Shadow Heir

I refused Dorian’s further invitations to dance, but later, in watching him twirl around with other women, I realized the recent tension wasn’t just between our kingdoms. Whether it was my resentment over how he’d tricked me into winning the Iron Crown or simply disputes over how best to protect my twins, it seemed that Dorian and I had been bickering nonstop. It was nice to have just one evening where we were at peace with each other. I was reminded—almost—of how things used to be, back when we were a couple.

It was after midnight when I finally retired from the celebration. Enchanted fireflies had replaced the cherry petals, illuminating those revelers who were still going strong. I slipped away without any big good-byes because I’d learned a long time ago that once you started with one, many more would follow, and it’d be hours before I’d actually get to bed. So, really, only my guards noticed my exit, several of them detaching and following me inside the castle.

When I reached my rooms, I saw that some helpful servant had placed Ilania’s statues in there, maybe in case I wanted to decorate with them. Along with the unicorn statue I’d seen earlier, there was also one comprised of five fish balanced gracefully on top of each other. I would have that one sent off to the Thorn Land, since it seemed ironic for a desert kingdom. Tomorrow would be soon enough to put the other statue in storage here, as well as give me the chance to ask Dorian about the Yew Land since I was certain he was staying over tonight. I’d also have to make sure Varia got her token gifts. So much to do, but I was too exhausted to deal with any of it just yet.

Thinking of Dorian reminded me of a comment he’d made. Even though I was ready to fall over, I delayed a moment to summon Volusian to me. The room, which had moments ago been warm and cheery in the summer evening, grew cold and sinister. Volusian appeared in the darkest corner, his eyes glowing red.

“My mistress calls,” he said, in his flat tone.

I stifled a yawn and sat on the bed, suddenly feeling smothered by the long dress. “I need you to go to Roland whenever he’s up in the morning. Ask him to come see me here when he gets time. Emphasis on the ‘when he gets time,’” I warned. The last time I’d sent Volusian with a request to my stepfather, the spirit had simply said, “You must come now.” Roland had practically killed himself trying to get to the Otherworld, certain my death was imminent. With Volusian, one had to be specific.

“As my mistress commands,” he replied. “Is there anything else?”

“Nope. That’s—”

“What is that?”

I stared in astonishment, not so much because of the question itself, but because I could probably count on one hand the number of times Volusian had ever interrupted me. He tended to adhere to his servitude tenaciously (so long as my power was there to hold him) and rarely offered up anything that wasn’t asked of him. Equally rare was him soliciting information that wasn’t essential to his tasks. It was his way of showing how little he cared about me and my affairs.

“What’s what?” I asked, glancing around.

He pointed at the two statues. “Those,” he declared, “are damarian jade.”

I thought back to my conversation with Ilania. “Er, yeah, I think that’s what she called it.”

“She?” he demanded. “Who is she? And is she here?”

“The ambassador from the Yew Land,” I said, still kind of amazed by this conversation. “She’s here on behalf of her queen, Varia.”

“Varia,” he repeated. “She must be Ganene’s daughter.” There was something chilling about the way he said Ganene. The word dripped with venom.

“I wouldn’t know,” I said. “They just brought me the statues and made an offer of friendship.”

“Yes, I’m sure they would,” he replied enigmatically. “They excel at that.”

I stood up. “Volusian, what do you know about them? Do you know how they’ve got all these subjugated kingdoms?”

“Subjugated kingdoms? No, but it seems like a reasonable idea, mistress. One you might consider.” Volusian had calmed back down to his dry self, if he’d ever truly been upset. It was hard to tell with him.

“Have you been there?” I asked. “To the Yew Land?”

“Not in many, many centuries, mistress.”

“But you have been there.”

“Yes, mistress.”

“What do you know about Varia?”

“I do not know her at all, mistress. As I said, I have not been in the Yew Land for many centuries. Much has undoubtedly changed in that wretched place.” His red eyes flicked toward the statues. “Except for their abhorrent taste in art. If my mistress has need, I would gladly destroy those monstrosities and blight their unsightliness from her gaze.”

“Very kind. Why do you hate the Yew Land so much?” Before he could answer, another question came to mind. “Volusian, are you from the Yew Land?”

He took a long time in responding. I think, had he been able, he wouldn’t have answered. The binds that held him were too strong, however.

“Yes, mistress.”