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CONTENTS
Cast of Characters
Map
Greavesdrake Manor
Wolf Spring
Rolanth
Indrid Downwards
Wolf Jump
The Stonegall Hills
Wolf Spring
The Ashburn Woods
Greavesdrake Manor
Wolf Leap
The Suitors Make it Indrid Downward
Rolanth
Wolf Spring
Rolanth
Wolf Spring
Greavesdrake Estate
Rolanth
Wolf Jump
Rolanth
Greavesdrake Estate
Wolf Jump
Greavesdrake Manor
Rolanth
Wolf Spring
Midsummer The Valleywood Route
Wolf Spring
Wolf Spring Temple
The Wolverton Inn
The Festival of Midsummer
The Queens' Hunt
Wolf Leap
The Queens' Chase
Wolf Spring
The Queens' Hunt
Wolf Spring
The Northeast Woods
Wolf Spring Temple
The Seawatch Mountains
The Inn of the Crooked Tail Cat
The Black Cottage
The Western Sea
Wolf Leap
Greavesdrake Manor
The Black Cottage
Greavesdrake Manor
Rolanth
The Black Cottage
The Queens' Duel Rolanth
Indrid Downwardly
The Highbern Hotel
Greavesdrake Manor
The Road to Indrid Down
Bardon Harbor
The Queens' Brawl
The Breccia Domain
Indrid Down
The Highbern Hotel
The Arena
The Queens' Duel
The Volroy
Indrid Down
The Volroy Cells
The Highbern Hotel
The Queen Crowned The Crowning
The Volroy Cells
The Wedding
The Volroy Cells
Greavesdrake Manor
The Volroy
Greavesdrake Manor
Indrid Downward
Greavesdrake Manor
The Indrid Downwardly Woods
Bardon Harbor
The Volroy
The Sea
Acknowledgments
Back Ad
About the Author
Books by Kendare Blake
Credits
Copyright
Near the Publisher
CAST OF CHARACTERS
INDRID Down
Capital City, Home of Queen Katharine
THE ARRONS
Natalia Arron
Matriarch of the Arron family. Caput of the Black Quango.
Genevieve Arron
Younger sister to Natalia
Antonin Arron
Younger brother to Natalia
Pietyr Renard
Natalia's nephew by her brother Christophe
ROLANTH
Home of Queen Mirabella
THE WESTWOODS
Sara Westwood
Matriarch of the Westwood family. Affinity: water
Bree Westwood
Daughter of Sara Westwood, friend to the queen. Affinity: fire
WOLF Jump
Home of Queen Arsinoe
THE MILONES
Cait Milone
Dame of the Milone family. Familiar: Eva, a crow
Ellis Milone
Married man to Cait and father to her children. Familiar: Jake, a white spaniel
Caragh Milone
Elder daughter of Cait, banished to the Black Cottage. Familiar: Juniper, a dark-brown hound
Madrigal Milone
Younger daughter of Cait. Familiar: Aria, a crow
Juillenne "Jules" Milone
Girl of Madrigal. The strongest naturalist in decades and friend to the queen. Familiar: Camden, a mountain true cat
THE SANDRINS
Matthew Sandrin
Eldest of the Sandrin sons. Former betrothed of Caragh Milone
Joseph Sandrin
Centre Sandrin son. Friend of Arsinoe. Banished to the mainland for v years
OTHERS
Luke Gillespie
Proprietor of Gillespie'south Bookshop. Friend of Arsinoe. Familiar: Hank, a black-and-green rooster
William "Billy" Chatworth Jr.
Foster brother to Joseph Sandrin. Suitor to the queens.
THE TEMPLE
High Priestess Luca
Priestess Rho Murtra
Elizabeth
Initiate and friend to Queen Mirabella
THE BLACK Quango
Natalia Arron, poisoner
Genevieve Arron, poisoner
Lucian Arron, poisoner
Antonin Arron, poisoner
Allegra Arron, poisoner
Paola Vend, poisoner
Lucian Marlowe, poisoner
Margaret Beaulin, war-gifted
Renata Hargrove, giftless
MAP
GREAVESDRAKE Manor
Natalia Arron oversees her younger sister'due south move back to Greavesdrake with a critical eye. Genevieve was banished from the house for only a few months. If one were to approximate by the endless line of trunks the footmen carry through the front end door, you would remember she had been gone for years.
"Information technology will be good to sleep in my own bed over again," Genevieve says. She inhales deeply. The air at Greavesdrake smells of oiled wood, and books, and savory, poisoned stew bubbling in the kitchen.
"Your bed in town is likewise your own," says Natalia. "Exercise non act as though it were a hardship."
Natalia studies Genevieve from the corner of her middle. Genevieve'due south cheeks are rosy pinkish, and her lilac irises sparkle. Long, blond pilus tumbles past her shoulder. People say she is the beautiful Arron sister. If they only knew what wicked thoughts whirled inside that pretty head.
"Now that you lot are abode," says Natalia. "Prove yourself useful. What is the Council whispering?"
"The story has been told as you instructed," Genevieve replies. "That Queen Katharine survived Queen Arsinoe's attack with the bear and cleverly went into hiding until all was accounted safe. But they have all the same heard the stories."
"What stories?"
"Nonsense, mostly." Genevieve waves her mitt. But Natalia frowns. Nonsense becomes truth if enough mouths repeat it.
"What sort of nonsense?"
"That Katharine did not survive at all. Some actually merits to have seen her dice, and some say that they saw her equally she made her fashion home: gray-skinned and covered in mud, with claret running from her mouth. They have been calling her Katharine the Undead. Can you imagine?"
Natalia barks laughter. She crosses her arms. It is ridiculous. But she still does not like it.
"But what did happen to her, in the days that she was missing?" Genevieve asks. "Do even you non know?"
Natalia thinks back to that nighttime, when Katharine returned, covered in dirt and haemorrhage from a dozen cuts. Mute in the anteroom with filthy black hair hanging over her face. She had looked like a monster.
"I know enough," Natalia says, and turns on her heel.
"They say she has changed. How has she inverse? Is she strong enough yet to return to her poison preparation?"
Natalia swallows. Poison training volition not be necessary. Merely she says zip. She inclines her head and leads Genevieve down the hall, looking for Kat so that Genevieve might see for herself.
They walk together deeper into the manor, where the light is softened by drawn curtains and the sounds o
f the footmen laboring below Genevieve'south trunks fade.
Genevieve tucks her traveling gloves into the pocket of her breeches. She looks very smart in her soft, brushed carnelian jacket. She claps at imagined grit on her thigh.
"So much to practice," she says. "The suitors will arrive any day."
Natalia'due south mouth twists up at the corner. Suitors. But only one requested first court with Katharine. The golden-blond male child, Nicolas Martel. Despite Katharine'due south strong showing during her Beltane poison feast, both of the other suitors had elected to pursue Arsinoe.
Arsinoe, with her scarred face, trousers with frayed cuffs, and shorn, unkempt hair. No one could be attracted to that. They must be curious about her bear.
"Who would have thought our queen would have merely ane request?" Genevieve says, reading Natalia's sour expression.
"It does not matter. Nicolas Martel is the finest of the bunch. Were information technology non for our long brotherhood with Billy Chatworth's father, he would be my top choice."
"Billy Chatworth has been lost to the Conduct Queen," Genevieve mutters. "The whole isle knows that."
"Billy Chatworth volition practise as his father commands," Natalia snaps. "And do not call Arsinoe the Bear Queen. We practise not desire that to stick."
They turn the corner past Katharine's staircase.
"She is not in her rooms?" Genevieve asks as they pass by.
"You can never tell where she is anymore."
A maid conveying a vase of white oleander blooms pauses to drop a curtsy.
"Where is the queen?" Natalia asks.
"In the solarium," the girl replies.
"Thank you," says Genevieve. So she yanks the girl's cap off her head to reveal dark brown roots beneath fading Arron-blond dye. "Now go and tend to your hair."
The solarium is bright and open, with many uncovered windows. White paint on the walls, and multicolored pillows on the sofa. It hardly belongs in the Arron firm and is normally empty, unless they are entertaining guests. Simply Natalia and Genevieve find Katharine inside bustling, surrounded by wrapped packages.
"Expect who is home," Natalia says.
Katharine presses a lid onto a pretty purple box. Then she turns to face them, smiling broadly.
"Genevieve," Katharine says. "It is good to have yous and Antonin at Greavesdrake again."
Genevieve's mouth hangs open. She has not seen Katharine since the twenty-four hours after she returned. And Katharine was such a mess so. Still filthy, and with so many fingernails missing.
Equally she stares at Katharine now, it is non difficult for Natalia to approximate what she is thinking. Where is the trivial girl with her large foolish optics and tightly braided bun? The skinny girl who bows her head and just laughs later someone else laughs first?
But wherever that Katharine is, it is not hither.
"Antonin," Genevieve murmurs once she finds her vox. "He is already here?"
"Of form," Natalia replies. "I asked him back start."
Shocked equally Genevieve is by the sight of the queen, she does not fifty-fifty pout. Katharine sweeps forrad and takes her past the wrists, and if she notices the way Genevieve recoils at the sudden, uncharacteristic gesture, she does not show it. She simply smiles and drags her farther into the room.
"Do yous like my presents?" Katharine asks, gesturing to the packages. They are all cute, wrapped in colored paper and tied with satin ribbon or large white velvet bows.
"Who are they from?" asks Genevieve. "The suitors?"
"Not 'from,'" Katharine says. "Just for. As presently equally I have put on the last loving touches, they will exist dispatched to Rolanth, for my dear sister Mirabella."
Katharine caresses the nearest chip of ribbon with a black-gloved finger.
"Will y'all tell united states what is inside them," Natalia asks, "or must we guess?"
Katharine tosses a tendril of hair over her shoulder. "Within she volition find many things. Poisoned gloves. Tainted jewels. A stale chrysanthemum seedling painted with toxin, to bloom into poisoned tea."
"This will never work," Genevieve says. "They will be checked. You cannot kill Mirabella with prettily wrapped poison presents."
"Nosotros near killed that naturalist with a prettily wrapped poison nowadays," Katharine counters in a low vocalization. She sighs. "Only you lot are probably correct. These are only a scrap of fun."
Natalia looks over the boxes. At that place are more than than a dozen, of diverse sizes and colors. Each will likely exist transported individually, past split up courier. Those couriers will be changed several times, in different cities, earlier arriving in Rolanth. Information technology seems a lot of trouble to go to for just a bit of fun.
Katharine finishes inking a souvenir tag with dark stars and swirls. Then she sits on the gold-and-white brocade sofa and reaches for a plate of belladonna berries. She eats a scattering, filling her cheeks, mashing them with her teeth until the poison juice shows at the corners of her lips. Genevieve gasps. She turns toward Natalia, but in that location is no explanation to requite. When Katharine recovered from her wounds, she turned to the poisons and began to devour them.
"At that place is still no word from Pietyr?" Katharine asks, wiping juice from her mentum.
"No. And I do not know what to tell you. I wrote him immediately after you returned, to summon him back. I have also written to my brother inquiring about what is keeping him. But there has been no response from Christophe either."
"I volition write to Pietyr myself, then," says Katharine. She presses a gloved mitt to her tummy as the belladonna berries take result. If Katharine'due south gift had come, the toxicant should not cause her pain. Yet she seems able to acquit more than she ever could before, taking in so much that every meal is like a Gave Noir. Katharine smiles brightly. "I will take a letter gear up before I exit for the temple this evening."
"That is a skillful idea," Natalia says. "I am sure you will be able to persuade him."
She motions to Genevieve so they might get out the solarium. Poor Genevieve. She does not know how to behave. No doubt she would similar to be mean, to pinch the queen, or slap her, but the queen earlier them looks like she might slap right back. Genevieve frowns, and drops a lazy curtsy.
"Has her gift come, so?" Genevieve whispers one time she and Natalia accept mounted the stairs. "The fashion she ate those berries. But I could feel that her hands were swollen through the gloves. . . ."
"I do not know," Natalia replies quietly.
"Could it be the souvenir developing?"
"If it is, I have never seen any gift develop similarly."
"If her gift has non come, she must take care. Too much poison . . . she could harm herself. Damage herself."
Natalia stops walking.
"I know that. But I cannot seem to stop her."
"What happened to her?" Genevieve asks. "Where was she for those days?"
Natalia thinks dorsum to the shadow of a girl who walked through her forepart door, grey-skinned and cold. Sometimes she sees the effigy in her dreams, lurching toward her bed on the stiffened limbs of a corpse. Natalia shivers. Despite the warmth of the summer air, she craves a fire and a blanket around her shoulders.
"Perhaps it is better not to know."
Katharine'due south letter to Pietyr consists of only three lines.
Dearest Pietyr,
Return to me now. Do not be afraid. Exercise non delay.
Your Queen Katharine
Poor Pietyr. She likes to imagine him hiding somewhere. Or running through scratchy brambles and twigs that sting like lashes, just as she did the night he met her beside the Breccia Domain. The night he threw her down into it.
"I must have intendance with my words, Sweetheart," she says softly to the snake coiled around her arm. "So he will yet retrieve me his gentle little queen." She smiles. "I must not scare him."
He probably thinks that he will be put into the cells beneath the Volroy when he returns. That she will allow some state of war-gifted guard to beat his head against the walls u
ntil his brains run out. But Katharine has non told anyone virtually his part in her fall that nighttime. And she has no plans to. She told Natalia that she stumbled into the Breccia Domain on her own as she fled in a panic from Arsinoe'southward bear.
Katharine looks out her window from where she sits at her writing desk. To the e, below the last of the Stonegall hills, the capital letter city of Indrid Down glitters in the belatedly-afternoon sun. In the heart, the twin black spires of the Volroy jut up into the sky, the bully castle fortress dwarfing everything else. Even the mountains seem hunched in comparison, bankroll off like trolls brought down past a shining light.
The belladonna berries roll in Katharine's stomach, but she does non wince. It has been more than a month since she had to claw her fashion upwards and out of the heart of the island, and now Katharine can withstand anything.
She leans over and pushes the window open. These days her rooms odor slightly of sickness and whatsoever animals she is testing her poisons on. Many small cages of birds and rodents litter the room, on tiptop of her tables and lined along the walls. A few lie inside dead, waiting to be cleared out.
She taps the cage on the corner of her desk to rouse the small gray mouse inside. Information technology is blind in one eye, and mostly bald from Katharine'due south rubbed poisons. She offers it a cracker through the bars of its cage, and it creeps forward, sniffing, agape to consume it.
"Once, I was a mouse," she says, and strips off her glove. She reaches into the cage to stroke the rodent'southward tiny bald haunches.
"But I am not anymore."
WOLF Leap
Arsinoe and Jules are at the kitchen table slicing small red potatoes when Jules'due south Grandpa Ellis bursts through the side door with his white spaniel familiar. He arches his graying forehead at them and holds up a small black envelope bearing the wax seal of the Blackness Council.
Grandma Cait pauses just long enough in her herb-chopping to blow loose hair out of her face up. So all three women become back to the tasks at hand.
"Doesn't anybody want to read it?" Ellis asks. He sets the letter on the tabletop and lifts his spaniel, Jake, to sniff at the potatoes.
"Why?" Cait snorts. "We can all guess what information technology says." She gestures with her head to the other side of the kitchen. "Now would y'all crack me four egg yolks into that bowl?"
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