I was desperately weary. Since the moment Melek instructed that Yilan and I would become the unknownspirit guidesto the mediums that advised the powerful men in the city, I had worked most ofthe night, and slept most of the day, but I was still supposed to be Jann’s slave. His claimed woman. Some meetings and appearances were unavoidable. The past week had been a blur of sleeping when I could, dressing and acting when I was under theGolden Eyes,then fulfilling my truest purpose through most of the night.
The sickness from the baby never quite left me. Some mornings I couldn’t eat. Others I was ravenous. Often, when I did eat, I lost it an hour later—but then my body craved foodto settle the sickness. It was a vicious and exhausting cycle that only slightly improved as the day wore on.
Yet, despite my weariness, it was those hours in the evening when Yilan and I set out into the deep shadows that I felt the most human. Normal.Me.I played no role before the eyes of men, and pretended nothing except what would move me closer to the goal. I made decisions, and rose or fell on my own merits. I hadpurpose,beyond simply looking a part.
It was those hours that kept me on my feet each day, as my pregnancy progressed and became… miserable.
The clock ticking on one of the other shelves broke through my self-pitying thoughts and reminded me it was already past the time I’d told Jann I would return. Yet, even as I prepared to leave, something about the woman’s expression kept me standing there, wondering if there was a way to lift her spirits, or in some way strengthen her—but I could think of nothing. The weight she bore was one she’d carried well before this ugly new season in all our lives, and how could I speak into that? It was so frustrating.
Moments later, I braced myself for movement. Since I’d become pregnant, walking the shadows, especially when I was tired, tended to make my head spin, and actual movement while walking the shadows could become vertigo. I kept to the edge of the room where the shadows were deepest, and silently pleaded with this poor woman to forgive me for not getting her out of here, when the door at the side of the room swung open, pushing the curtain wide around it, and a massive Nephilim strode in, fighting to push back the thick velvet falls she’d closed when she was reading for the other male earlier.
I startled, and Manna shot to her feet with a gasp, but recovered quickly, bowing low when the man slapped back the fabric and his face was revealed. Then she scuttled back to her seat.
I, however, instinctively took a step back.
Althok, a rugged, hefty Nephilim, was one of Gall’s so-called Advisors. I was here because Jann learned that he and a few others frequented this woman and her sisters. Between us, Yilan and I had been visiting each of the women almost daily, hoping for a chance to speak into their minds. But there’d been no sign of any of these powerful men before now.
Adrenaline flooded my veins, and I could sense the medium’s fear as well, though hers was a deep, dark dread. She didn’t fear him because he was unknown. Quite the opposite. Her dread was founded in experience.
She kept her head down, and made herself small in her seat as he approached the table. His golden eyes glowed with a strange light as he yanked out the chair opposite her and dropped into it, leaning on the table, gazing intently at her.
“You’re late,” he said, which I found strange. He’d been the one to arrive. She was already here. Despite that, she only flinched.
“Skate stayed longer than usual. It’s very difficult to make him move along if I’m not to reveal my other responsibilities—”
“Find a reason next time. I needsomesleep.”
Manna nodded jerkily. Her hands shook as she picked up the cards and began to shuffle again. Then he sat back in the seat, which creaked under his weight, and tapped one hand on the tabletop. “Not the fucking cards, they were useless last time. Too vague. Solstice is coming. I have questions. I need them answered.”
She froze and blinked at the table. I felt the tension in her ratchet up a notch, and a bead of sweat appeared at her temple.
Fury at this man, and others like him who kept the women here in terror, rose in my chest. But I smiled through it.
Thank God I’d stayed. I prayed that his questions naturally aligned with all the things heneededto hear.
“The cards are—”
“Useless—they can be interpreted too many ways. I wantanswers.”
She swallowed hard. “It’s late and I’ve been working. I can’t always reach the spirits—”
“You will,” he said bluntly, his tone dark with warning.
She nodded but I could see her knee bouncing, making the tablecloth sway, and my heart went out to her. Glaring at the man across the table, I found myselfthrilledthat I had a chance to speak to her tonight.
This fucker needed humbling.
Manna got to her feet to put the cards in a basket, then hurried to the shelf near where I stood in the shadows. With shaking hands, she selected a handful of items, then returned to the table with dragging feet.
She began to whisper words as she laid the items out on the table—three small baskets with wooden lids, a round, black tin that seemed unusually heavy when she placed it on the table and had the dull luster of age, and a taper. To my delight, she took the taper and circled the room, blowing out every candle and lantern in the room until the shadows reached right to the table itself. She reached the last candle, a tall, white one on a bronze holder on the shelf to the right. She lit the taper from it—her hand trembling so badly it took a moment—then blew the candle out and carried the taper back to the table, shielding it with her free hand.
Her voice, deep and husky, began a low, rolling chant and the small steps she took were in time. She used words I didn’t understand, but they made my skin crawl as she took measured steps back towards the table. When she stood at her chair, she went still, chanting and slowly extending the shaking taper to the candle at the center of the table.
The wick flared as it took, and my heart pounded. But the increased darkness behind her allowed me to step closer.
She chanted a few more seconds, then held the last word out, long and low, until she lost all her air. Then she inhaled deeply and blew out the taper as she sank into the chair, with her eyes closed and head bowed.
Althok waited, his gaze avid. I couldn’t tell if the glow in his eyes intensified because of whatever sick power he drew on, or if it was merely the candle’s light reflecting, but it turned my stomach either way.
