Crush the King (Crown of Shards #3)(26)

The boy didn’t seem to realize that I was watching him. Instead, he kept looking at something on his side of the glass, something out of my line of sight.

“You have to go through the mirror,” he said in a low, desperate voice. “It’s the only way.”

At first I thought he was talking to Maeven and telling her what to do, as strange as that would have been. Then talons scraped on the floor, and a creature hopped into view.

A strix.

The strix was a hawklike bird with bright purple eyes, a sharp, pointed black beak, and curved black talons. Its feathers were a deep, vibrant amethyst, and every single one on its broad, strong wings and long, wide tail was tipped with a glossy black marking, making the creature look like it had onyx arrows attached to its body.

Mortan soldiers often rode strixes into battle, and the creatures were one of the reasons why Morta was such a threat to Bellona. Not only did the creatures grow to be larger and stronger than Floresian horses, but they were also taught to attack with their wings, and those hard onyx points on their feathers were sharp enough to slice a man to shreds.

This strix was about the size of a large dog. It wasn’t a baby, but it wasn’t fully grown yet either, just like the boy wasn’t a child and hadn’t yet morphed into a man. Still, even now the creature was dangerous, and my hand dropped to my sword.

“Please,” the boy begged, a louder, more desperate note in his voice. “Just hop through the mirror. That’s all you have to do. Then you can break through a window and fly away. You can finally be free, even if I can’t.”

The strix shook its head and ruffled its wings in a clear, resounding no. It didn’t want to go through the mirror. But the more important question was why the boy wanted to send it here.

Was this Maeven’s latest scheme? The other members of the Bastard Brigade hadn’t succeeded in killing me yet, so maybe she was going to start sending strixes after me. Although if that was the case, why not send one that was fully grown? And what did the boy—her son—have to do with this?

I decided to find out.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, but this mirror only lets people see and talk to each other,” I called out, rapping my knuckles on the ebony frame. “It doesn’t let you send things through to the other side.”

The boy jerked and stumbled back, almost tripping over the strix, who squawked in surprise and hopped out of the way. The boy’s head snapped around, and he finally looked at me. He also had Maeven’s eyes, those dark amethyst eyes that were so beautiful and yet the bane of my existence at the same time.

“What—what are you doing here?” the boy asked.

“This mirror is in my palace, so I have every right to be here.”

His gaze swept over me, lingering on the tearstone sword and dagger belted to my waist. His face paled, and he shifted on his feet and wet his lips. “You’re—you’re the Bellonan queen,” he finally whispered.

“Yes, I am. Now, who are you and what are you doing in Maeven’s chambers?”

He grimaced, but he kept quiet.

“You might as well tell me. Or would you prefer that I ask your mother the next time I speak to her?”

He jerked again in obvious surprise. Unlike his mother, the boy was terrible at hiding his emotions. “How—how do you know that I’m Maeven’s son?”

“Because you look just like her. I’ve seen enough members of the Bastard Brigade to recognize Maeven’s spawn.”

The boy grimaced again, and hurt flickered in his eyes. I wondered if he was a bastard like his mother was. Probably, given his reaction.

Even though he was a Mortan and the son of my most hated enemy, a surprising amount of sympathy filled me. Over the past several months, I had watched Sullivan deal with being a bastard prince, along with Dahlia’s betrayal. Even if she loved the boy, it couldn’t be easy having Maeven for a mother. I could also hear Diante’s voice whispering in my mind, asking me to judge her grandson Nico on his own merits, instead of my complicated feelings for the lady herself.

“What’s your name?” I asked in a gentler tone.

The boy stared at me with suspicion.

“I’m going to find it out sooner or later. You can tell me now, or I can ask your mother. Since it doesn’t look like she’s around, I imagine that she’ll be very upset about you using the Cardea mirror without her permission.”

The boy grimaced for a third time. Oh, no. He definitely didn’t want Maeven learning about this, which made me even more curious as to what exactly this was.

“If I tell you my name, will you promise not to tell my mother that you saw me here?” he asked, that desperate note in his voice again. “Or that Lyra was with me?”

It took me a moment to realize that Lyra was the strix. Interesting. I didn’t think the Mortans were sentimental enough to actually name the creatures.

“I promise. Now, who are you?”

The boy eyed me with suspicion again, but his shoulders slowly slumped in defeat. “Leonidas.”

“Hello, Leonidas. My name is Everleigh. Now, why don’t you tell me why you want to send Lyra through the mirror and into my palace?”

He shook his head. “I don’t want to send her into your palace. Not really. I don’t care where she goes, as long as it’s far away from here.”