Only the Destined. Морган Райс

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СКАЧАТЬ at that, because she knew it wouldn’t work. No, she couldn’t go looking for her sister. She had to go looking for her husband. She had to find him, and if she could stomach it, she had to play the part that fate had given her, as his wife. If she could bear to do that until her child was born and recognized, then she could be rid of Altfor and rule as mother of the heir to the dukedom, for the good of everyone involved.

      It was a desperate plan, but right then, it was the only one she had. Making it work would be the hard part. She didn’t know where Altfor was. She knew where he would be going, though: he had lost, and so he would be seeking help, heading to the king. Genevieve knew then where she had to go.

      “I need to get to the royal court,” she said.

      CHAPTER THREE

      Royce clung to the railing of the ship, willing it to move faster, his attention stretched out over the waves through Ember’s eyes. Above him, the hawk wheeled and shrieked, calling out above the waves and occasionally plunging down toward them to take some small seabird that had become too tempting a target.

      But Royce’s attention was on more than that. He reached out as deep as he could into Ember’s consciousness, searching for any sign of Lori, any chance to talk to the witch who had sent them this way and find out more about his father. There was nothing though, just the rolling of the sea and the glimmer of the sun.

      “You’ve been standing up here for hours,” Mark said, coming to join him.

      “It hasn’t been hours,” Royce insisted.

      “Since sunup,” Mark said, looking a little concerned. “You and the wolf.”

      Gwylim huffed beside Royce, the bhargir clearly not liking being referred to as just a wolf. Royce found himself wondering just how much the creature understood as they traveled. Several times, Ember had landed beside him, and Royce had the impression of some silent communication going on.

      “Gwylim isn’t a wolf,” Royce said. “And I was hoping that Lori would have another message for me.”

      “I know,” Mark said.

      “Has it caused problems?” Royce asked.

      “It’s meant that I’ve been the one mediating all the arguments between the others.”

      “There are enough of those,” Royce guessed.

      “More than enough,” Mark said. “Neave and Matilde seem to have decided on arguing as the best way to declare their love. Bolis is so stuck up, and the presence of one of the Picti here is enough to rile him.”

      “And you, Mark?” Royce asked. “What do you make of the others?”

      “I think they’re good to have beside us,” Mark said. “The Picti girl seems fierce, and it’s obvious Matilde is a survivor. Bolis might be a knight, but at least that means he knows how to use that sword of his. But they only work so long as you’re there to lead, Royce, and you’ve been up here all day.”

      He had. He’d been hoping to catch some glimpse of his father, or at least find a way to connect with the witch who had sent him this way in search of him. To do that, he’d been keeping his focus out in front of the ship, and not paying much attention to anything that had been going on aboard it. At least things seemed to be going well, because they were heading in the right direction.

      “How do you think things are going back home?” Royce asked Mark.

      “You’re worried about your brothers?” Mark asked.

      Royce nodded. Lofen, Raymond, and Garet were brave, and they would do everything they could to help the fight, but they could only do so much, and they’d already been captured once.

      “Them, and Olivia,” he said. He didn’t mention that thoughts of his fiancée kept blending with thoughts of Genevieve, not even to Mark, because those thoughts felt like a betrayal of someone who was good, and pure, and whose father had given them so much for someone who had already pushed him away.

      “We’ll get back to her soon,” Mark said, clapping Royce on the shoulder, and for a moment Royce couldn’t remember which “her” he meant.

      “I hope so,” he said. He sent his awareness back up into Ember’s eyes, and because of that, he saw the Seven Isles in the distance before anyone else.

      They sat shrouded in banks of mist that shifted along with the seas. Jagged rocks punched up from the waters around them like the teeth of great beasts. There were great beasts, because Royce saw a whale breach as he watched, its bulk sliding from the water in a cascade of spray. The rocks were adorned with the wrecks of ships that had tried to get by them without knowing the safe routes. It was enough to make Royce grateful that they’d found a captain willing to take them at all.

      The islands themselves seemed to be a mixture of greenery and black rock, clustered around a central lagoon with one of their number at their heart. Most of them were decorated with turf and trees and sand so dark it must have been worn down from the granite and basalt faces of the isles. The central island appeared to be a volcano, bubbling with an angry red glare, and now Royce realized that the mist around them wasn’t mist at all, but the falling smoke sinking so that it formed a kind of halo around the islands.

      The Mirror of Wisdom would be there somewhere, and if he’d gone in search of it, Royce hoped his father would be here too.

      “Land ahoy!” he called out to the others, pointing.

      The ship’s captain came up to them, smiling. “Where?”

      Through Royce’s own eyes, the islands were a series of dots that only slowly grew into more.

      “We have made it,” the captain said. He plucked a flask from his belt. “We must drink to such an occasion, and appease the spirits of the sea.”

      He held it out to Royce, who took it and sipped politely. The liquid within burned at his throat. Mark took it too, obviously looking for a way to decline, but the captain was too insistent for that. He sipped at it, coughing afterward.

      “Now that we are closer,” the captain said, “perhaps you will tell us more about why you are here. You are looking for your father, yes?”

      It took Royce a moment to realize what the other man had just said.

      “I never told you about that,” Royce said.

      “Oh, don’t be coy,” the captain said. “Did you think there wouldn’t be rumors around all of the villages? You’re Royce, the boy who overthrew the old duke. You’re looking for your father, and if you’ve had me carry you all the way to the Seven Isles, then he must be somewhere here.”

      “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Royce said, “we’re just—”

      “Traveling players, I know,” the captain said. “Except you’re not. Do you think a little mud on your knight’s shield will disguise who he is, or get rid of the mark on your hand? You’re Royce, there’s no point denying it.”

      The man stood staring at him, and Royce found the weight of expectation bearing down on him. He suspected there was no point trying to hide who he was anymore, but even so, he wasn’t comfortable merely admitting it.

      “Why does it matter to you?” СКАЧАТЬ