Two Dark Reigns (Three Dark Crowns #3)(74)

“Has she always been there?” Billy murmurs as she raises her long sinewy arms. And the mist dissipates.

The three of them exhale and lean against the railing. They laugh with relief.

“What in the world was that?” the captain asks.

“They did not see her.” Mirabella looks up at the now empty sky.

“Good. If they had, they’d have taken her for a witch and probably thrown us overboard. Look.” Arsinoe gestures ahead. Across the water lies the shores of what can only be Fennbirn Island.

“Where did that come from?” one of the fishers asks.

“Never mind,” says Billy. “It’s what we were looking for.”

Arsinoe claps him on the back as he goes to make arrangements with the captain to get them ashore. Though they just sailed through the mist, they are already too close to identify what part of the island they have come upon. But it does not really matter. Daphne must have brought them there for a reason, and there are no black spires in sight.

After speaking with the captain, Billy returns with a dubious expression.

“Here’s a complication. There are no small crafts or rowboats on board and not a dock in sight. Do we pick a direction and sail to the nearest port or—”

“No.” With the island so close, Arsinoe cannot wait any longer. “Have him take us as far into the shallows as he can. Then we’ll swim.”

“Arsinoe, it’s freezing! And you have no idea how far we are from the nearest town.”

“So we’ll start a fire.”

Billy sputters. “What about Mira? She can’t swim in that corset and all those petticoats. She’ll drown!”

“Actually,” Mirabella says, staring over the side, “I do not think I will drown.”

Arsinoe leans over. Her sister is shifting the current in small swirls that as she watches grow into contrary little waves.

Mirabella turns and shouts to the captain.

“Take us in as far as you can!” She looks at Arsinoe and Billy, her smile broad, the happiest Arsinoe has seen her in months. “And you two. Prepare for the easiest swim of your lives.”

Though the crew initially objects to Arsinoe and Mirabella swimming, they eventually bring the boat into the shallows. So far, in fact, that Arsinoe has to tell them to stop, for fear they will beach and have to come ashore themselves.

As soon as they drop anchor, Mirabella dives over the side. Her splash brings the crew shouting and leaning over, too late to try and stop her.

“Thank you, captain,” Arsinoe says, and shakes his hand. “I am truly grateful for your service. But now I had better get after my sister.” She steps up onto the rail and crouches. “Billy, don’t forget the bags!”

She jumps in, never that much of a swimmer, and her jaw instantly locks from the cold. Her arms and legs seize up as well, so she can barely grab for the satchel that Billy throws into the water.

Another splash, and she hears him shout and curse her for such a stupid idea. But then Mirabella’s current takes hold and ferries them toward shore.

“Pretend to swim,” she says, teeth chattering. “Or it’ll look strange.”

“I’m too cold to even pretend, you arse,” he says, and a moment later their toes drag against the sand.

Miserably freezing, they join Mirabella on the beach and wave to the slack-jawed fishers on the boat.

“What must they think of what they found?” Mirabella asks.

“Doesn’t matter,” Arsinoe replies. “They won’t be able to find it again if they try. Not unless they’re meant to.” She turns and looks past the beach to the dense green moss and flat, gray stone.

“Good Goddess, I’ve missed this terrible place.”





INDRID DOWN TEMPLE




With tired eyes, Pietyr cracks open yet another book from the many shelves of the temple library. He has been there since before dawn after creeping out of Katharine’s bed and onto the back of a cranky, half-awake horse. Riding through the dark streets to slip into the library with a lamp and a sheaf of paper. Hours later, the paper is mostly blank. He has not come across much about the dead queens or even about exorcism, and when he does, he must be careful what he writes in case someone were to find the notes.

He leans back and stretches, and the light of one of the small windows catches him in the eye. He has no idea what time it is. It could be near midday. He bends over the book, scours a few pages, and shuts it again. Part of him wants to quit. It is not as though getting rid of the dead queens is something that Katharine wants. Not when they have convinced her how much she needs them.

But she does not need them. They forced her hand to take that young boy’s life. Their existence is an affront to the Goddess. It is their presence that has caused the mist to rise. It must be.

If he does not find a way to stop them, they will cost Katharine everything.

He takes the book back to its shelf. The library on the lower level of the temple is not large. The entirety of it could be fit into a corner of the one at Greavesdrake. But it is well stocked. The texts here are ancient and preserved nicely, not a speck of dust on the spines and no whiff of mold even near the binding. Some of the pages actually smell rather like fresh parchment simply from being so rarely read. He was sure he would find something here. But every tale of spiritual possession he has come across has been written about shallowly. Treatments simply alluded to and sometimes the outcome not mentioned at all.