Byrne fell to his knees, still somehow at attention, his eyes fastened on Raisa.

Raisa tapped each shoulder with the flat of the blade. “Rise, Captain Amon Byrne, Commander of the Queen’s Guard.”

Han looked over at the Bayars in time to see a quick look exchanged between Micah and Fiona. Lord Bayar tilted his head toward the general next to him, who was filling Bayar’s ear with something. Bayar was completely expressionless.

Princess Mellony seemed a bit blindsided by the cascade of events. She gripped the arms of her chair, her blue eyes wide, shifting from Raisa to Amon, and then to Micah, as if for a clue.

But Micah gazed at Raisa with a half smile of grudging admiration.

They know they’ve been outplayed, Han thought. The more Raisa accomplishes out in the open, in front of witnesses, the less that can be forced on her behind closed doors.

Han had no illusions that it would stop them, but it would complicate things at least. Raisa had marched into the old neighborhood with her gang, and made show to those who wanted to challenge her.

It was well done.

By now the queen’s pyre had burned down to ashes, fueled by the holy oils the speakers used. Raisa smiled at her sister, taking her hands and gently lifting her to her feet. She embraced Mellony again, her younger sister towering over her. She led Mellony over to the bier, where they stood, hand in hand. As Han watched, Raisa leaned over and whispered something in Mellony’s ear.

Speaker Jemson sprinkled a powder over the flames, and a plume of gray-and-white smoke spiraled up, organizing itself into a sleek, fine-boned wolf with blue eyes. She descended to the ground, landed lightly and walked forward, stiff-legged, her ruff bristling about her head, to touch noses with the assembled wolves.

Thunder growled over Hanalea, and the rain came slashing down in huge drops that exploded as they hit the dais. The wolves turned as one and loped away, vanishing into the rain-thickened air.

C H A P T E R  T W E N T Y - F I V E

HOMECOMING

It was a great day.

It was a terrible day.

Raisa had never felt braver.

She had never been more frightened.

She had never been lonelier.

She had never felt more loved.

And now she was on her way home.

The fierce courage that had fueled her during the long service at Marianna’s tomb had ebbed, leaving exhaustion in its wake. She rode, embedded within her guard, Amon to her right and forward, Han to her left and behind her, surrounded by Demonai warriors, with Reid Nightwalker and her father, Averill, Lord Demonai, always within sight.

Behind them came her former nurse, Magret Gray, and the other Maidens of Hanalea, their pendants displayed outside their cloaks, honoring the line they’d sworn to serve.