“Selene,” Rio says quietly. He and Esme watch me, their eyes wide. “Are you sure?”
When I nod, Callan stands. “Then I’ll take you.”
Esme waves a hand. “And leave us behind? I don’t think so.”
Matthias smiles, although worry lingers in his eyes. “An adventure, then. We should get Sol.”
The shadows prod. A flicker of pain, and I waver. “Where is he?”
“In the town.” Matthias studies me. “It can’t wait, can it?”
I shake my head. “You should stay. I don’t know—I don’t know what this is. What it could be.”
But it will be nothing good. Nothing good can come from so much pain.
“Absolutely not.” He straightens. “And miss out on the fun? We can tell him about it later. He’ll be furious. And since make-up sex is the best kind, this is a winning situation all around.” But his voice wavers.
Their eyes all linger on me. I still hesitate. “I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”
“We’ll take a look,” Callan says softly. He pushes back my damp hair. “And if it’s something dangerous, we’ll get out. But if the alternative is watching you screaming in agony on the bed, I think we all choose the shadows.”
“Exactly,” Rio says promptly. “No forcing needed.”
He nudges Esme, his own hand landing on his weapon. “Get your swords, Smee.”
She heads to the chest at the bottom of my bed, pulling out the twin swords she wore onVolatus. She grins. “I really wasn’t cut out to be a maid. This sounds like far more fun.”
They look at Matthias, and he raises his hands. “Absolutely not. You two can do the protecting. I had my fill of bloodshed during military service. I’m ahealer.”
My temple spikes with pain. The shadows slip around me, nudging at my back. Urging. “We need to go.”
Callan’s hand brushes my back. “Then we are with you.”
Hala, guide us.
Chapter forty-four
Selene
The shadows lead us out into the hall, toward the stairs. I’m grateful that we don’t meet anyone on the way. The others stay close, Callan’s arm hovering in case I stumble.
But my feet strengthen, moving faster.
We head down the stairs, past the hallway that leads toward the great hall and down, into the lower levels of the temple. I barely set foot in here as a child, only to visit the springs. We pass the entrance to those too, our feet almost silent against the stone that gives way to packed, mud-flattened floors.
Callan’s warmth heats my back as he stays close. Our fingers brush. The others bring up the rear, all of us silent.
As we move deeper, losing the light, my legs begin to tremble. Faeytes were not made for being underground. Callan takes my hand. “We can stop.”
I shake my head. Something pushes me on, pushes me to follow. Tosee. My heartbeats sound louder, echoing in my ears as the darkness encloses us.
We look ahead. The winding spiral path at the very bottom of the stairs, where there are no more to descend, gives way to a hallway I’ve never seen. But there are lanterns hanging from hooks in the wall every few feet, fresh candles flickering.
It smells strange. Metallic, almost. As though the scent of iron hangs in the air, iron and salt and something rotten that fills my nose, my lungs.
Somethingwrong.
The others draw their weapons. Callan too, keeping his sword in one hand even as he holds my fingers with the other, keeping me tethered as I fight not to panic against that encroaching, crushing feeling.
