Chapter 71

Days became weeks as one emergency bled into the next crisis, the city finally settling into a predictable pattern by the time the snows melted.

Shipments came regularly from the south, and now the wagons went back to the Havens filled with more than gold from the treasury, they carried medicines and potions from Southwell and finely woven textiles and glassware from the Blackcastle shops. The market was thriving, the bridge was holding, and the barracks were finally done.

The mages had started a guild, and we were due to recognize them, formally, in two days' time at my weekly audience. My nose wrinkled at the idea as I stared out the window over the patchwork green of Solarys's intertwined forest and farmland.

Flocks of brightly colored birds soared above the trees, deer roamed the open fields, and the farmers from the Havens brought in bushels of fruit twice their normal size. This year's harvest looked to be the biggest on record, someone had said last week, and I closed my eyes, letting the wind play through my hair.

I lived for these moments of quiet.

They were too rare, but when they happened, they were pure bliss.

The city below teemed with patterns of orderly life, people going about their daily routines, no sign of the army that had stretched across the flatlands a few months ago. Most of the soldiers had gone back to their families, leaving only the most stalwart—and most brutal warriors—behind for Zorander and Raz to command.

Something told me they were glad they had someone to spar with besides each other.

The door behind me squealed and I closed my eyes.

"Anaria?" I already knew Sophie was alone because she didn't call me my queen or Your Majesty with that little note of mocking sarcasm in her voice right before she rolled her eyes.

"I'm in a halfway decent mood today. Please tell me no one has burned down the stables, and we'll be good."

I turned then studied her face, everything inside me going still.

"There is someone downstairs. Raziel…he sent me to fetch you. They're in the vestibule. Said to come right now."

That Raziel didn't come himself spoke to the seriousness of the situation, and the look on Sophie's face told me the rest. The day we'd been dreading had arrived.

The Oracle was here.

She'd gotten free from the blood circle, and she was here, and she was going to ruin this city.

"Go find Torin," I told her tightly. "You know what to do if things go badly. Get as many out as you can."

"That's not…why I'm here." Sophie's eyes flicked to the door before she wet her lips. "This is…might be worse. We don't know yet. That's what Raziel needs you for, my lady."

I was already halfway to the door, then through, down the steps past the stone-faced guards, and made for the far end of the corridor, the small, windowless room we kept for situations that could get…bloody.

Raz's magical shield hovered around a man on his knees dressed in rough, handmade leathers, his hair long and greasy. From the smell, he hadn't bathed in months. Even the torches and the shield didn't override the odor.

This smelled like…rot.

Tavion held up a hand to stop me. "A hunter, my queen. From the High Barrens."

All the air guttered out of my lungs. "Is everyone…" Zorander shot me a look, sharp enough I closed my mouth.

"Tell our queen what you told us, please. Word for word."

The man lifted his head, and it took everything inside me not to flinch. Black, thorny growths sprouted along one side of his heavily bearded face as if he was growing barbs. Oh gods, had I somehow done this?

Tavion shifted closer to me, hand on his sword, regret glowing in his eyes, and bile burned in my throat.

"Been hunting in the high passes all winter, up along the Ironhearts."

"North of Stormfall," Raziel said quietly. "South of the Dearth."

The man squinted up at me. "Anyway, started to see some strange things when the snow started thawing. Black snow, black oil seeping from the shale. Nests of dead Howlers. Then I tracked a deer down into a cavern. A deep one. Found the buck down on its side covered in some kind of…disease. Black, like the shale, milady, but it was rotting…from the inside out."

He waved a hand over his face. "Must've got too close and ended up like this." He tried to smile. "I came here to warn you, my queen. Whatever this is, it's coming from the far north, and now that the snow's gone, I don't think it's stopping."

"Get Bexley," I told Torin, her face paler than I'd seen it since the day I told her I'd claimed the magic. "See if he can heal this."

"Cosimo is already on his way. He's going to take care of…Brendel, isn't it?" Torin asked kindly as the man nodded. "My friend is very clever and very wise. If anyone can help you, he can."

"Has this happened to anyone else? Were other hunters affected, or did you see anyone else while you were in the mountains?"

"Few hunters returned this year. There's usually about twenty of us. Trappers, mostly."

Cosimo appeared, sporting one of his usual flamboyant robes—bright green today—took one long look, then calmly ushered the man away, but not before thoroughly erecting two shields around them both.

"Corvus is here?" I asked the moment they were out of earshot, scanning the faces around me. "He slithered out from beneath his rock?"

"Zeph and Tristan are already in the air," Zor said. "They'll be back in a few hours, then we'll know for sure. Simon went south to make sure everything's untouched from here to the Havens."

"It's been two months," I said quietly, staring down at the empty spot where the hunter had been kneeling. I swore I saw the slightest bloom of black there and waved my hand, blanketing the area with a shield. "Two months without his sister to keep him in check. Two months with all this wonderful reborn magic, waiting for him to devour."

I pressed a hand to my belly, stifling the urge to vomit.

"Corvus doesn't need to leave the Hammer. He can poison everything between here and his cave, and without his sister to keep him under control, his corruption will keep spreading until there is nothing but dust and stone."

I knew this like I'd seen it with my own eyes. My past self—Amalla—had seen this horror replay itself over and over enough times she'd chosen death over condemning another world to this fate.

And now here we were.

"This is my doing." I took a shaky breath. "This is on me."

"Don't you dare take that burden on," Tavion hissed, fangs flashing. "Not after everything you've done, that is not on you."

"Isn't it? I locked her away thinking I was buying us some time, but what did I do instead? I've secretly gloated these past months, you know. Hoping she was gone for good and this was all over. I even celebrated every day we made a little more progress without her around."

Zorander stepped around that blank spot, as if he, too, saw the shadows multiplying there. "We all have, as well we should. Evil should be celebrated when it's gone, and you shouldn't punish yourself for being happy about it. But this…If Corvus is at work here, then we know what we have to do."

Gods help me, I did.

"Kill that fucker before he kills us."