A Vow So Bold and Deadly (The Cursebreaker Series Book 3)
A Vow So Bold and Deadly: Chapter 35

I scramble backward on the cot so quickly that I nearly fall off the other side. The cards scatter everywhere. I can all but taste my heart in my throat. A winged creature fills the doorway, black eyes gleaming in the torchlight, and I don’t know if I should hide under another cot or make a grab for one of Grey’s weapons.

Did Lilith find me? Did she send this monster after me? Did she do this to Rhen? Did she—

“Harper.” Grey is on his feet, a placating hand held out to me. “Be at ease.”

He’s too calm. Too nonchalant.

Then I notice that Jake and Grey’s “henchmen” have followed the creature into the room. So has Tycho. They look more alarmed at my reaction than at … that.

They’re not freaking out.

No one is freaking out.

Jake glances from me to the creature. “Oh.” He looks abashed and amused in the way only a brother can. “Hey, Harp. This is Iisak. He’s a scraver. And a friend.”

A scraver. I don’t understand how this place still has the capacity to shock me. Iisak is simultaneously terrifying and beautiful, shirtless and barefoot despite the cold, his skin the color of thunderclouds. He’s easily as tall as Grey, though his dark wings make him take up more space, and he’s lean, with corded muscle down his arms. His fingers end in talons.

“The Princess of Disi,” he says, and his voice is a dry rasp, the edges of fangs glinting in the light when he speaks. He offers me a bow, and I can’t quite tell for sure, but I think there’s a hint of mockery to it.

I swallow. “Hi?”

He eases farther into the room as I try to right myself. My weak leg is weaker still because of my injured ankle, and I feel clumsy and uncertain as I manage to get my feet underneath me. I’m completely off balance, which isn’t exactly all that rare, and my heart is still in my throat. Am I supposed to apologize? Curtsy? Run in terror?

I glance from Jake to Grey. “Is this—did you—” My eyes narrow as I try to think of what Lilith could do, the damage she could cause. I can’t shake the feeling that something like this chased me off the grounds of Ironrose. I didn’t see it clearly, but I remember heavy wings that blocked the moonlight, a dark shape that seemed to absorb the shadows. I thought it was Lilith—or something she created. “Is he real?” I ask Grey. “Is this—an enchantment?”

Grey frowns. “He is real.”

“An enchantment!” says Iisak, and at least he sounds amused, because I imagine if he was pissed off he could dismember me in seconds. He draws closer, and I brace myself.

He stops on the other side of the cot, and I can see that his eyes are truly black, no whites at all, and those fangs look razor-sharp. It takes my breath away, but I stand my ground.

“The young prince was right,” he says. “He once said you were brave. A princess in spirit if not by birth.”

The young prince. For a moment, I think he means Rhen, but I can’t make that add up in my head.

But he must mean Grey … which means Grey once said that about me. He’s been so cool and distant since I got here that I thought he’d cut off our friendship the way he once forswore his family, but maybe … maybe I was wrong.

I wet my lips. “I don’t know about brave.”

“You have come seeking assistance from a magesmith,” says Iisak. “You stand and face me, even though I can smell your fear.”

“Iisak,” says Grey, and there’s a warning note in his tone, but also a bit of long-suffering exasperation, too.

Iisak looks at him, and a cool breeze swirls through the room to make me shiver. “She has brought you a problem you cannot hack through with your sword.”

“She has brought a problem we are not bound to solve,” says Nolla Verin from her place by the wall.

A tiny squeaking sound near the floor draws my attention, and I glance down, ready for another nightmarish creature, but it’s Tycho’s tiny orange kitten. Salam. The kitten is winding itself through Iisak’s legs. The scraver scoops it into his hands in a fluid motion, and the kitten almost immediately relaxes against the creature’s chest and begins to purr. It’s disconcerting to see such a frightening creature be almost … tender.

“I have heard enough about this enchantress to believe you are bound to solve it,” Iisak says evenly. His pure black eyes look to my leg. “She has brought you a blade of Iishellasan steel, as well.”

I take a step back automatically, my hand falling over the hilt. “You know what it is?”

“I do.” He holds out a taloned hand. “May I?”

I hesitate.

“What is Iishellasan steel?” says Noah.

“It binds magic,” says Lia Mara.

“Yes,” says Grey. “I once had a bracelet fashioned by the enchantress that allowed me to cross over.”

“This dagger likely repels magic.” The scraver flexes his fingers, gesturing for the weapon. “May I, Princess?” Sᴇaʀch Thᴇ Find ɴøᴠel.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

I don’t want to give it to him. I thought I’d come here with a plan to rescue Rhen, but instead I’ve found myself among no one I can trust.

Jake’s eyes find mine from across the room. “Harp,” my brother says quietly. “He’s okay. You can let him have it.”

I wet my lips, then draw the blade.

The scraver’s hands curl around the hilt. He gently sets the kitten on a cot. “Your hand?” he says to Grey.

Grey’s eyes don’t leave mine, but he holds out a hand fearlessly. The scraver swipes the blade across the back of his hand. One of the guards near the wall swears in their language.

Grey sucks in a breath and jerks back, slapping a hand over the wound. Blood drips behind his fingers. He looks from Iisak to me.

“As I said,” says Iisak, his voice a low growl. “It repels magic.”

Grey lifts his hand. The blood still flows freely. He stares at the wound with an expression of wonder mixed with frustration. “I cannot heal it.”

“Indeed.” The scraver looks at me. “Where did you get this?”

Noah sighs and seizes a roll of muslin from a supply table. “At least I can be useful with this.”

Grey glares at Iisak. “Surely you could have made a smaller example.”

But the scraver is still looking at me. The room temperature seems to drop by fifteen degrees, and I shiver. “Tell me, Princess.” The words edge out with a low growl. “Where did you get this?”

The tension in the room has doubled.

“From Rhen,” I say quietly. “He bought it.”

“From whom?” says Lia Mara.

I hesitate—but Rhen has already lost. I am here. “From a spy,” I whisper.

“A spy!” cries Nolla Verin. She storms across the room. “What spy? What have you—”

“Enough.” Lia Mara’s voice is quiet but strong. “What is the name of this spy?”

“Chesleigh Darington,” I say. “She says her family was killed by Karis Luran. She was able to move among your people.” I hesitate again. “She said there were people in Syhl Shallow who plotted against the throne, that there was a faction against magic that had gathered artifacts.”

Grey and Lia Mara exchange a glance, and I swallow.

“She’s dead,” I whisper. “Lilith killed everyone in the castle—and she was there that night. She would have been among them.”

The room is absolutely silent for the longest time, unbroken until Noah lifts the muslin from the back of Grey’s hand and says, “You’ll need stitches. I’ll get a needle.”

Grey sighs and gives Iisak a withering look again.

Lia Mara’s gaze has turned more appraising. “Tell me more about this enchantress. Do you truly think she will stop with Emberfall?”

“She resents Rhen for his family’s role in destroying her people,” says Grey.

“Syhl Shallow had a role as well,” says Iisak. “The magesmiths would not have been forced to find refuge in Emberfall if they had been welcome here.” He pauses, peering at me, and another cold lick of wind whispers against my cheek. “Why did you think I was an enchantment?”

Literally nothing about my arrival here has gone the way I expected it to. But maybe I needed to shatter my expectations before I could start over. “Because of what she did to Rhen,” I whisper. “Because of what she did to me.” I glance at Grey. “Because of what she did to you.”

He says nothing. His gaze is heavy.

“You know what she’s doing to him,” I say. “You remember. I know you do.” My voice breaks. We were so close to some kind of … something before the scraver walked in here, and I wish I could reverse time to that moment. “Please, Grey. I know I have nothing to offer. No kingdom, no alliance. But please. You have to help me save him. Please.”

None of them look like they want to help me. None of them even look sympathetic. Scary Grey is in full effect. Jake is stoic and impassive—it’s no secret how he feels about Rhen.

“I once begged him for mercy, too,” says Grey.

“So did I,” says Tycho, and his voice is quiet but strong.

That hits me like a dart to the chest. I know they did. I remember. I probably have no right to ask Grey for anything on Rhen’s behalf.

“What does she want?” says Lia Mara. “This enchantress.”

“She wants to rule Emberfall,” I say. “She wants to force Rhen to stand at her side while she does it.”

“And why is she so cruel?”

The question forces me still. “Does it matter? Why is anyone cruel?”

“There is always a reason,” says Lia Mara. “And if she intends to set herself as my adversary in your stead, I believe it to be relevant.” She comes to stand beside Grey. When she looks up at him, he looks back at her, and his expression changes, softening.

I expect her to ask if Lilith will be a threat to her country, or whether it’s worth exploiting Rhen’s sudden weakness to take advantage.

Instead, Lia Mara reaches out to take his hand, and his fingers curl around hers so gently that it’s almost as incongruous as the scraver picking up the kitten.

Lia Mara says, “He is your brother, Grey.” Her voice is so quiet. “Do you want to save him?”

Grey hesitates, then looks at me. “Why did he buy that dagger from a spy?”

I hear what he’s asking. Did Rhen buy it to use against me? Or did he buy it to use against Lilith?

I’m not sure what to say.

I’m not sure he needs me to say it.

“This was war,” I whisper.

His jaw tightens, and Grey takes the dagger and shoves it into his belt. He looks back at Lia Mara, then to the waiting soldiers, including my brother. “Lilith will not stop with Rhen,” he says. “She must know Syhl Shallow was planning to attack. She may have no interest in war, but she has plenty of interest in conflict. Rhen would have tried to spare his soldiers, to mount a defense with the least loss of human life.” Another pause. “Lilith will not care. She will force him to send soldier after soldier into battle, until they’re all dead. His and ours.”

“Do you think you can stop her?” Lia Mara says.

Grey looks at Iisak. “We can try.”

For the first time since arriving here, hope blooms in my chest. “Wait. Really?”

“He has a regiment already stationed at the border,” Grey says. “We would need a small team of soldiers, because she is expecting a full assault, and not for another few days. Captain Solt, choose from your company. No more than ten. We will need to leave at full dark.”

“Grey,” I whisper, my voice full of wonder. “You’ll do it? You’ll save him?”

“I will stop Lilith,” he says, and his voice is cold and dark. “I will protect Syhl Shallow.” He pauses. “Rhen’s life is not my concern.”

He turns away, but he may as well have stabbed me with the dagger before leaving. I have to press a hand to my abdomen.

“Come,” says Lia Mara. She takes my hand. “I will see to it that you have a room.”

I don’t want to like anything here, but the palace really is magnificent. I’m given a massive room with huge windows that look out over sprawling fields and the mountainside. I hoped Jake would come sit with me for a bit, but I haven’t seen him. I haven’t seen anyone. Food is brought, but for the most part, I’m left alone. The sun appears to be setting over the mountains, spilling pink and purple streaks across the glittering city.

I don’t even know if they’re taking me with them. Will they leave me here? Will I be some kind of prisoner in case things go south with Rhen? I hadn’t considered that. Grey was so cold when he turned away and began issuing orders.

I once begged him for mercy.

He did beg. I remember. But is that all that matters? They spent an eternity together, enduring the most terrible things I can imagine, but their relationship will boil down to one poor choice? And even as I think that, was the poor choice Rhen’s, when he ordered his guards to find some whips, or was the poor choice Grey’s, when he decided to run, when he chose to keep his birthright a secret?

I don’t know who I’m kidding. They were both wrong. Sometimes we make such poor choices that the good ones pale in comparison.

A hand raps at the door, and I nearly jump. “Enter,” I call. I hope for my brother.

Instead, I get Grey. He’s alone.

I’m so surprised that I stare at him for a long moment before scraping myself out of the chair to stand. “Grey.”

“I will have armor brought,” he says without preamble. “You will not be allowed to carry a weapon.”

“I’m going?” I say in surprise.

“There is worry that this is a trap.”

My mouth flattens into a line. “So I’m your hostage.”

His expression gives nothing away. “In truth, I was hoping you would serve as an advisor. My soldiers will not know what to expect as we head into Emberfall.” He pauses. “It would go a long way toward establishing goodwill.”

“If I have a chance at rescuing Rhen, I’ll do whatever you need.”

He says nothing to that. He glances at my leg. “You are still injured. I can heal the damage.”

I freeze in place. “With magic.”

“It would be better if you were not a burden on the journey.”

“Well.” I drop into the chair. “I wouldn’t want to be a burden.”

Grey isn’t one to be baited. He draws a low stool close and drops to sit in front of me, wasting no time in reaching for the laces of my boots. Noah has stitched up the back of his hand, a tiny row of black knots. Grey is so clinical, so efficient, but I shiver anyway. I have so many memories of him, all rooted in my first days in Emberfall. The way he caught my arm and showed me how to hold a dagger. The way he stood at my back and taught me how to throw a knife. How he’d catch my fist when he taught me to throw a punch, or the way he’d adjust my stance when I first began learning swordplay.

The way he was hurt and terrified in my apartment after Noah stitched him up, how his eyes kept seeking mine for reassurance.

How he unbuckled his bracers in the filthy alley in Washington, DC, buckling them onto my forearms.

I have no coins or jewels to leave you with, he said. But I do have weapons.

The way he saved me from the Syhl Shallow soldiers on the battlefield, how he pulled me into his arms. I will keep her safe, he said to Rhen.

Oh, Grey. I can understand why he’s mad at Rhen, but I never truly thought about what it would mean for me and Grey to be on opposite sides of this war. Maybe I could have played fate’s cards differently anywhere along the line and we could have been more than friends, but I didn’t. He didn’t. I think about that moment in the courtyard behind the Crooked Boar, when he went with Lia Mara and I went back to Rhen. I wonder where we’d be now if I had made a different choice. If he had. I wonder what it would be like to look on Rhen as an enemy, as someone on the other side of a battlefield, and the thought makes my heart stutter.

Whatever Grey and I are, I don’t want to be enemies. I don’t want him and Rhen to be enemies. My throat tightens. I can’t breathe.

I must make a sound or a motion that catches his attention, because he looks up in alarm. “My lady,” he says softly.

My lady. I can’t take it. I throw myself forward and wrap my arms around his neck. “Please, Grey,” I say, pressing my tear-streaked face into his shoulder. “You were my friend. Please don’t be like this.”

It’s probably the most reckless move in the world, because he has about four million weapons, and there are plenty of people in this castle who think it’d be easier if I were in a grave right now.

But Grey catches me, his strong hands gentle against my waist. He drops his head, and I feel more than hear his sigh. He doesn’t quite hold me, but he doesn’t shove me away.

“Please,” I say. “I don’t want to be your enemy.”

“Nor do I.” His voice is very low, very quiet. “I do not want to be Rhen’s either.”

I draw back a bit to look at him. “But … you won’t rescue him.”

“We have been preparing for war, Harper. I offered him trust. I offered him friendship. I offered him brotherhood. He rejected them all, and I have had to make peace with that. As it is, these soldiers hardly trust me. What you heard from Solt and Nolla Verin will not be the end of it. I cannot make this a mission to rescue him. They would refuse.”

“We could go alone! We could—”

“Alone? I have spent weeks at Lia Mara’s side, convincing this army I am allied with their queen. Convincing these soldiers that I stand with them. How could I disappear in the middle of the night with the Princess of Disi?”

This all feels so fruitless. “But—”

“No, Harper. I will not do that to them.” His eyes darken, his tone sharpening. “I certainly will not do it to her.”

I go still. There’s a protective note in his voice that I haven’t heard before. A look in his eyes. I have to draw back farther, shifting into the chair to study him. I was stuck on all the loyalty and strategic talk that reminds me so much of Rhen, but now I’m focused on the last part of that sentence, on the intensity in his gaze.

Oh. Oh.

He’s in love with her.

“I can take action to protect Syhl Shallow,” Grey continues. “And I will.” He pauses. “I cannot promise to protect Rhen,” he says. “But I can make a vow to destroy Lilith, if I am able.”

“And if Rhen survives, what then? What happens to this war?”

“You said he wanted peace, did you not?”

“He does,” I say. “He does. I swear it.”

“Good.” Grey pulls the boot off my foot, all business again. “If he survives, then he can prove it.”

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