Page 138 of Reaper's Quest

We waited several minutes for Valen to arrive with a curvy glass bottle in hand. Within the bottle, a shimmering liquid. He poured a small circle of the contents into the queen’s awaiting palm. Thicker than water, but not nearly as thick as honey, the queen massaged the shimmery tonic across her fingers and palms, then she inhaled a whiff.

“This should work nicely.” She stepped closer to me, her smile slight but pleased. “Let me see your fingers, dear.”

I obliged, presenting both hands tipped with blue. And as I did, my gaze slid to Valen. Something about him seemed oddly different, but I couldn’t determine what exactly that “something” was.

“This shouldn’t hurt…much.” The queen folded one tonic-covered hand over each of mine, pulling my full attention back to the task at hand.

She inhaled deeply through her nose. Once, twice, fourtimes. With each inhale, a sliver, then a bite, then a chunk of frost melted away.

After the fourth pull of the queen’s inhale, warmth and color returned to my hands. The ice burn subsided, and a gentle tingle ensued—blood once again moving through my fingertips.

“Thank you.” I released my amazement in a soft breath. I flexed my fingers, flipping my hands forward and back, examining them from both sides. “How?”

“You are in a citadel filled with ancient magic wielders,” the queen responded.

She turned and patted Winter on his shoulder.

Despite my company, and my better judgment, I frowned. “Your citadel has a serious issue. Possibly more than one.”

“You are not wrong.” The queen tipped her head ever so slightly.

Winter cleared his throat and wrapped his hand around mine once more, giving my rejuvenated fingers a tight squeeze. “And Raven has a missing friend. I thought maybe we could use our resources to help locate him.”

His grandmother responded with a slight nod, showing no hints regarding her thoughts on providing help or not.

She raised her tonic-covered hands and smiled gently. “Winter, my boy, would you mind getting me a towel so that I might wipe my hands clean?”

“Of course.” Confusion flickered in his gaze, there and gone.

With a tight bow, he turned and disappeared in search of a towel. No doubt, a task easily—normally—handled by a member of the staff.

I stood alone with the queen, all listening ears a fair distance from our position in the middle of the throne room. Potent power vibrated in the open space, pressed upon me, and settled over the queen, stripping the loving grandmother from her demeanor. With the square of her shoulders and the rise of her chest, she became a powerhouse absorbing all the surrounding energies.

She leaned forward, moving her lips within inches of my ear. “I know what you are.”

34

Istiffened for a fraction of a second, but a tense, possibly scared girl was not the impression I wanted to leave with the queen. Despite my exhaustion, I needed to strap on my armor of confidence and letthatshine through whatever façade I now presented.

I know what you are.

The queen’s words rang in my mind. They could mean several things—a stranger, a troublemaker, a strong magic wielder, a spark in a sea of paper. Knowing…or thinking the queen knew…my origin and what I had come to the citadel to do didn’t really mean much.

At least, that’s what I told myself. A reaper wasn’t likely to make the list of possibilities.

I relaxed my stance and adjusted to better see the queen’s expression. “Semi-close to your royal grandson?”

“Oh, I have no doubt Winter is rather taken with you.” The queen’s gaze shifted to the door through which Winter had disappeared only a moment earlier, lingering all of a second. She refocused on me, her demeanor nothing if not serious. “You are, after all, something new and curious in his otherwise redundant existence.”

A hundred years with little to no change. Redundant indeed.

“He has always been fond of mysteries and puzzles.” She sighed, and an almost sorrowful expression took root in her features. “But this interest of his is something you will neither return nor encourage.”

“Because I’m not a lady of royal blood?” A sour taste settled on my tongue.

My response sounded curt and completely unacceptable in the face of a royal, but I felt too tired to maintain the expected decorum.

She hummed. “There is that, but no. That is not the reason you will discourage Winter.”