Inkmistress (Of Fire and Stars 0.5)(50)

A shock ran through me. Her plans to exact revenge on the king were already in motion?

“Are you going to challenge the king for the crown?” I asked tentatively. Or had she already found the Fatestone and figured out how best to use it to make him suffer?

“I’m not stupid enough to want the crown,” Nismae scoffed. “My family is too important to me.” She gestured to Hal, then the rest of the room. “Monarchs don’t get to have this. I do.”

I looked around, knowing she was right. Family meant vulnerability—too many pathways to hit people where it hurt most: their hearts.

“I could have been the king’s second. His top adviser. He could have had my knife and scrolls in exchange for his ear, but he chose to betray me instead.” Her expression hardened so subtly it was barely visible. She’d obviously cultivated the art of restraint.

“I wish he’d made a different decision,” Hal said.

“You and me both,” Nismae said. She turned back to me. “So if you don’t want to join us, what can I do for you?”

“Hal told me how broad your research was, so I thought you might know of a place called Atheon.” I kept my voice very careful, studying her response. I couldn’t bring myself to show her Veric’s letter. I wasn’t yet ready to give up the only extant piece of my past—and I didn’t want to know what she’d make of my blood gift. No good could come of her knowing I could shape the future, or that my blood could be enchanted for mortal use.

“Heard of it, yes. Know where it is, no. It’s a name that refers to one of the ancient Corovjan royal crypts,” Nismae said.

Hope rose in me. “So it still exists?”

“Exists? Certainly. But most of the crypts are in interconnected tunnels beneath Corovja. Nearly all the entrances have caved in or been built over. I doubt anyone besides the shadow god knows where it is. Good luck getting her to talk to you.” Nismae laughed.

“What do you mean, only the shadow god knows where it is?” I asked.

“About one hundred and fifty years ago, the fox king decided he wanted to be buried with all his monarchal treasures. He burned all the crypt maps and burial records during his reign so that no one would be able to take his riches from him, even in death. Historians and cartographers may never be able to re-create them,” she said with disgust. “Greedy bastard.”

“I remember you complaining about the fox king before,” Hal said.

“He had very little regard for the history of his kingdom, which is probably why he only managed to rule for five years before the hawk queen took the throne. But the damage to the records was done before they laid him to rest. He planned well.”

“So there are no maps of Atheon or the other crypts . . . but are there lists of what might be in them? Or other clues to where they might be?” I asked.

Nismae shook her head.

Despair wormed its way in, crushing the air from my lungs. How was I ever going to find Atheon and the Fatestone now?

“Why are you looking for Atheon, anyway?” Nismae asked.

I refocused on her, trying to gather myself.

“It’s the only clue I have about someone who might be part of my family. He died a long time ago,” I said glumly. I didn’t want to tell her it had anything to do with the Fatestone—not yet. I didn’t know if I could trust her.

“I’m sorry,” Nismae said. “Family is important. It’s the only thing you can count on in this world.” She looked at Hal with love in her eyes, and he smiled back at her.

I tried to smile, too, but the expression wouldn’t quite come.

“So tell me what happened after Valenko,” Nismae said.

Hal launched into our story, with Nismae asking questions to methodically extract all the information she could. The only time she broke eye contact with him to glance at me was when he told her about how I’d chased the dragon out of the Tamers’ forest. He left out my history with Ina, perhaps because he understood it was only mine to reveal.

As for Ina, I hoped she was far, far away, still in that town to the west where the merchant’s cousin had seen her. Even though she was the one who had declared she never wanted to see me again, the longer we were apart, the less certain I was that I had any desire to face her either. I wanted to fix our history, but now more for myself than her. The guilt I carried might still be possible to ease if I could restore Amalska. But once that guilt was gone . . . I wasn’t sure what would be left.

Now that I knew Nismae couldn’t help me, all I wanted was to leave. It didn’t seem like she knew any more about the Fatestone than I did, and the longer we stayed, the more uncomfortable I became. These weren’t my people. I couldn’t see myself becoming a part of their community.

In that moment, I wondered if Hal might leave with me if I asked him to. Perhaps seeking the Fatestone alone was a foolish quest. The subtle ways he was considerate comforted me and gave me strength to go on. The ways he’d made me laugh had filled me with the only happiness I’d known since leaving Amalska. I wasn’t sure I could stand to lose him yet. But I didn’t know if his sister would let him go—or if he’d even want to leave.

As it turned out, I didn’t get a chance to ask.





CHAPTER 20


THE FOLLOWING NIGHT I WAS TALKING WITH POE AND the other medics and herbalists in the common room when the door swung open. I raised my head, startled, having become accustomed to the way the Nightswifts entered and exited only through the window as birds.