Three days. Three endlessdays that had lasted an eternity, since Elizabeth had last felt Darcy at the other end of the dragon scale. The last two evenings she had gone to the oak grove at sunset, as if being in the center of his power when the dragon scale activated could make a difference.
It did not. There was only silence.
Each morning she arose after hardly sleeping, exhausted from crying, wondering if this was the day she should don a black dress. It felt wrong to be wearing colors when she was grieving so bitterly. Why had she not tried harder to stop him from going? Now she would never see him again. All she would have was her too-brief memories of their time together. It seemed an impossibly thin thread to sustain her for the rest of her life.
But she had to dress in her normal colors, for she could not explain to the world why she believed Darcy to be dead. The cruel tyranny of keeping up appearances forced her to pretend everything was normal. If, by some tiny chance, Darcy was still alive, she would not endanger him by admitting to his mission.
Only Frederica and the dragons knew what had happened, though Chandrika had likely guessed the truth. No one else knew her world had ended. Not even Georgiana, who had not been told about the dragon scales in the first place.
Which was why, when Georgiana paid an unusual midmorning visit to her sitting room, Elizabeth tried to force a smile to her frozen lips. Then she noticed a peculiar expression on her sister-in-law’s face, pained and frightened. “Good morning, Georgiana. Is something troubling you?”
“A fae brought me a message today,” she said slowly. “It came from a hobgoblin in France. He sent this, with instructions that I should give it to you.” And she held out a dragon scale, the match to Elizabeth’s.
Elizabeth’s head swam. There it was, the proof she had dreaded.
Nothing mattered anymore. Not appearances, not anything. She bent forward, putting her head to her knees, gasping for breath. Darcy was gone.
Georgiana’s words seemed to come from a great distance. “What is it, Elizabeth? Because there is more. My brother is hurt.” There was a hitch in her voice.
Hurt?
Elizabeth lifted her tear-soaked face. “He is…alive?”
Georgiana gave her an odd look. “Yes, but he is injured. A bullet wound in his shoulder, he said. Poor Fitzwilliam!”
Somehow she stumbled to her feet. “Will he survive?”
“The fae who told me seemed to think so, but the message had passed through multiple hands. And there was another part, too, that I did not understand.”
Alive. He was alive! A mere bullet wound seemed like the slightest trifle, if it meant she might see Darcy again someday. “What is that?”
“He said the French emperor has a dragon lodestone.” She held up the dragon scale. “That is how they tracked my brother, by following him whenever he used this for magic, so Fitzwilliam told them to take it far away from him. I hope that makes more sense to you than it does to me.”
That was why Darcy had not responded, because he had sent the scale away for his own safety. The rest of Georgiana’s words seemed to float right past her, for all the sense she could make of them.
Nothing else mattered as long as Darcy was alive.
Frederica came to stand beside her. “What is this dragon lodestone? How does it work?”
Georgiana turned up her hands. “I do not know. The fae did not explain anything.”
“Perhaps that is how Napoleon is locating the Nests,” Frederica said.
Elizabeth found her voice. “Did they say where he is? And if he is safe?”
The girl shook her head. “Just that he was recovering. I tried to ask questions, but he would not stay. I wish I knew more.”
A light frisson of magic tingled Elizabeth’s arm, the one near Frederica. She must be sending to Quickthorn.
“Can you send a message back? Perhaps find out where he is?” Elizabeth asked haltingly.
Georgiana bit her lip, as if expecting to be scolded. “I do not know how, and when I asked my own fae, they said that is not how these things work.” Her voice shook.
Somehow Elizabeth managed to salvage a bit of her shredded composure. “Georgiana, I cannot tell you how grateful I am to know this much. Your connections have proved most valuable today, and I thank you for it.”
He was alive! And that meant everything to her.
Elizabeth looked up as the butler’s voice came from outside the closed doors of the drawing room. “Sir, are you certain you would not like to take a few minutes to refresh yourself?”
