Page 236 of Spring Guardians & Songbirds

It couldn’t be.

No. No. No.

All creatures killed by anima accissor were of…outer realms? “The blood they have fed on made them unkillable,” I said, leaning back on a sail. “If these things cannot be killed without an anima accissor that would mean—” Horror rained on me. We had nothing to kill them with. And father had broken laws set by gods—he’d found a way to defy nature.

Kilian bent down, touching a bit of the dust left by the beast. “I don’t understand. The Ater battle monsters could be killed with a crane even. They were fed Caligo beast blood, too, but besides the terrifying exterior, agility and strength they possessed no other similarities to the beast they were fed on and mimicked. These—” He shook his head. “Something is not right. It makes no sense how they are breaking the Obitus Law. It makes no sense at all.”

“We have nothing to kill them with,” Thora said, dropping to the broken deck. “And if father is selling these beasts wouldn’t it mean he has plenty to spare?”

“What kills a heavenly beast?” I asked and their attention snapped to me.

Kilian shook his head. “Love, the process is far too complicated and we do not even have what is required to create them. That is not mentioning the smith. There are barely any elder smiths who have passed the tradition of creating anima accissor.”

“No, but we are left with no other option. We have to try, and it just happens that we have found one of the ingredients.” I turned to my spy who was studying the wreckage from the beast. “Vidarr, there is a change of plans.”

It had been days since Vidarr had left toward the unblessed continent. We’d received news from him that the unblessed had been mourning their loss for three days and that just yesterday, the Comnhall king had crowned three new princes to take on duties of the old ones. Vidarr was sure that the tensions were running high between Isjord and them. And Sebastian had confirmed it yesterday evening. He’d come with news that all port cities had been ordered by the king not to dispatch ships beyond the Hollow Sea as there was an order of strike against the Isjordian flag beyond the Mahara channel.

“We’ve never made deals with the unblessed,” a young councillor in Kilian’s court said. “Never in our history. We cross their waters and they know not to cross ours, and that is the closest to a deal we have made with them.”

“That means we’ve made history,” I said, glancing at the moon clock on the wall that had ticked endlessly since Kilian had gone down to Vrammethen to propose an agreement to the Comnhall king.

“And if they deny it?” he asked.

I slanted a look at him. “The unblessed happen to fear Adriata more than any other kingdom. Their king’s ego will be boosted beyond rejection knowing a blessed king, the Night King himself, is proposing a trade and an agreement to them out of all. And, dear, have you seen your king being a king? If anything, I am afraid they might hog him there tonight with how long they are taking.”

Larg raised a brow at me. “He’s been gone for an hour.”

An hour? Surely it had been more than that.

“Why is it that you’ve gathered only us?” a priest asked, looking around at the lack of the Moon court in presence.

“There are very few who I want to know about this,” I said. “Father has someone inside the Adriatian court and that I am sure of. It just happens that I know all about you and your families—so go on, dare be that person.”

A few laughed and others nodded in agreement.

“And then?” a young councillor asked. “After we’ve gotten the metal, what will we do?”

“First we deny Silas what he wants badly enough that he was forced to tie an agreement with Vrammethen. I am still thinking through the rest.”

“There is nothing I’ve enjoyed more than seeing you outsmart your father,” Triad said.

“There is no outsmarting him, Triad. He is well gifted by his cruel god, but what I can do is disarm him. You can never make my father prey. You can try. But I would not suggest it. With him, you have to strike quick and fast.”

A young captain cleared his throat. “My queen, Kilian had planned a trip to Sitara this afternoon to check on the new railings we have put on the cliffs to keep away any eudemons. We need someone to approve them so the metalsmiths can continue dressing the rest of the bay.”

“I will go,” Mal said, yawning and dropping his feet from the table.

“I will come with.” He gave me a strange look. “Mooncakes. I want some.” Cai and Eren were in Myrdur, Thora had gone to Hanai with Nia, and Alaric had led a group of younglings to Valda Acme and would spend the night there. I didn’t want to go back to an empty bedroom.

The seaside was terror and beauty at the same time. Half of the waters were pitch black and the other half a clear bright azure. The line separating Golgotha’s territory was grim and lifeless, not a single wave or ripple on its surface.

After we’d checked the railings, Mal had taken me to a little shop with an old woman sat beside a coal stove frying mooncakes.

The woman glanced at me now and then. For each flip back and forth of the dessert on the stove her gaze rose to me. While her curiosity was at its peak, I never felt or saw a flash of fear or disgust.

My stomach growled and she howled with laughter, startling me. Quickly, she wrapped the mooncake in a tissue and put it in my hands. “Eat—eat loads, but stop thundering in my shop, ey?” she said, tapping my belly.

Mal grabbed my arm and dragged me outside before I had a chance to show the old woman what real thunder looked like.