“You’re not an Ascended.” My gaze searched the beautiful, fine lines of her features. “We’ll figure out what happened to you. Someone has to know.”
“We will.” She inhaled sharply, meeting my gaze. “Vikter told me why no one was allowed to know the Consort’s name, and why those who did were not allowed to repeat it in the mortal realm.”
My lips parted. “Okay, I was not expecting that.”
Tawny laughed. “Yeah, me neither, but Vikter said that her name is power, and that to speak it is to bring the stars from the skies and topple the mountains into the sea.”
I stilled as she basically repeated what Reaver had said.
“But only when spoken by the one born as she and of a great primal power.”
“I’m…I’m not a Primal,” I said, still not understanding why or how the Consort could be so powerful that no one dared to utter her name in the mortal realm.
“I don’t know. I wish Vikter could’ve told me more, but he told me this.” Tawny leaned in even closer then, over the table. “He told me you already knew her name.”
The sky was overcast when I walked out of Castle Redrock the following morning, the toy horse secured in its pouch, a piece of parchment and pencil tucked within a satchel, and the words Sven had said I would need to speak to cast the Primal spell committed to memory. My hair was braided and pinned beneath a wide-brimmed cap. We were all dressed in the brown usually worn by the Huntsmen of Solis, our cloaks that bore the crimson crest of the Blood Crown—a circle with an arrow piercing the center—taken from the Rise Guards. The crest was supposed to represent infinity and power, but it was more a symbol of fear and oppression.
I hated wearing it as much as I did the white of the Maiden, but the Huntsmen were one of the only groups who were seen moving freely through Solis, ferrying messages from city to city or transporting goods.
The wolven paced restlessly, their agitation at not accompanying us tart and lemony. I hated that our plans left them uneasy, but even if they were all in their mortal forms, it would be too noticeable and too risky.
Isbeth would have them slaughtered.
I turned to where Tawny stood beside me. We’d spent the remainder of yesterday together as I caught her up on everything she hadn’t already been told, and she’d talked to me about what it had been like when she saw Vikter. It reminded me a lot of how it had been when I too had been at the Vale’s door and had dreamed of the Consort. I still had no idea why Vikter would think I knew the Consort’s name.
Tawny smiled at me. “You’re going to be careful.”
“Of course.”
She took my hands in hers. The coldness of her skin seeped through my gloves. “As careful as you were when we snuck out of Castle Teerman and would go swimming as naked as the day we were born?”
“Even more careful than that.” I grinned. “And you? I want you to stay close to Vonetta and Gianna.”
She glanced to where Vonetta waited. “I’ll probably get on her nerves.”
“No, you won’t.” I squeezed her hands. “Vonetta is very nice. You’ll love her.”
Tawny stepped in, lowering her voice. “Have you gotten used to them? And I don’t mean that in a bad way. I’ve seen Gianna shift about a dozen times now, and other than a whole lot of nakedness, I can’t wrap my head around how all of that works.”
I laughed. “You saw Vikter—who died in front of us—and you can’t wrap your head around a wolven?”
She pinned me with a knowing look.
“Okay, no, I’m still sometimes caught off guard by it. But wait until you see a draken do it.”
Tawny’s eyes widened. “I can’t wait.”
She’d yet to see any of the draken, as they remained out of sight, and Reaver was in his mortal form. That would change soon.
“You should be going,” she said, her lower lip trembling.
“Yeah,” I whispered, pulling her in for an embrace. “This won’t be like before.”
“Promise?”
“Yes.” I started to pull back and then stopped, holding her tighter. “You’ve always been a great friend to me, Tawny. I hope you know that. I hope you know how much I love you.”
“I know,” Tawny whispered. “I’ve always known.”
Parting ways with Tawny was hard, but I had to. Kissing her cool cheek, I promised to see her in Three Rivers and then walked to where Vonetta waited with Emil. I caught sight of Reaver, wearing black breeches and a simple tunic sweater he’d apparently borrowed from Kieran, securing an additional horse to the wagon, where several crates of whiskey had been placed in the back under a cover that also hid a small arsenal of weapons. The liquor had been Emil’s idea. The whiskey could be used as a distraction for those who pried too closely or asked too many questions.