Page 4 of The Dragon and the Dove

Andreas’s recent silence had only heightened their unease. It meant the prince was up to something; he was a snake moving in the long grass, while the kingdom held its breath.

It was almost midnight, and the catacombs were full of beasts. Shadow hounds prowled around the cavern, guarding the doorways that led on to the four passageways, and occasionally veering close to her spot by the fireplace, likely to intimidate Theo, who was lying with his shirt open on the rug before her and making a point of ignoring them entirely.

The Shadowsmith cleared his throat. ‘Not getting any younger here, Saint-maker.’

‘Shhh. I’m concentrating.’

‘I can feel you spiralling.’

She flicked his ear. ‘You of all people don’t want me to rush this. I could kill you, you know.’

‘Doubt is the enemy of magic,’ said Anouk, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor beside Theo, idly braiding her hair. ‘You can do this, Sera. You’ve done it before.’

Ransom was proof of that. And Lark, too. Though both had been accidents.

Lark, made on the night of the power storm atop the Aurore Tower, when Sera had slammed her hands against his chest, magic running through her like a current.

And then Ransom, only a few days ago, when he had been dead in her arms on the banks of the Verne, and she had poured her tears, her love, her magic into him.

And then, there was the other attempt…

Talisa Mondragon, the princess Sera had scoured to death at Marvale.

Of course Sera was nervous. Her magic was a living, breathing force inside her. Sometimes, she felt at one with it, and at others, it had a will of its own.

‘If you don’t get on with it, I’ll die of boredom anyway,’ said Theo.

‘Stop pressuring her,’ growled Ransom. ‘You’re lucky she’s even considering you for this.’

Theo cracked an eye open. ‘You said you’d keep him out of the Cavern tonight.’

Ransom stood over him. ‘My catacombs, my rules, Versini.’

‘Are the hounds really necessary?’ said Theo.

Ransom’s smile was a scythe. ‘Just in case you go rogue and I have to kill you.’

‘Look at you, still chomping at the bit for mindless murder,’ goaded the Shadowsmith. ‘Against all odds, I think those pets of yours have made you even more insufferable.’

‘Good.’

‘Shut up, both of you,’ snapped Anouk. Her eyes flickered gold, and the brickwork around them trembled. A measured breath stifled her magic, and the Stone Maiden went on, as though nothing had happened. ‘Just… let her focus.’

Sera pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes. She couldn’t settle. Couldn’t trust herself.

‘Stop thinking about Talisa,’ said Theo, softer now.

Sera couldn’t help it. Andreas had promised the Urnican princess a magical gift, not out of the kindness of his heart but in his eagerness to experiment with Sera’s new power as a Saint-maker.

Talisa had died for his curiosity.

Sera had killed her.

She hadn’t meant to, but in the moment fear and pressure and uncertainty had overwhelmed her, and instead of remaking the young princess into something more, she had burned a hole in her chest.

Too easily, Theo read the fear in her eyes. ‘Andreas forced your hand, Sera. But I’m willing. You’re willing. This is what you were meant for.’

‘You made Ransom a few days ago,’ Anouk chipped in. ‘And he turned out fine, didn’t he?’