“You have no idea,” Magnus murmured.
“Shite.” Caius crossed to Baldrir, his hand hovering above Fern’s head. “How is she still alive?”
“Lunara found her in the watchtower clinging to life, and worked her magic.”
“Aye, but look at her. So wee. She should’ve…” Caius turned to Lunara, his gaze searching.
Lunara’s heart skipped a beat, its usual response whenever someone noted her power. It didn’t care that everyone herealready knew what she was capable of. Couldn’t discern between friend and foe. Just stopped for a breathless second before restarting with a galloping pace that chantedrun, run, runwith every nauseating thump.
The dregs of her remaining energy leached away when Caius finally released her from his knowing stare and said, “The others, were they…”
“Worse.” Magnus’s voice was hoarse as he answered his uncle’s unspoken question. “So much worse.”
Caius blew out a heavy breath. “Fuck.”
That was about the gist of the last few days.
Baldrir leaned down. “If you have no other need of me, my lady, I’ll take her now.”
“Yes, of course,” Lunara said through a yawn.
“I was going to say—Nyri and I can keep her company, until you’re ready?”
She nodded as she sat again, the wooden bench starting to look like the Montrealm’s most comfortable bed. “That would put my mind at ease, thank you.”
It was no use. Lunara propped her head in one hand as her eyes closed of their own accord.
“She’s the only one who can tell us exactly what took place in Glynmor,” she heard Magnus say. “Don’t leave her side for a second, and fetch the witchling immediately if something changes.”
Lunara huffed something akin to a laugh. Hopefully nothingchanged. She’d be useless until she partook of a blood gift. Better still if she could steal a few hours of sleep and something to eat.
There’s a bed five yards and a single toll behind you, and none of this nonsense to go with it.
Lunara cracked open one eye and sent a bleary glance towards the portal, the smallest part of her tempted by the idea. She was just sotired.
She gave up entirely and rested her head on the table, lulled by the quiet murmurings of the others into a sort of half-sleep. Not the most comfortable she’d ever been by a long shot, but it would have… to do… until…
At least itwas a dream this time. Or, as close as a memory cropping up in sleep could be calleda dream.
Perhaps it was her parents’ way of visiting from the Veil. She’d been thinking about them quite a lot, after all, and—even if she could never figure outwhatorwhy—she was still convinced there was something she was missing.
Regardless of which snippet of her youth was on display, she both observed as an outsider and lived them all over again. The dual view allowed her to notice things she hadn’t before. Sometimes, it might be the way her mother had smelled. The next, it would be a small nick in her father’s chin she hadn’t realized was there.
Lunara never really allowed herself to see bigger than those mundane, once-missing details. She was too afraid of what she might find. This time, though…
She looked on, feeling every step as she watched herself move.
It was late in the Evesong. Too late for anyone to be awake, let alone for there to be such a heated discussion reverberating through the moonstone walls of her family’s home.
Make that a muffled series of incomprehensible words she couldn’t understand. Lunara saw no reason for that to remain the case.
Hence, the sneaking.
She hopped onto the glowing platform outside her bedroom door and sank. Like most Upper Block towers, theirs has been outfitted with the creation her father was most famous for, enchanted by him to work without any expulsion of personal power. A good thing, since she was reserving hers for her trial.
Lunara snorted at the smug smile on her younger face. If only she’d known.
On the lower level, her bare feet hit the cool floor and left a trail of glowing footprints, the luminescent tiles reacting to her every tip-toed step. Annoying, but such was the way of the Evesong. They’d fade before long.
