The rest of the sword rips free, creating a large opening, and the skin around it singes, filling the air with the putrid scent of burning flesh.
The man’s eyes roll up, and he collapses. The dagger hilts in his back melt into pools between his shoulder blades, and the rubies that had been set in one slide off and clink to the floor.
Hettie stands behind the man, the sword hilt in her hand misshapen from the heat of the man’s body.
“Hettie.” I pull her into a hug. “Thank you.”
She’s thinner than the last time I saw her, and paler too. Her auburn hair is pulled into a braid, and she’s wearing her fencing clothes.
“I heard the screaming,” she says. “There are dead guards all over the palace. What’s going on?”
“Dionysus sent them,” I say, “but I have no idea why.”
As we turn toward the center of the room, Phipps pulls his sword from the last satyr still standing.
The entire floor is littered with bodies. Black blood swirls unnaturally with crimson. My stomach crawls at the sight. How could this have happened?
“They were after her,” a nobleman whispers. The sound echoes through the nearly silent hall.
“What did they want with her?” someone else says.
The room goes completely quiet.
Slowly, I realize everyone’s gazes have landed on me.
CHAPTER 3
She’s cursed.” Lord Lucar pushes through the crowd, his eyes (2) wide and his gaze frantic. His smooth black hair sticks out at all angles, and a smear of blood stains his cheek. “My wife is dead! She’s dead. And it’s all because of her. She’ll kill us all.”
Whispers start again around the room. They weave between the nobles and servants, who all no longer care who they’re gossiping with. They slowly drown out the moans and crying as others search around the room for loved ones. They even draw in the people staring listlessly at the ceiling in an attempt to avoid looking at the carnage.
“Princess Kora just helped save you all.” Royce moves through the crowd to stand in front of me, to protect me. His sword still drips globs of black blood.
I put my arm on his and give a nod as I step in front of him. This isn’t his ship where people will listen to him and disperse back to their duties when he gives a command. This is the palace, where people listen only to those who outrank them. At least they’re supposed to, but I can feel the energy in the room turning against me.
I move to straighten the crown on my head—as King Kalisrov would’ve done to draw attention to the power symbol—only to realize I’d left it out on the balcony after it fell off.
I drop my hand, scrambling for what to say that won’t scare them more while also letting them know I have some idea of what’s going on and how to handle it. I only wish I did know how to handle it.
I throw back my shoulders and say with as much authority as I can muster, “Dionysus sent these men.”
Grumbling spreads around the room. I have to talk even louder to be heard. “And I’m going to find out why so it doesn’t happen again.”
Lord Lucar’s eyes are wild. “He was after you.” He jams an accusatory finger in my direction. “We should just get rid of you. You and your family have brought nothing but curses down on us. It’s time we had a real ruler.” His voice cracks as the pain of his loss bursts through.
His words cut into me as sharp as any satyr’s claw, but I set my jaw and refuse to look away. Because if I do, I’m afraid I’ll lose control of the room entirely. I think the only thing saving us from a full-on revolt is the fact everyone is too scared and worn out to fight anymore.
Plus, most of the people holding swords answer to me.
I clear my throat. “For now, we need to tend to the wounded and search the palace to make sure no other satyrs remain. We’ll increase the number of guards as we investigate.”
I close my eyes and do a quick check of the gold up in the tower, using my ability to sense its location. Thankfully, all the pieces are still present. So if that wasn’t the motivation for his attack, what was? And what did he want with me?
Across the room, Tilner moves forward and starts directing the still-standing guards where to take the injured.
As the attention of the room shifts, Royce, Rhat, and Hettie circle around me.
Rhat shoots Hettie a reserved smile, but she stands there stoically.
“What did you do to make Dionysus so mad?” Royce asks.
I shrug. “I have no idea.” I’ve been stuck in the palace for the last month. I haven’t had time to make anyone angry.
Royce eyes the crowd of nobles. “They’re not going to be happy unless we give them some answers.”
I nod. Even I don’t feel safe behind the palace walls anymore. “How do we find Dionysus?”
“You don’t,” my father’s voice cuts in as he hobbles closer. “I tried to locate Dionysus when you were turned to gold.” He takes a steadying breath. “He only appears when he wants to be found.”
“We know he wants Kora,” Hettie says. “Why can’t we use her as bait or something? Wouldn’t he appear then?”
Royce shakes his head. “As much as I want to know what he wants with her,” he says, his eyes meeting mine, “I don’t think drawing him here is a good idea. More people could die.”
I nod. He’s right. I look around the room, at the floor slick with blood. We can’t risk letting Dionysus or his henchmen return. But we need answers, and we need them now.
I scan Royce’s face, hoping he has some sort of plan, even though I know he would’ve already shared it. I shift my gaze to Rhat, who’s chewing on the inside of his cheek, and Hettie, who’s staring at the floor. They’re all as at a loss as I am.
I mentally go over every book and journal I’ve read since arriving home, praying there’s something that tells me what to do. But nothing stands out. Sure, the twin queens Esor and Ayaniv had been betrayed by their head guard and imprisoned. And Queen Teragram had written about how to survive a siege, but I’d come across nothing about a single attack orchestrated by a god. And not just any god. Dionysus.
I’m about to sigh and say we should head to the library to look for any books or ancient scrolls that could help when my gaze lands on the window and the mountains that loom in the distance. The mountains I’d always hated because the Great Oracle—the renown knower of all—was rumored to live there. The same Oracle who’d made the prophecy about my father becoming king and having a prosperous rule, a prophecy that eventually led to my father making a choice that doomed me to live as a golden girl.
“The Great Oracle.” The words come out shakier than I’d meant them to. If anyone has answers, it will be her.
“We tried sending men to her back when . . .” My father trails off. “They never found her cave.”
Nearby, Tilner whips his head around. He clears his throat and steps forward. “If I may, I’m quite fond of studying history.” His eyebrows scrunch in concern. “I studied all the literature I could about the Oracle as well. She’s a particular favorite of mine.”
I stare intently at him. I’d given him a tour of the palace when he first arrived, and he spent half the trip telling me about the man who’d carved the columns in the front entryway. He knows more about my home than I ever will . . . maybe he knows more about my past too.