The Shadow Queen (Ravenspire, #1)(5)






TWO


EARLY THE NEXT morning, they headed east toward the small village of Tranke. The town was built along the road that led east over the Falkrains and into the neighboring kingdom of Eldr. With an ogre war raging across Eldr, rumor had it that Eldrian refugees with pockets full of jewels were moving through Tranke, desperate to trade for food and drink. Gabril was hoping they might have other items to trade as well—items Lorelai could use to practice her magic.

The three of them walked in silence. Clouds scudded across the gray sky, and the crisp, wet bite of an impending snowstorm chased a shiver down her spine as they climbed the same road the treasury wagon had followed the day before. Sasha flew in lazy spirals overhead, her white wings blending in against the clouds.

Want food? Sasha sent an image of a small rodent scurrying along the underbrush.

I don’t even know what that is.

All tastes the same.

Not to me.

Eat raw. Tastes the same. Try? Sasha dipped her wing and circled her prey.

I can’t eat raw animals. Lorelai shuddered. And stop sending me images of spleens and bones and other things I don’t want to put into my mouth.

Can give you some for brother. Sasha’s amusement drifted into Lorelai’s mind like a cold breeze.

Lorelai smirked at Leo, who raised a brow and then glared up at the sky. “The two of you are conspiring against me again, aren’t you?”

“She just wants to share her lunch with you.”

Leo blanched. “Last time she shared, I got a face full of rabbit guts from above. You tell your bird to keep her victims to herself.”

He doesn’t want any. Is the road ahead clear of soldiers?

No soldiers. Safe. Sasha dove for the ground and something shrieked as she found her prey.

Safe. Lorelai frowned as she walked past thick oaks whose trunks had large patches of rot clinging to them. Soldiers weren’t the true danger in Ravenspire. If Irina didn’t stop draining the land with the demands of her magic, there wouldn’t be anything left of Lorelai’s kingdom when she was ready to challenge the queen for the throne.

The thought that she might have to face Irina sooner than she’d anticipated sank into her stomach like a stone. Ignoring Sasha’s thoughts about her meal and Leo’s attempts to come up with a name for their daring escapades, Lorelai mentally picked up each piece of her plan and examined it for weakness.

Step one: Rob the treasury wagons. Six robberies already accomplished without mishap.

Step two: Find a safe contact in each village who could distribute the goods to those in need. Gabril had taken care of that to mitigate the risk that someone untrustworthy might see the resemblance between Lorelai and the late king and curry favor with the queen by reporting it.

Step three: Let the rumors of the robberies become attached to the idea of the princess returning to claim her throne so that she could build a base of loyalty. She hadn’t actually figured out how to do that yet.

She hadn’t, but Leo had. She glanced at him and sighed. She was never going to hear the end of this.

“You’re right, Leo,” she said. Gabril and Leo turned to look at her as the road dipped between a stand of pines whose needles were turning brown and a meadow of brittle grass.

“Of course I am.” He paused. “About what?”

“We need a name. Something that can give the villagers someone to be loyal to.”

Leo’s eyes lit up. “That’s what I’ve been telling you. And I overlooked Gabril’s involvement—my apologies—which opens up an entirely new list of possibilities. The Fearsome Threesome.”

“Not quite,” Lorelai said.

“The Triumphant Trio.”

“No.” Gabril turned on his heel and kept walking.

“We could always return to the Royal Rogues. No number specified.”

“No,” Gabril and Lorelai said together.

Leo huffed out a breath. “You two display such a staggering lack of imagination, it’s a wonder I survive.”

“We’ll have to put some more thought into it,” Lorelai said.

“Meanwhile, the two of you haven’t been practicing courtly conversation like I asked.” Gabril’s voice was stern. “You can’t interact with our nobility or that of Ravenspire’s allies if you forget your etiquette.”

“I never forget my etiquette.” Leo looked wounded.

“You aren’t the sibling I’m concerned about.” Gabril gave Lorelai a meaningful look, and she huffed impatiently.

“Courtly conversation is tedious. I have better things to do.”

“Better things than convincing our nobility that you can lead a kingdom, maintain its allies, secure new ones, and interact with royalty without bringing shame upon the kingdom of Ravenspire?”

“I was kind of hoping vanquishing Irina would take care of all that.”

Leo grinned. “I could be your mouthpiece. Think of it! You’d be the mysterious mardushka who never speaks, and I’d be the voice of Ravenspire issuing orders, correcting fashion disasters—Did you see what Lord Horst was wearing last time we were in his village? Ghastly.—and assuring one and all that my sister can smite them where they stand if they don’t obey.”

Gabril raised a brow at Lorelai.

“Okay, fine. I’ll practice courtly conversation.”

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