to do with that, though.
“In a lockbox behind that painting.” She gestured toward the wall. “I think it’s what my father meant by ‘go to Fenmore.’ When I was little, I thought that painting was what Fenmore looked like. I’d forgotten until yesterday.”
Corwin peered up at it, his mouth forming an O of surprise. “Do you know what it means?”
Kate stepped up to the desk and helped herself to a sweet roll. “Not yet. But for some reason my father was making payments to a place called the Sacred Sword that he didn’t want anyone to know about.”
Corwin made a choking sound and tried to hide it behind a cough. “Yes, that makes sense. I’m sure your mother wouldn’t have approved.”
Kate tilted her head, frowning. “Why do you say that?”
Corwin dropped his gaze and made a show of wiping the crumbs from his tunic. “Because the Sacred Sword is . . . ah . . . a . . . brothel.”
Kate stared dumbfounded for several seconds until the realization of this truth struck her. Was that all it was? He’d been visiting a brothel and wanted to keep it secret from his wife? Well, yes, he would’ve wanted to keep it secret from Mother. Only—
Kate bent toward the ledger and ran her finger down the entries until she reached the very last payment he’d made to the Sacred Sword. She motioned to Corwin, her finger still in place. “Is this the kind of money one spends in a brothel like that?”
Corwin turned bug-eyed at the question and coughed again. “Um, no. For that kind of money, he would have to be visiting twice a day, every day of the month if not more.”
Kate tapped the toe of her boot against the marble floor. “It doesn’t make sense. We both know there’s no way he could’ve been visiting so often. Not unless he could be in two places at once. So why spend so much?”
“No idea.” Corwin shrugged, then narrowed his gaze at Kate. “But please tell me you’re not planning on going there to find out.”
“Whyever not?”
Corwin ran a palm over his face. “It could be dangerous, Kate. The men who frequent that kind of place aren’t the sort of people you should be around.”
Kate rolled her eyes. “I can take care of myself, Corwin.”
“I know, I know.” He raised his hands in surrender. “But if you’re going to go, then I should go with you.”
Making a face, she shook her head. “It wouldn’t work. If the secret my father is hiding there is connected to why he attacked the king, then it’s doubtful anyone who knows anything is going to talk to you, the high prince, about it.”
“They might not talk to you either. I mean, no one came forward when there was a chance to tell you before. And in a place like the Sacred Sword, you’re bound to receive the same treatment as Master Cade gave you yesterday. Or worse.”
Kate’s face heated at the memory. “I don’t know what—”
Corwin cut her off. “Don’t try to deny it. I know what happened. Dal had stopped by the stables and saw you go into the office.” He shook his head. “I’m so sorry, Kate. It seems you were right. My word counts for nothing. Only my presence matters, and barely at that.”
Kate wanted to be annoyed with him but couldn’t manage it with that look of misery on his face. “It’s all right, and it’s over. I didn’t want to work for him anyhow.”
Corwin stood up in a rush. “I couldn’t agree more, but you still need something to do involving your beloved horses, and I have just the solution.” He straightened to his full height as if to lend himself courage. “Come work for me, as the personal trainer to my new warhorse. I’m so busy right now with all the preparation for the uror, and I just don’t have the time to give him what he deserves. And after yesterday, well, I no longer want Master Cade to have the training of him.”
Kate thought it over, her first instinct to say no. She didn’t want to be any more beholden to Corwin than she already was. On the other hand, she did need a job, and not riding was even more unbearable than she could’ve imagined. She would join the Relay here in Norgard, if she could, but she doubted they would take her. Besides, she didn’t want to be away from the city for long periods of time with Bonner facing such scrutiny and danger every day. He’d finally managed to create a single workable mold, but no new firearms yet.
“I’ll do it,” she said. “It’ll give me plenty of time to find out the truth about my father.”
“I’m glad.” He hesitated, worrying at his lower lip with his thumb. Then, as if realizing what he was doing, he dropped his hand away. “Only, I’ve got to know: What happens after you find what you’re seeking? Will you go on training for me?”
Kate thought about it, memories of yesterday and Cade’s treatment of her fresh in her mind. “I don’t know,” she answered at last. “Staying in Norgard doesn’t seem wise. I doubt this place can ever be my home again.” The admission hurt, but truth so often did.
Corwin slowly nodded, his expression guarded. Then he held out his arm to her. “Shall we ride then?”
Kate slid her arm around his, feeling the heat of his body and how it made hers tingle, and together they headed down to the stables.
Just before they went through the main gate, a voice called out to them.
“Your highness, a moment, if you please.”
Corwin let out a sigh, the sound barely audible, but Kate heard the sudden tension in it, like a bow pulled taut. She couldn’t blame him. He wouldn’t know a moment’s peace until the uror trial was over.
Corwin faced the caller, whom Kate vaguely recognized as Minister Rendborne, the master of trade. “Yes, of course, minister. What can I do for you?”
Rendborne came to a stop before them, then turned to Kate, offering her a quick bow. “Nice to see you again, Miss Brighton.” A broad smile crossed his face, and she couldn’t help but return it. He was pleasant to look at, his golden eyes mesmerizing.
“I’ve found something you might find useful, your highness.” Rendborne reached into the pocket of his overcoat and pulled out a book bound in brown leather. He handed it to Corwin, the magestone on his right hand glowing dully.
Corwin accepted the book, turning it over to view the title, only to see there was none. “What is it?”
“Your grandfather’s journal, written during the time of his own uror trial.”
Corwin blinked, his mouth falling open in surprise. “Where did you get this?”
Rendborne waved the question off. “The ministry of trade keeps its own private archives. I stumbled upon it by chance and thought it might help with your upcoming trial.”
Corwin hesitated a moment, then held the book out to Rendborne. “I can’t take this. The high priestess said we’re not to accept help from anyone.”
“Indeed,” Rendborne said, bobbing his head in agreement. “But you are permitted to read and research as much as you want. Consider me your humble librarian. You’ll still need to do all the work plumbing it for its secrets.”
“He’s got a point, your highness,” Kate said, not wanting to see his strict adherence to rules lose him this opportunity. She had heard the talk of the Errant Prince among the servants and courtiers—the favor Corwin once held for winning the uror was gone. His disappearance had created too much uncertainty.
He glanced at her, still doubtful, then turned back to Rendborne. “Why not give it to Edwin?”
“I prefer a fair game,” Rendborne replied at once. “Your brother’s known about the uror colt longer than you have. Perhaps this will level the playing field.”
“I see.” Corwin debated a moment longer, then pocketed the book. “Thank you, minister.”
“Best of luck to you.” Rendborne bowed, then disappeared as quickly as he’d come.
Corwin headed through the gate into the stable, and Kate followed close behind him, her nerves prickling to be back here again so soon. Fortunately, there was no sign of Alaistar Cade, and all the grooms and stable hands gave them a wide berth. Two horses were already saddled for them in the training yard: Corwin’s new black stallion, Nightbringer, and a red chestnut mare with a white strip on her face and four white stockings.
“This is Firedancer,” Corwin said, holding out the reins to her. “And she’s yours.”
“Excuse me?”
A slow smile spread over his lips. “I lied when I said I had a horse for you to train. What I meant is that I have two horses to occupy your time. Mine and yours.” He held out the reins again.
Kate pressed her lips together. This cannot be happening. But it was. She read the sincerity in Corwin’s gaze, and excitement trembled through her. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because Kate Brighton without a horse is like a bird without wings. You saved my life. It would take a lot more than one horse to pay you back.” He shrugged. “Besides, I’m told she’s temperamental and stubborn. A perfect match for you.”
Kate snorted, then broke into a laugh, joy spilling over her astonishment. She reached up and planted a kiss on Corwin’s cheek. She laughed again at his stunned expression. Then she took the reins and turned to the mare. Firedancer. Her horse. Taking a deep breath, she slid a foot into the stirrup and mounted. The mare stepped forward, ears pricked in her eagerness to be off.
Kate looked down at Corwin, appreciating her vantage in the saddle. “Thank you. She’s going to be perfect.”
It was even truer than Kate could’ve guessed. When she and Corwin left the city, riding out into the countryside, she risked using her magic to touch the mare’s mind. The moment she sensed the bright glow of her essence—intelligent, willing, brave—she knew Firedancer was everything her father always sought in the horses he bred, the secret to his success as master of horse. Having her was like having a piece of him back.
Wordlessly, Kate and Corwin turned south and urged their mounts into a trot to warm up. They’d exited Norgard through the eastern gate, a decision made more out of old habit than conscious choice; the path from the castle to the gate was easiest and the least crowded. The southern road here led straight and flat in between fenced pastures. Before long, Kate let Firedancer break from the trot into a canter while Corwin did the same with Nightbringer. They rode side by side, varying the pace. They slowed when they needed to, allowing the horses to catch their breaths, only to start up again. Once they’d gone two miles, they turned back.
With the city gate in sight once more, Kate took a deep breath, unable to hide her disappointment that it was over already.
Corwin turned toward her and said, “Race you. First to the Wandering Woods wins.” Without waiting for a response, he heeled Nightbringer into a gallop, straight toward the distant tree line.
“You cheater,” Kate called after him, catching up a moment later. Their horses matched strides easily, both of them fighting to get ahead, with their competitive natures showing. In the end, neither won nor lost. Kate and Corwin slowed their mounts to a walk at the same time, just before the entrance to the woods.
“Well, that was fun.” Corwin slapped Nightbringer’s neck affectionately.
“I think I needed that,” Kate said, breathless.
But she still wasn’t ready to head back to the city. She turned her gaze onto the woods, with its slender, white-barked trees stacked in tight rows like spears on a weapon’s rack. There was something haunting about their stark beauty.
Feeling suddenly mischievous, she arched an eyebrow at Corwin and inclined her head. “Shall we cool them down in there, out of the sun?”
Corwin laughed, the sound just shy of nervous. “I haven’t been in there in years. Not since the last time we dared.”
Kate wasn’t surprised. Few ever ventured into the Wandering Woods. It was said to be haunted, cursed. According to the history books, one of the Hellgates—the portals that unleashed the nightdrakes onto Rime—was hidden somewhere among those trees. Years ago, she and Corwin had dared each other to ride into the woods in search of the Hellgate. They didn’t make it very far before turning back, their imaginations getting the better of them. The fear had been fun, creating a ready-made excuse for them to find comfort in each other’s arms. The memory sent a flutter through Kate’s chest.
Things would be different today. They were different people, braver and wiser. Not that the adventure of it had anything to do with why she suggested going in. No, the guaranteed privacy was the appeal today. Kate wanted the freedom to use her gift, to get to know Firedancer the best way she knew how. There’d be no risk of magists discovering her in there.
“Well, I’m game if you are,” Corwin said, and he urged Nightbringer down the overgrown path.
Kate followed after him, closing her eyes and stretching out with her magic. A sense of completeness came over her as she joined with Firedancer, feeling the mare’s tired excitement. She had enjoyed their ride. So had Nightbringer, Kate was pleased to learn when she touched his mind as well. She breathed in, savoring the feel of the magic inside her. She’d gone too long without using it. With Corwin leading the way, silent and inattentive, Kate stretched out even further with her gift, soon sensing the birds, foxes, squirrels, and other wild animals in the woods.
“The first of the uror trials is in two weeks,” Corwin said a few minutes later, jarring Kate out of the trance she’d fallen under.
Withdrawing her magic, she cleared her throat. “Yes, I heard. I’m surprised they’re starting so soon.”
“That makes two of us. But the priestesses are in a hurry. Given how long they had to wait for the uror sign to finally appear, I don’t blame them.”
Kate winced at the bitterness in his voice. She expected it not to be there, not now that the uror was here. Then again, maybe it was just nerves. Historically, there were always three trials for the uror, three tests designed to prove the heirs’ suitability to sit upon the Mirror Throne. Kate had no idea what the tests entailed, but it was common knowledge that participants sometimes died during them.
“Are you worried?” she asked.
“A little.” He slowed Nightbringer, making room for her to ride next to him, the path just wide enough to allow for it. “But to be honest, I fear winning far more than losing. Or even dying for that matter.”
Kate scoffed. “Don’t be absurd. You will make a great king. Everyone always thought so when we were younger.” Kate remembered it well, the way the servants, courtiers, and even the king himself treated Corwin as the heir apparent.
“Yes, I remember. I used to believe them, too. More’s the pity.” He grimaced, his gaze dropping to his bandaged right hand, where the uror brand lay hidden. But after a moment, Kate realized it wasn’t the bandage that held his attention but the vambrace around his wrist. She’d noticed that he always wore it to hide the tattoo beneath.
“What happened to you?” Kate said, curiosity getting the better of her. “The Corwin I knew would’ve been eager to win and certain of victory even before it began. Like the one who challenged me to that race just now.”
He barked a laugh. “If only ruling a kingdom was as simple, but I’m afraid that Corwin died on a battlefield in Endra.”
Kate shot him a puzzled look. “Is that where you were these last few years? In Endra?”
He nodded, bending low to dodge a branch dangling across the path. “I joined the Shieldhawks for a time.”
“The tattoo.” Kate gasped, her mind making the connection at last. No wonder it had been so difficult. The Shieldhawks were a legendary mercenary company out of Endra, the last organization she would ever have associated with the high prince of Rime. It was downright scandalous.
“I’m sorry,” Kate said, noticing Corwin’s bemused look. “I saw it when you were injured but I couldn’t place why it was familiar. But . . . why would you join the Shieldhawks?”
Corwin turned his gaze ahead and shrugged, the gesture at odds with the stiffness in his shoulders and back. “Oh, many reasons. Not the least of which was the uror. If I was never to be king, I wanted to do something that mattered, and the Shieldhawks are mostly concerned with stopping Seva from taking over the world. I can’t imagine a more noble cause than that. For a while I thought I’d found my place and purpose among them. I was wrong.”
An ache squeezed Kate’s throat at the loss she sensed in him. Swallowing it down, she asked, “What happened?”
Corwin blew out a breath, one loud enough to make Nightbringer prick his ears back at him in alarm. “We were sent on a mission to disrupt a Sevan supply line. I’d just made captain. There were twelve men under my command. Only two of us made it back.”
“You and Dal,” Kate said, remembering the conversation she’d had with him that night by the Relay tower.
Tight-lipped, Corwin added, “If there was any doubt about my unworthiness to lead, I proved it then. Initiating the trials now is nothing but the gods mocking me.”
Kate gaped, shocked by the strength of his conviction. She felt it like a slap. Only, she remembered Dal warning her to be skeptical when he told her this story. He’d called Corwin’s actions heroic.
“You can’t really believe what you’re saying, Corwin.”
He started to respond, but Nightbringer spooked without warning, stomping his front legs. Firedancer did too, the force of it jarring Kate’s spine. She tightened her fingers around the reins automatically and pressed her heels down in the stirrups, braced for another spook.
“I wonder what’s gotten into them?” Corwin said.
“No idea.” Instinctively, Kate touched Firedancer’s mind. The mare sensed something wrong ahead, a smell that filled her with fear. Kate reached out further with her magic, searching for the wild animals she’d sensed earlier. They were keeping their distance from this place, those nearest quiet and still from the same fear infecting the horses.
Expanding her search, Kate stumbled across the source of the fear—a creature she didn’t recognize. It was predatory, its mind focused like a cat on the hunt, but there was something oily about its thoughts, as if they weren’t completely contained. If she got too close to them, their substance might rub off on her. She couldn’t sense that warm glow that was at the center of most animals either. Where it ought to have been, there was only emptiness. Stranger too was that she sensed multiple minds, as if there were several creatures wrapped inside one, thoughts garbled and overlapping, connected like threads in a web. It was impossible to tell where one ended and another began.
Kate pulled back from the sensation, her stomach writhing. “We should find out what it is.” She thought she knew but didn’t want it to be true.
She slid from the saddle. Corwin joined her a moment later, and they tethered the horses to a tree before moving forward, revolvers in hand. Like her, he’d taken to wearing the one Bonner had given him in Farhold all the time.
Sensing the creatures, Kate made her way toward them. Their presence grew stronger with each step, but when she broke through the brush into a wide clearing where she knew they ought to be, there was no sign of them. This is wrong. They’re here. But where? She closed her eyes, trying to orient her mind to their physical location—
Just ahead. She stepped forward slowly, wary of a trap. Corwin kept pace beside her.
Scanning the ground, her eyes fell on a small stone partially hidden beneath the tall grass. It was halfway buried in the dirt, but she could see the glow on it. A magestone. She pointed. “Look at that.”
Corwin bent toward it. “What in the three hells?”
“Don’t—” Kate started to say, but Corwin had already picked it up. The air in front of them shimmered, like a wardstone shield going up. Or down, Kate realized, her breath catching. In front of them, a massive hole had appeared where only wild grass had been a moment before.
A foul stench rose up from the pit, and with it came the sound of growls and snapping jaws. Drakes. But which kind? Kate peered over the side. Several sets of eyes set in snarling faces stared back at her. It took her a moment to see them clearly, their black scales camouflaged against the shadow of the pit. There were four daydrakes in all, and when they saw Kate, they lunged at her, half climbing out of the pit. She lurched backward with a gasp. But they weren’t able to get out. The hole was too deep for their flightless wings.
No, not a hole, she realized. A cage.
One warded with mage magic.