With a hum of satisfaction, Harmon nodded. “I just wanted some peace and quiet.” He held out his arms, as if inviting them to listen…to silence. “I have gotten it.”
“All this for quiet?” Echo giggled. “You couldn’t have arranged for a retreat into the mountains?”
“Why should I leave my home to gain what I wish? This kingdom is mine. This fortress is mine. Yet everyone was always wailing and whining. Children always crying, elders always complaining. My own son was the worst of all—bitten on a hunt, and he screamed all the way to the healer’s square, my queen wailing along with him. I gave my own little twist to the healer’s spell and the result was exactly as I hoped.” His head tilted, as if listening again. “Except the birds keep twittering—but unless my guards grow wings, I cannot help that.”
“But what do you eat?” She gestured to the bowl of fruit on the table. “Who gathers it for you? Do the beasts do that, too? I cannot fathom living without my servants. But you are here all alone.”
“It is easy enough to gather for myself.” He nodded toward the courtyard door. “The garden is enchanted. It produce all year round. So I pluck whatever I like.”
“Enchanted? Extraordinary.” She eyed the bowl hungrily. “May I? We have not yet had our midday meal.”
“Try the peach. You’ll have never tasted juicier or sweeter.”
“I thank you. May I use your knife to slice it?”
He gave her that tight smile. “It will be my pleasure to slice it for you.”
“You are so kind,” she beamed at him, then selected a peach. “This one, I think.”
He took the fruit from her. Bane tensed as Harmon picked up his paring knife, yet the king only applied the blade to the peach.
“As you wish for quiet,” Echo said brightly, “we will not stay long.”
“That is kind of you.” Slowly he wound the blade around the peach, stripping its fuzzy skin. “Though before you go, I would like to know how your general stopped my scourge. They were, after all, made to be undying.”
And if they said anything of the ragwort, Harmon might alter the spell so the beasts had no vulnerabilities. Because Bane trusted not a word he said of peace and quiet. Perhaps he truly wished for silence—but that was not all Harmon wished for. If he truly wanted quiet, he did not need to clear out an entire kingdom.
Though perhaps that had been beyond his control. The beasts they’d encountered yesterday had not been standing still—as if beyond Harmon’s range.
And would he have any control over Bane? Or his warriors?
They were not like the undying beasts…but the origin was the same.
Beneath the table, Echo’s hand suddenly squeezed his tight. Then her fingers skimmed over the tips of his.
Over the tips of his claws. His defenses, coming to the surface.
Yet those defenses could give him away.
He battled them back again.
“It was the dandelion,” Echo said. “The milk from the roots. So they wiped that pulp over the blades.”
“Ah!” Harmon nodded and halved the peach. “The dandelion. That was part of the spell. Who would ever think that a little weed could create such a problem for me?”
“That is why I prefer flowers over weeds.”
He huffed out a soft laugh. “Do you recall when I visited Phaira?”
“In truth, I do not.”
“It was long ago. But I clearly recall how empty-headed I thought you. In truth, you were one who I first wanted to silence from your unceasing prattle.”
Her hand was nearly crushing his. Fear? Holding him back? He couldn’t read anything in her face but vapid amusement. “I was so young then.”
“So you were. But empty-headed doesn’t change—and here you are now, cleverly telling me it is the dandelion, when in fact it was the ragwort. And you”—his gaze shot to Bane—“my friend Tamas would not bestir himself far from his palace, let alone tramp around in unmended clothes. Tell me, who are you? Not Tamas and Sapphira.”
Echo shrugged. “We’re their evil twins.”
Harmon laughed, as if delighted. Unease skittered down Bane’s spine.
“So you are General Bane.” He leaned forward, eyes eager. “Tell me, is there truth in the rumors about the warriors who fought my scourge? That the venom burns within them? Come now. Show me.”
Agony ripped through his veins. His fangs and teeth burst from where he’d shoved them down, deep down. With a growl locked in his throat, he gripped his sword.
And was stopped.
Frozen. Like Echo’s poisonous kiss…but not. Instead it was his own venom taking hold, but what it held was not from deep down inside him. Instead it was what lurked deep down inside Harmon.
And coming to the surface.
With Echo beside him.
Unbidden rage screamed through his clenched teeth as he battled the burn, battled the sorcerer.
“You fight me. It won’t last,” Harmon told him confidently, setting down the knife and licking the peach juice from his fingers. He shoved the small plate of sliced fruit over to Echo. But Bane couldn’t turn his head, couldn’t see her expression. “What I learned during the scourge is that those who fight the hardest also shatter the hardest. And what makes them shatter? They kill someone they love—and snap the tether to their humanity.”