Morna was right. In theory, it was a simple solution for Sol and Cas. Which made it all that much more unlikely to work out, especially if her father had any say. “What about Sol and Cas?”
“Go into your father’s study,” Morna said. “Their way out will be there. The trip may also prove of other value.”
“Well, that’s vague.”
Morna shrugged, her lanky limbs making the motion awkward. “You want more details, it will cost you—nothing is free, Fire Wielder. Especially from us.”
Sawyer rolled her eyes and turned on her heel, toward the open door. “Beat it. I am in no mood to kill you tonight.”
“Sawyerlyn, you must remember your castle has traitors,” Morna called after her. “Nothing we do will matter if they succeed.”
She peered over her shoulder. “Who?”
Morna smirked, that trademark Jinn grin that made a shiver skitter through her. “That sort of information will cost you your soul, Fire Wielder.”
Thirty One
FRIENDSHIPS LIKE FLAMES
THE WHOLE WAYback to the castle, Sawyer fought the urge to incinerate the forest. Flora would hate her endlessly, but gods did she need a way to calm herself, and the fire bubbled in her blood with a relentless intensity that made her very skin itch.
Go into your father’s study, their way out will be there. The trip may also prove of other value.
Sawyer decided against offering her soul for the full explanation of Morna’s warning. The second one seemed more informative and more attainable. Still, was she truly contemplating listening to a Jinn? One of Loumallet’s children? The bloodthirsty demons who kill innocents and children?
Grant it, this particular one was nice, which truly added more to the confusion.
She and her Court had seen countless slaughters during their travels through Erriadin, significantly worse the past few months. The Jinn were, beyond a reasonable doubt, evil vermin who sought only to feed on the weak and mess with minds, from the Lower, animalistic kinds to the Mind Slayers. If they had kept to their island within the Helian Ocean exclusively, perhaps they could have coexisted. At one point in time, it was said they did.
But the Jinn got bored, as most evil does.
Someone within your castle is lying.
Running a hand through her hair, Sawyer decided she would dealwith that warning later.
By the time she rode back through the gates, it was nearly midnight. Still, the courtyards were lively with Earth Caller students tending to the gardens, some also in their excavating gear, surely going into the tunnels for nighttime lessons. If they were making their descent into the land, it likely meant Jeriyah had taken repose from holding his enchantments within the kingdom. As High Scribe, it was the one duty the old fool couldn’t slack on.
Sawyer left Fey in her stall after some minutes of quiet mane brushing, a habit that served to placate them both. Students, servants, and officials all gave her small bows as she passed. Sawyer always wondered which of her birthrights they bowed to.
The chances of her making it to her father’s study unconfronted were slim. It was deep within the castle, behind labyrinths of hallways, doors, and eyes.
Sawyer stomped past the throne room, past the dark corner she knew would lead her into the first of the path of hallways, ultimately converging into the one that would lead to her father's study. She took a moment—just a moment—to think it through. Was this really what it had come to?
With a tight sigh and heat in her bones, she backtracked her steps and turned into the hallway.
Thankfully, the castle staff were preoccupied elsewhere. Sawyer was met with no resistance as she rounded the final corner, the severe silence only adding to her unease. She passed a few servants when she crossed into the next corridor, but they paid her little attention besides a disinterested glance. After minutes of her moving through corners, cracks in walls, and avoiding guards, she reached the final turn, that single red-and-gold door looming alone at the end.
She had only been allowed near it a handful of times, and each of them left her plagued by nightmares. Her boots scraped lightly against the carpet as she stopped before it.
Reaching her hand to the doorknob, she sighed.
Not even Emberdon’s fire could calm the chill that ran through her.
For Cas.
For Sol.
For Erriadin, damn it.
