Read Shadows Return for Free Online

her?”
    “Not much,” Seregil replied. “Phoria has been grooming her for battle. A hard education that will have been, too, with her in charge of it.”
    Surrounded by the symbols of the Four and her powerful family, Phoria held up the Sword as she approached the bull to perform this year’s sacrifice.
    “Phoria looks just like her mother from here,” Micum noted softly as the priests began the chants and prayers. “I still miss her.”
    The words of the ceremony, or at least what Alec could make out at this distance, were similar to the investiture oath the queen gave each year on Mourning Night. She pledged to defend the land and uphold the will of the Four. When she was done, the priests pulled the docile bull’s head back and Phoria made the fatal swing. The animal did not struggle as the bright blood sprayed out across Phoria’s golden armor and the pavement in auspicious patterns.
    More prayers followed.
    Bored, Alec leaned on the railing, fretting with the gold rings he’d worn for the occasion. He hated jewelry; hated having to the play the role of a noble of no account like this. And as the ceremony dragged on, his mind wandered again to the simple life they’d so briefly shared, exiled up in the northern hills. At moments like this he wondered why he’d been so insistent on coming back.
    Distracted, he didn’t see what caused the sudden commotion among the queen’s party. Korathan had an arm around his sister, supporting Phoria as she pressed one hand to her brow.
    “What happened?”
    “A hawk came out of nowhere and struck her head,” Micum told him, frowning.
    “An omen,” Captain Lillia muttered, crossing her fingers against ill luck.
    “I’m no bird reader, but it doesn’t seem a good thing,” Kari murmured behind an upraised hand.
    Seregil said nothing.
    Order was soon restored, but an air of unrest hung over the crowd as Phoria continued the ceremony, exchanging her war helm for the crown.
    When the ceremony was finally over, Phoria faced the people and raised the bloody Sword. In a voice trained to carry across battlefields, she declared, “By the Four, by the Flame and by the Light, I will defend Skala!”
    The royal party moved on into the Temple of Illior, signaling the distribution of free ale and food to begin. Signs and omens were quickly forgotten as the festivities commenced.
             
    Alec and the others went to Kylith’s for a feast. Micum and his family left early, but Seregil and Alec stayed, singing and drinking, and returned to Wheel Street late and drunk.
    It was well past midnight, but they found the steward, Runcer, waiting for them in the salon with a royal herald.
    “This man arrived for you at sundown, my lord,” he announced, and withdrew.
    Seregil collapsed into an armchair and looked blearily up at the blue-clad messenger. “Well, well. What can she want with me at this hour?”
    “I was sent by his Highness, the Vicegerent, with a message for you and Lord Alec of Ivywell,” the man replied. “You are commanded to attend the queen first thing tomorrow morning, in the Chamber of Judgment.”
    Drunk as he was, Alec’s gut tightened at those words. “Are we being arrested?”
    “If past experience is anything to go by, he wouldn’t send us a warning first.” Seregil chuckled. “Please, good sir herald, give my regards to his Highness, and assure him that we are honored by this invitation, and will do our best to be there.” The herald arched a brow at the flippant reply. “Go on, tell him. He won’t mind.”
    “As you wish, my lord. From your lips to the Vicegerent’s ear.”
    “You’re drunker than I thought,” Alec muttered, helping Seregil up to their room. “What were you thinking, sending a message like that?”
    Seregil let out an inelegant snort and leaned on the wall while Alec fumbled with the bedroom latch. “Kor? He won’t care. And serves ’im right, calling us out at such a wretched hour, after a festival night.