Chapter Fifty-Five

“Isn’t it so good to be home?” Luna sang, throwing her arms to the sky. Her new black cloak fit snug and warm against her second skin, trailing all the way down to the cobblestoned ground below. She took a great, deep breath of chilly Axarian air and smiled at her travel companions.

They stood together at the bottom of the mountain. Overhead, the ornate iron gates loomed high, but the palace loomed higher. She could see the ripples of magic where the wards began, stretching all the way to the Wall.

Orion grinned wide as Harry blinked up at the mountain. They had linked arms. It was adorable. “Sure is.” After realizing Luna would be heading directly to the capital, they had changed their minds about slogging all the way across the ocean to Eradoris. She didn’t blame them.

“Will you be all right heading over to your father’s house on your own?” she asked Orion. Theodore Galashiels lived in the west residential sector, bordering the outskirts of the trade and entertainment districts of Axaris. “I could have Killian escort you there.”

Her fellow anygné was bent over by the gates, examining the ground with her hands in her pockets. She glanced their way at the mention of her name. “Killian what?”

“Don’t worry about it!” Orion called back. “We’ll be fine. And I won’t be on my own, anyway.” He nudged Harry. “I’ve got an anygné of my own. Thank you for offering, though.”

“Send your father my dearest,” said Luna with a soft smile. She hadn’t seen Theo for nearly a year, since last Vürstivale—the winter holiday honoring the Immortals. Or, at least, all of the Immortals excluding Eoin.

“Will do.” Orion leaned his head on Harry’s shoulder. “It’s about time I finally introduce my father to this one.”

Harry blushed. “As kindly as Orion says he is, I’m quite terrified.”

Luna’s smile grew. “I’m sure he’ll be very happy to meet you. Just don’t forget that he was the King of Axaria’s Royal Guardian for many, many decades and probably knows more than a thousand ways to kill you if you break his son’s heart.”

Harry scrunched his face, obviously offended. “I would never.”

Orion laughed and entwined their fingers. “I, for one, am thoroughly convinced. Anyway, we’ll be off. Good luck with . . . whatever it is you have to do.”

She beamed and pulled them both into a hug. “Thank you. That means a lot to me.”

After they all separated, Orion and Harry turned onto the street that would lead them to the west road, where they could hail a hansom. The Guardian sent her a last wave over his shoulder.

As Luna waved back cheerfully, Killian sauntered to her side. “So, what now?”

She pulled up her hood. “Time for a heist.”

Side by side, they strolled toward the gates. Several mounted guards awaited their approach. Luna turned her face away. By the time they had almost reached the guards, she had painted the inner fabric of the cloak crimson and donned a brand new face.

And this time, it wasn’t just an illusion.

“How do I look?” she whispered to Killian.

Killian’s mouth dropped open. It turned out that dark magic had its perks, after all. “Damn. You sound like her, too?”

When the guards’ eyes landed on Luna and widened in shock, her heart stuttered for the briefest moment.

Would they see through her guise?

Then, in a flurry, they broke rank and rushed to open the gates. As Luna and Killian entered, a pair of guards graciously offered them their steeds to ride up the mountain.

“Welcome home, Your Majesty,” one of them said.

“Why, thank you,” Luna replied, unable to hide her delight. The guard beamed back at her, completely ignorant, and saluted.

As Killian mounted her horse, she regarded the soldiers like a cat watching birds trapped in a gilded cage. Once the guards were safely out of earshot, she smirked at Luna. “Nicely done, my queen.” Her amber eyes glinted garnet in the fiery glow of the setting sun. “So . . . what are we heisting, again?”

“Nothing much,” said Luna, in Asterin’s voice. “Just the throne of Axaria.”