The Dark Remains Read Online Free PDF

her, save to laugh when she slipped on a rotten apple. It seemed Teravian had changed little during his years in Ar-tolor save to grow a bit taller and more cruel. Sometimes Aryn wondered how he could truly be the son of a man as good and brave as King Boreas.
    The queen lifted a slender hand. “Where have I gone amiss, Tressa?”
    The red-haired woman smiled, although it was a mournful expression. “He is a boy fighting a hard battle to become a man. One need not look for other reasons.”
    “And yet there is another reason, is there not?”
    Tressa said nothing, and Aryn wondered what the queen meant. However, Ivalaine spoke before she could.
    “Come closer, sisters. Do not think I have not seen you standing there.”
    The two woman hurried forward and curtsied.
    It was often said that Ivalaine was the most beautiful woman in all of Falengarth. Her hair was like flax, her form slender and proud, her eyes the color of violets touched by frost. Yet Aryn knew there was one even more beautiful than the queen, someone who was a world away.
    I miss you so much, Grace
.
    Once again she hoped Grace and the others were well.
    “It is good of you to come, sisters.”
    “We hastened here as soon as we received your message, Your Majesty,” Lirith said.
    Ivalaine’s eyes glittered as she studied the dark-skinned witch. “So you did.”
    Silence filled the chamber, and a mad urge to start babbling about all they had done that day rose inside Aryn. Fortunately, Tressa spoke before she could give voice to her compulsion.
    “Would you like some wine, my child?”
    Aryn nodded, then had to force herself not to snatch the cup from the witch’s hand and gulp it down in one draught. The wine was cool and clear as rain. Aryn took small sips and felt her nerves grow steadier.
    “It is late,” the queen said, “and I have much yet to do before sleep, so I will be direct. I have called a High Coven to meet here in Ar-tolor at the next dark of the moon.”
    Aryn frowned. She had never heard of a High Coven before. However, by the sudden brilliance in her eyes, Lirith had. The dark-haired witch gripped her goblet in both hands.
    “May I ask, sister, are we to be part of it?”
    Ivalaine nodded. “It is my great hope that both you and your sister Aryn will choose to attend.”
    “It is the first High Coven to be called in seven years,” Tressa said, beaming. “All our sisters shall be there.”
    Lirith’s smoky lips curved in one of her mysterious smiles.
    An unnamable excitement filled Aryn, and she couldn’t restrain herself any longer. “But what
is
a High Coven?”
    Tressa laughed softly. “Why, it’s a wondrous thing, my child. Witches from all the seven Dominions—and from beyond—are journeying to Ar-tolor even now. We shall all come together beneath the stars to weave a common web.”
    “And what is to be discussed?” Lirith said.
    Ivalaine moved to a silver basin that rested on a pedestal, her gown rustling like the wings of a bird. “Matters of great importance.”
    “But what are they?” Aryn asked.
    The queen did not turn around. “I believe that is enough for you to know at present. You will learn more at the coven.”
    Lirith glanced at Aryn. Both knew when a meeting with the queen was over. Questions burned inside Aryn, but they would have to wait. They set their cups down, nodded to Tressa, then moved to leave the chamber.
    “One more thing, sisters,” Ivalaine said, halting them at the door. “You have yet to tell me if you enjoyed your visit to the Mournish caravan.”
    Aryn went stiff, and Lirith sucked in a sharp breath. Ivalaine still gazed into the basin of water, and a jolt of realization coursed through Aryn. The queen had noenchanted mirror, but she had other means to see things. Aryn recalled that day when Ivalaine halted her and Grace in the corridors of Calavere and bid them to gaze into a basin just like this. It was there, in the water, that Aryn had seen the vision of herself riding a