Home > Books > The War of Two Queens (Blood and Ash, #4)(101)

The War of Two Queens (Blood and Ash, #4)(101)

Author:Jennifer L. Armentrout

“A set of cufflinks and a person could both be cherished and needed,” Perry agreed, and I willed myself to stay quiet. There seemed to be a process to Sven recalling these things, and his son knew it well. “Do you remember what that spell called for?”

Sven didn’t answer for a long moment. “Yeah, it was a fairly simple one. Only a few items needed. A piece of parchment to write upon. The blood the item belonged to—or in our case, the person—and another cherished item belonging to the same person.”

“Well, those items will be a bit hard to come by,” Kieran stated. “Starting with the fact that we’d need Cas to get his blood.”

“Not necessarily,” Sven objected. “The blood doesn’t have to come from his veins.”

“It could come from someone who has fed from him,” I said.

Sven nodded. “That, or a relative—any relative. But your blood will work.”

Relief shuddered through me, though it was brief.

“But we also need a cherished item,” Delano said, leaning forward.

“Poppy?” Kieran suggested and then quickly added, “Not that I think you’re an item or that you belong in that kind of way to Cas, but—”

“It would have to be an actual item,” Sven stepped in. “Something that belongs to them.”

“The journal?” Perry suggested.

“Journal?” Valyn repeated.

My face heated as I quickly spoke, preventing anyone else from going into detail. “While I believe he cherishes that, it’s not technically his. It belongs—wait.” Unfolding my arm, I reached to where the pouch was secured at my hip. My heart started racing as I pulled it free. “I have something of his.” I swallowed as I tugged open the strings keeping it closed and pulled out the tiny wooden horse. “This.”

“Gods,” Valyn rasped. “I haven’t seen that in ages.”

Kieran stared at it. He hadn’t known what was in the pouch. He’d never asked. His voice was rough when he said, “Malik made that for him. He…he made one for me at the same time.”

“I don’t know why I picked it up when we left the palace.” I held the toy horse tightly. “I just did.”

“That should work,” Sven said. “You’ll need to be in the general vicinity of where you think he may be. A building. The neighborhood. I know we don’t know where he’s being held, but if we can narrow it down, this spell should help.”

The spell wasn’t the answer to finding Casteel, but it was something. Something that would definitely help if we could narrow things down.

If I could reach Casteel again in our dreams, maybe I could get that information.

I stared at the horse, no longer entirely convinced that the Arae weren’t real, and unable to stop myself from wondering if the Fates had played a hand in this.

Either way, I had hope, and that was such a remarkable, confusing thing.

Fragile.

Contagious.

Breakable.

But, ultimately, beautiful.

A throat cleared from the entrance, drawing our attention to where Lin now stood next to Hisa. “I’m sorry to interrupt, Your Highness, but someone’s arrived at the gates, asking to speak with you. They say they’ve come from Atlantia, but I do not recognize either of them.”

Hisa frowned as I glanced at Kieran. “Did you get any names?”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry. If any were given they were not shared with me.”

Curiosity rose. I had no idea who could have arrived from Evaemon. “Where are they now?”

“They’ve been escorted to Redrock and should be arriving any moment.”

Turning to Sven, I thanked him for his help and then left the chamber. Kieran and Delano followed close, as did Valyn.

“This is odd,” Kieran remarked.

“Agreed.” Hisa led the way with Lin as we entered the wide hall. “I cannot think of any who would travel from Atlantia that weren’t already with us.”

Guards opened the doors, and we stepped out into the fading sunlight. My gaze swept over the tents that had been set up and the piles of rubble from the destroyed inner walls, stopping on two people walking around a small horse-drawn wagon. I recognized the warm blond hair, golden skin, and the unique beauty of Gianna Davenwell. The appearance of Alastir’s great-niece was a shock. She was one of the few wolven who remained in Evaemon to guard the capital, but when the one who walked with her lowered the hood of the cloak all the air went out of my lungs at the sight of rich, warm brown skin and the mass of tight, snow-white curls.