“I will be. It felt fast.”
“Time is not relevant,” Bathin said, “but it was a lot of distance.”
Myra was bent, hands gripping her knees.
“Myra?” I asked. “Are you all right?”
“Dizzy,” she answered. “Just give me a second.”
Rossi didn’t seem fazed by all the rock hopping, nor did Hogan or the two demons.
My heart was still flopping like a fish, so I just kept breathing slowly.
“Delaney?” Bathin asked, checking in on me.
I lifted my finger asking for a moment.
“How many stones have you buried in hell?” Xtelle asked.
“More than will ever be discovered,” Bathin said. “But I don’t have any in the king’s chambers.”
“No, of course you don’t,” Avnas said. “He doesn’t let anyone or anything into his chambers.”
“There is always a way into any place,” Xtelle said. “But that’s not where he’s keeping Ryder.”
“The dungeons?” Avnas asked.
“You’d think so, wouldn’t you?” Xtelle mused. “But according to my spies, he’s keeping him in the sunroom.”
“Huh,” Avnas said. “That’s rather…open.”
“You mean it’s a trap,” Bathin said.
“Of course it’s a trap,” Xtelle said. “He knows we’re coming for Ryder. Well, not us.” She pointed a hoof at Bathin and Avnas. “But he knowsshe’son her way.” She jerked her head toward me.
“How does he know I’m coming?” I pressed my palm against my forehead to stave off the headache building there. “Did your spies tell him?”
“No, dear,” she said, like I was a three-year-old. “Heknows you love Ryder. He knows you’ll try to rescue him. You are a very predictablyhuman.”
“Good,” I said. “Let him set a trap. We’ll still kick his ass.”
“Again with the ass?” Xtelle said. “Head. Kick his head.”
Myra straightened and adjusted the weapons on her shoulder. “I’m ready.”
Jean capped the water bottle and dragged the back of her hand across her mouth. “Aim for the flat top,” she said. “Got it.”
“How close can you get to the sunroom, my Prince?” Avnas asked.
“Not as close as I’d like. I can get us into the corridor. We’ll have to walk from there.”
“More walking?” Xtelle whined. “Really, Bathin, you should be fired. You are a terrible tour guide.”
“Not a vacation,” he said. “We’re rescuing Ryder.”
“Yes, yes, murder, rescue, is it too much to expect some scented lotion? All this walking is ruining my cuticles.”
“How far is it from the corridor to the sunroom?” Myra asked.
