A Promise of Fire (Kingmaker Chronicles, #1)(61)

His blue eyes twinkling, Kato heaves a sigh of relief when I finally reappear. “That was the strangest two days of my life. It was like talking to a realm-walking spirit.”

“With an attitude,” Flynn remarks.

“You could have just pretended I wasn’t there. That’s the point of invisibility.” Instead, they’d hammered me with questions. Royals, realms, Magoi, magical creatures, the Ice Plains, the Lake Oracles. My voice is hoarse from talking when all I’d wanted was to be left alone. I need to think about Andromeda, what might come next, what I’ve gotten myself into with the Sintans, and not at all about Griffin’s kiss.

Not. At. All.

No.

At least all this talking has filled me in on a thing or two concerning the new Sintan royals. It turns out Carver isn’t Gamma Sinta like I’d assumed. He’s Delta Sinta. There’s a brother, Piers, between Griffin and Carver who’s in charge of the army when Griffin isn’t there. After Carver, there are two younger sisters, Jocasta and Kaia. Their parents, Anatole and Nerissa, are still alive. Anatole led their tribe for forty years, making it one of the most powerful in the realms, before passing the reins to Griffin.

The idea of buttercup Egeria being Alpha while her father is still alive and she has strong, warrior brothers shocks me to the core. It doesn’t work that way. How could a warlord from the south sweep in and shake up everything so thoroughly, including me?

Panotii tosses his head, protesting my death grip on the reins.

“Sorry,” I mutter, patting his neck and trying to relax.

“I’m happy to see you,” Griffin says, his unhurried gaze roaming over me and snagging on places that make my temperature rise. “I didn’t fancy introducing my family to a person they couldn’t see.”

We’re two days from Sinta City and a future that promises to be sheer torture. “I have conditions.”

Griffin smiles with just enough resigned humor to make me want to kick him in the teeth. “Why am I not surprised?” he asks.

I open my mouth and sparks fly out.

“Steal that from the Dragon?” He doesn’t even look impressed. He’s relaxed, in a good mood. They all are. Carver is even whistling. They forced me out of hiding after eight years. We fought off thirty men and survived. We killed a She-Dragon driven by Alpha Fisa, by far the most powerful mortal in Thalyria. We could be attacked at any time by only the Gods know what. What is wrong with these people?

“Your fire won’t work on me,” Griffin says. “You’d end up frying Brown Horse, and then I’d have to ride the chestnut.”

“Panotii. At least my horse has a real name.”

“Panotii? Because of his ears?” He studies Panotii’s head for a few seconds and then chuckles. “Maybe he’s part donkey.”

“Shhh! Don’t say that. You might hurt his feelings.”

“He’s a horse.”

“He’s my horse. Any attack on him is an attack on me,” I say frostily.

“You’re the one who named him after people who are supposed to have ears down to their feet.” Griffin’s mouth tips up at the corners, drawing my eyes to the distracting curve of his lips. Full lips. Warm lips. Firm, demanding, possessive—

Gah! Get a grip!

“Panotii.” His oversized ears swivel in my direction. “Let’s ditch these southerners and find some people who understand us.”

Flynn pulls up on my left, so tall and broad he shadows me from the afternoon sun. “You like us too much for that,” he says, his cheerful smile threatening to infect me with something awful, like a good mood. “And everything’s going great.”

“Great? You almost died. Twice! We all did.”

He shrugs, grinning. “But we didn’t. And you’re funny.”

Funny? Funny! I grin back. I can’t help it. I’m such an idiot.

“So what are your conditions?” Griffin asks.

My smile dies as I turn back to him. “First, no one outside of this group ever knows I’m the Kingmaker. Most people don’t even know what that is, but I can’t take the risk. Tell them I’m a soothsayer and can read people. That’s it.”

“I’ll have to tell Egeria.”

“I mean it, Griffin. No one. If one day I decide to trust Egeria, I’ll tell her. But you won’t. None of you will.”

“Or?”

“Or I won’t help you. You won’t enjoy trying to get the truth out of me, and I won’t break under torture.”

“Are you sure?” he asks.

“Am I sure I won’t break? I thought we covered this.”

“Are you sure I won’t enjoy getting the truth out of you,” he clarifies. His eyes brighten with mischief, and I’m pretty sure his mind is somewhere it shouldn’t be. Definitely shouldn’t be.

A flush crawls up my neck, and he laughs. The warm, teasing sound seems to take up residence inside me, lightening my bones.

“Stop flashing your teeth,” I grumble. “They’re blinding me.”

“I don’t like it, but I’ll agree,” Griffin says, still smiling. “You’ll report directly to me on any lies you hear and the truths they reveal.”

I look around the group. Carver is staring straight ahead, but he hasn’t missed a word. Flynn appears unconcerned, huge ax slung over one shoulder. Kato grins at me, looking like Adonis—too handsome for his own good.