Page 81 of A Kiss of Flame
‘It’s an Ilanthian issue,’ Hestia told him curtly. Of course, they didn’t want it widely known that the security of the Ilanthian court had been breached, or that someone was trading with witchkind.
But this was not an argument anymore. If they were all intent on treating him like a prince here, then he would embrace it. This so-called ‘issue’ affected all of them. And if the rebel witchkind were trying to disrupt the old magic itself, if they were trying to take over the sisterhood, or if they were after the Aurum, he had to raise the alarm. He was duty-bound.
‘Clearly not. Sassone used Ilanthian steel on the queen. You have no choice but to tell them everything and let Elodie and Roland handle it. If they believe you had a hand in it, that’s going to make your mission all the more difficult, Hestia. Impossible in fact. You’ll be lucky to get out of Pelias, ambassador or not. And Leander will have the war he always wanted.’
‘I don’t want a war,’ his half-brother muttered. ‘Only a fool would want that.’
Which was, Finn reflected, the most sensible thing he had ever heard come out of Leander’s mouth. It wasn’t as if he had been demonstrating that the last time they met though, and he had learned long ago never to trust a word his brother said.
‘Really? I thought that was what this was all about. Conquering Asteroth, securing power, the triumph of the Nox.’
‘It doesn’t have to be like that,’ Hestia interrupted. ‘Does it? None of you understand. How many times do I have to explain to get it through your thick royal skulls? We can achieve a balance instead.’
She looked plaintively at Leander who gave a growl and rolled his eyes. ‘So you say. And Hestia knows these things. She certainly convinced our father anyway.’ His voice took on a grandiose tone. ‘She has looked into the darkest places and been shown the path of things to come. All must obey or we face utter ruin. Not everyone agrees with her though and that is the problem.’
Finn turned his attention to his cousin who had the good grace to look embarrassed.
Mystical and ominous portents from the sisterhood. He should have guessed.
‘And what is that?’ he asked, raising an eyebrow to let her know how dubious he found all of this. ‘A vision?’
‘I can’t tell you. Not everything. Just that peace is possible and it is imperative. Without peace I saw a wasteland where our fair kingdoms should be.’
Hardly a surprise. That was what war did. Hestia knew that as well as anyone. He’d had enough of this nonsense.
‘You need to leave,’ he told her. ‘Get out of Pelias and back to Sidonia. Spin your foretellings to Alessander instead if he’s of a mind to listen. They’ll do more good there.’
‘I have. He sent us here, Finnian. For you.’
Those two words made him stop, his body frozen. Wren’s hand tightened on his. Did she know about this?
‘And why does Alessander want me?’
He dreaded to think. He may have visited the royal court and been treated with casual disdain at most over the years, but his last clear memory of his childhood was his father dragging him to the sacrificial chamber, knife in hand. That was his one abiding memory, the thing that brought him awake screaming from nightmares in the darkest hours of the night. Alessander had tried to kill him and Roland had been the one to save him.
Then the king of Ilanthus had handed his youngest son over as a hostage without a single qualm. The boy was dead to him anyway.
But it had been Hestia who had sent Roland to save him. Finn had always known that. And for what? For this? He’d thought it was love, or at least affection. But had she always known? Had this, in fact, been her plan? Not to let him die then, but to save him up for the future, for when the Nox returned in a human form.
Daily, Finnian thanked the light of the Aurum for Roland’s intervention. He had been a man by the time he had been able to return to Sidonia without an escort for his own safety. And in those prayers, he had thanked Hestia as well. Now they felt like ashes in his mouth.
Oh he could imagine why Alessander might want him back after so long. Blood of Sidon. The expendable son. The one doomed to die…
He stared at Hestia, desperately ignoring Leander. He could lay hands on a weapon again in moments. He trusted his hated brother knew that.
Anselm and Olivier moved closer. He’d almost forgotten they were there. They were Knights of the Aurum. They could be silent and unseen. It was part of their training.
Anselm… Anselm who would tell Roland everything. And even if he didn’t, Olivier would. Oh great light, how was he going to explain all of this to Roland?
‘Finn,’ Wren whispered. It sent a shudder through him and he glanced to her. Her dark eyes were fixed solemnly on him, and she looked as worried as he felt. Her hand, cold and shaking, tightened on his again, as if she felt the need to hold him back.
He trusted her, more than trusted her. He would do anything for her. She was part of him and he was part of her. They had to get out of here.
‘We should go,’ she said, her voice trembling.
Had they already told Wren? Before him? Or had she sensed it? Her magic could do so much. Why not peer into Hestia’s mind and read her intentions? Or maybe Wren had figured it out. She was clever, intuitive as well. Everyone seemed to forget that.
‘Why’s that, little bird?’ asked Leander with a sarcastic drawl. ‘Why not let him hear the future?’