Lunara zig-zagged back and forth, gathering everything she could possibly need in her search and sending it into the ether for later, cataloguing all of the new information as she went.
The biggest relief was that her mistrust of Vann had been misplaced. At least, so far as him being any sort of murderous villain. There was no question he was hiding something, but it was one of those problems for another day.
“Concealing her will be easy, but we’ll need to make everyone else believe she’s still here,” she said, stuffing random clothes into a pack and magicking the mass away.
Brand’s dagger stared at her from its perch on the mantle, still stuck through the belt he’d slung around her waist that night.Stay with her,he’d said—and it had, somehow. Choosing to leave it behind was one of the hardest decisions she’d ever made, but if the worst happened and she lost that piece of him?—
No. It didn’t bear thinking about.
“Concealed or not, I won’t be leaving you. My life is yours until my debt is paid.”
Lunara straightened and looked at Fern, shaking her head. “There’s no debt, I already told you that.”
Approximately a thousand times, but who’s counting?
Before Magnus had delved into the whole story, she’d tried to grapple with the wall in Fern’s mind again, to see what hadgone wrong. All she could surmise was that the opening she’d made was too small for more of Fern’sselfto come through. Fortunately or unfortunately, she’d refused further treatment, citing—once more—that Lunara had done enough and there were more pressing matters.
Her language had been somewhat more colorful, though. In fact, she was maybe taking her amnesia too well, all things considered.
“Fuck off,” Fern said, waving her hand. “You’ve saved me twice, and you clearly need help. What are you going to do with those, eh?”
Lunara looked down at the dirty gardening gloves in her hand. “Um…”
“Exactly. Take a breath. You’re all over the twigging place.”
There wasn’t fucking time to take a breath. She had to find Brand.
“I don’t need help. I need to leave.” For some asinine reason, she sent the gloves to the ether, refusing to look at either Magnus or Fern as she did it. “Hedda and Faldir aren’t coming. They, along with Baldrir and Nyri, can pretend they’re still guarding her to keep appearances.”
“Fuck.”
Lunara stilled at his tone, goosebumps crawling over her skin. “What is it?”
Magnus stood and crossed the room, stopping in front of her. “There are still… We haven’t… Fuck.” His hands scrubbed over his face and into his matted hair.
“What?”
“We’ve been searching the rubble, but it’s a lot even for the Demons and their power. Everyone is exhausted and…”
“Spit it out, Magnus,” she hissed.
“The night of the attack, a group was lost. Nyri, along with Bal and about a dozen others, have yet to be found in the wreckage.”
“No, that’s not possible.”
Isn’t it, though? Think about it.
There wasn’t a creature in all of Bordoroth with enough power to stop Nyriadne when she wanted something, and the young Demon would have fought horn and fist to be allowed in to see her.
Except, Lunara hadn’t laid eyes on her since waking.
Fury, hot and swift, slammed into her. “Why was she down there?!” Her palms smacked into Magnus’s chest. “Who let her go? Who let that happen?” Again. “She’s barely more than a child!”
A sweet, innocent being. A perfect friend. This couldn’t be happening. Not Nyri, too. Not Baldrir.
Lunara was utterly out of control. Couldn’t breathe. It was too much.
“Aye,” Magnus growled, gripping her wrists to stop the blows. “I’m of a mind to agree with you, so stop bleeding hitting me.”
