“It’s not like my innate is useful in a fight anyway.” She shrugs. “I have Swift Touch.”
My brows furrow.
“I can open any lock.” She purses her lips. “Or could, rather.”
Eve’s rapid rising among the ranks of an ill-reputed thieving guild becomes crystal clear. Surely such an innate would be an invaluable asset—or become dangerous competition.
“Do you miss it?” I ask as we continue walking.
She nods. “I do.” Lifting her chin, she stares ahead. “I may not have used it much during my time in Celesta’s service, but it’s stillmine.It’s as much a part of me as my hair, or eyesight. If I can get it back…” she trails off.
She doesn’t need to finish.
I feel the same about my shadows.
It’s a piece of ourselves. And if she can reclaim it, she should. I want her to. I want the same for me.
Which means finding Celesta.
I’vetriedto forget about her—about what she’s done, what she’s stolen. I’vetriednot to deliberate where she could be.
But I can’t let it go.
I can’t let myshadowsgo.
I’m not sure howmyshadows ever belonged to her, but the thought of finding her and getting them back keeps me awake through the night. When I’m alone and Ryc’s asleep and my mind wanders.
Netharis stealing pieces of me is expected.
Celesta doing the same… is unforgivable.
Unfortunately, she hasn’t been seen since the night of the eclipse. With the Olloran temple decimated—no devotees survived the eclipse—people believe her to be in mourning.
Not me.
I believe she’s in hiding.
Netharis’ death means her contract is broken—she’smortalonceagain. Her goddesshood revoked and as an instrument leading to Netharis’ death, I imagine Vaelyn isn’t the only god hunting her. Theonlyreason Vaelyn’s blade isn’t poised against my throat is because I left him the hells.
If Fate favors my mother, Vaelyn will find her before I do.
Death will be far kinder than I.
Not wanting to plummet headfirst into hatred, I heave a sigh and turn my attention to Castle Erus.
Towering gray stone spires rise near the center of the city, high above the darkened rooftops of Ollora. Tendrils of ivy nestle and curl against its walls, the green shifting from verdant to bold crimson in a slow-climbing wash. It’s as if the castle is being consumed by a slow-spreading hellfire. A few windows leak silver, keeping the quickly encroaching night at bay for a little while longer.
All of this… Ollora, Castle Erus… it’s become home.
I… have ahome.
A home with my quiet and quaint and secretive life. A home beside Ryc, Eve, Lilith, and even Cyran—the miserable sod he is.
It’salmosteverything I’ve ever wanted.
CHAPTER TWO
The closer wedraw to the castle, the stronger the pull in my chest becomes. It’s always there, the draw leading me back tohim. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it.
