“Thank you, Asher. I hope you’re feeling better after everything that?—”
“Stad cantare ad’ihm!”Silas shouts, whirling to glower at the empty kitchen with blood magic dancing on his fingertips.
“Si,” I prompt quietly, gripping his shoulder so he’ll stand down. “There’s no one there.”
His breathing is rapid until he finally drops into one of the spare wooden chairs near the fireplace to rest his head in his hands.
“It would only be for a few hours,” he rasps, clearly talking to Lillian again as he deals with whatever is happening in his mind. “You know we wouldn’t leaveima sangfluir’sside unless we deemed it absolutely necessary.”
Lillian studies him thoughtfully. Douglas finishes healing her and yawns again before folding his arms.
“You’re seriously trying to ditch her for the day? In case you forgot, the last time your psychotic keeper got pissed off, she massacred most of the fat cat legacies with a smile on her face as her demon chickens pecked out everybody’s eyeballs. I wouldn’t ask for round two of that nasty temper if I were you.”
“Her temper is perfect,” I snarl as a rush of anger makes blue heat flicker under my skin. “Mine is the one to watch out for, so keep your motherfucking mouth shut when it comes to my mate. Besides, we’re not ditching her, we’re just going to get her heart so?—”
Silas quickly sits up and kicks my shin to shut me up. Good thing, because I don’t know who does or doesn’t know about Maven’s missing heart.
But Lillian must know, because her face transforms with realization as she rubs her now-healed shoulder. “Oh. I almost forgot he still had it. But if you go after it, you’ll be traveling way too far into the reach of the Nether if it’s still where it was?—”
“It’s not,” Silas clarifies. “Dagon has it now.”
She gets very pale and whispers a prayer to Arati. To Douglas’s credit, he doesn’t bother asking what we mean byit,or who Dagon is. Instead, he goes back to cleaning his gun like we’re not even here.
Lillian stands and regards the two of us very seriously with her bright blue eyes. “All right. I’ll distract Maven as well as I can, because frankly, I don’t wanthimnear her ever again. He’s—he’s just…ascútráche,”she finishes with surprising bitterness.
Silas’s brows go up. It looks like he’s trying not to smile, which makes me think that’s some kind of fae curse that took him by surprise.
“You really did teach Maven her fae,” he muses. Then he stands to open the door for her. “We’ll take care of thescútráche.Thank you, Lillian.”
She smooths her bloodied outer jacket, looking between us one last time. “All right. But please come back safe and unharmed, because if you don’t, she’ll never forgive any of us.”
“We’ll be fine,” I assure her, smiling. “Thanks again for the suppressants. And sorry again about biting you. When we get back, I’ll make dinner for all of us to make it up to you.”
“If all the people who are trying to get into Everbound to meet the demigoddess herself haven’t destroyed the place by then, that is,” Asher Douglas grumbles from the table.
Lillian says goodbye to us one more time and leaves. Silas is zoning out again despite his tight hold of the blood amuletaround his neck, pupils blown as he mutters in fae under his breath. Not liking that he’s in such bad shape with this mercenary asshole to see it, I decide to suffer Silas’s wrath later and toss him over one of my shoulders to stroll out of the dorm.
Everbound Castle is completely empty. No Reformists, no mercenaries, nothing. It’s starting to weird me out until Crypt appears out of fucking nowhere, startling me. He’s leaned up against the hallway wall, smoking leisurely while his markings continue to light up.
“Frost had all his Reformists sent to stay in Halfton last night. No one but the Baird quintet is allowed in while we’re away.”
“Good,” I grunt, shifting Silas’s weight on my shoulder slightly as he starts rambling in fae. “Where’s Maven?”
“Still fast asleep in Frost’s bed after the rounds we put her through last night,” the Nightmare Prince smirks before pushing off the wall to walk toward one of Everbound’s nearby courtyard exits. “Frost is this way, waiting for the Nether caster to get here.”
Nether caster? It takes a second for me to understand as I follow. “The one who helped the Nether humans escape? Francis or Finn or…what was his name?”
“How the hell would I know?”
I roll my eyes, finally setting Silas down when he starts to struggle. “Oh, I don’t know—maybe you would have heard his name again at some point since you weren’t trapped inside a twenty-five-ton scaly beast for the last six months.”
“Even if I did, why would I bother remembering it?” he shrugs, exhaling more smoke.
“His name is Felix,” Silas supplies hoarsely. The fae staggers a bit but smacks my hand away when I try to steady him. “Enough. I’m fine. Let’s get this over with and get toima sangfluir ante fhada.”
This time, when he realizes he’s not using words we understand, he just tosses his hands in the air and storms through the doors into the courtyard with us right behind him. It’s snowing outside, no fucking surprise there, but at least it’s not as cloudy as it was in Manhattan. Everett is standing nearby, talking quietly with the same Nether-born caster I met briefly months ago.
Felix glances at the rest of us as we approach, keeping his face blank in a way that reminds me of Maven’s tendency to hide her emotions from people she doesn’t know. He looks less corpse-like after a few months in the mortal realm, but his skin is still sort of gray-ish, which I guess must be a Nether human thing.
