“Cassandra,” he snarled, and Croak looked from Rydon’s demonic face to where his gaze was directed. He opened his mouth, but Rydon took off, his stride eating up the distance to the blonde witch, who was busy dancing between two men and another woman.
Rydon grabbed the blonde by the arm and dragged her out of her dancing orgy, her yelp of surprise swallowed up by the music. Ignoring the protests of the crowd, he forced the woman to walk in front of him, her hands flying up to claw against his hold on her upper arm. Croak scampered behind them and soon Vassori and Gabriol materialized at his side.
The shock of the cold after the warmth of the building stole the air from Croak’s lungs. Smoke rose from their heated skin. His body shook uncontrollably, and he hunched over, hugging his arms across his chest in an effort to warm himself.
The blonde woman laughed when Rydon shoved her against the side of the building, sounds from a nearby tavern drifting over to them to mingle with the music coming from the dance hall.
“I left her with you and now she’s gone,” Rydon accused, his finger dangerously close to the woman’s face. She laughed as if she had a death wish. Croak hunched further into himself.
“Do I need to be here for this?” he whined as the woman chuckled.
“Where is she?”
“Who?” the witch taunted. Croak’s eyes widened and he stilled his shaking body to stare.
Oh fuck.
Rydon’s eyes narrowed and he snapped his hand out, pinning the woman against the rough stone wall by the neck. She laughed again.
“Where?” Rydon asked again, his voice ominously soft.
The woman sneered. “She went for a walk.”
“Where?”
“Ah,” the woman said, tilting her head as best she could with Rydon’s meaty hand at her throat. “Where indeed.”
“Don’t play games, witch,” Gabriol said.
The woman’s gaze flicked to him with something like surprise before she turned back to Rydon. “I don’t know where.”
“I brought her to you for guidance, and you?—”
“I’ll give her guidance,” the woman spat, lurching forward enough to startle Rydon into removing his hand. She yanked on her clothes to right herself and lifted her chin. “When she returns from wherever she went, she’ll have questions for me.”
“I thought you’d already?—”
“In my vision,” the woman interrupted, her voice hard and imperious, “in my vision, she disappeared right before my eyes. She returned, much later, disheveled and angry. When she came to me, she told me she’d been to see Daris Antonius, and she wanted to know how that was possible. How she could’ve traveled such a distance without being aware of ever leaving. And in such a short amount of time.”
At the baffled looks they all shot at her, the woman smiled like a cat that ate a very fat canary.
“I don’t believe you,” Rydon barked at the woman. She laughed, dancing a finger in front of Rydon’s face.
“I cannot tell you how often I hear that,” she sang, then waved her hand dismissively. “It matters not. It is one of her powers,” she added, her tone cool even as she looked at Rydon knowingly. “She’s never manifested it before. My vision showed me our conversation, and the one that comes after her return, so I know it was her first time. She’s very close to her majority. I wonder what other powers will surface.”
This last was said in such a way Croak sensed she already knew the answer.
Rydon must’ve as well because he stepped closer to the woman.
“What…” he shook his head, scrubbing a hand down his mouth and beard. “What kind of power is that?”
The blonde shrugged. “All the Olympians have the power to disappear and reappear elsewhere in an instant. But I have never seen it, obviously. It is only because of my visions I know that’s what happened to her tonight.”
“When will she be back?” Croak asked, his teeth chattering.
“I don’t know,” the woman replied, vapor puffing as she exhaled. She shrugged. “I can’t tell time from my visions. But I was still inside the gambling den when she found me. Although,not many people were around. My best guess is morning. What morning, though… I’m not sure.”
Rydon swore.
