“Yes.” I point at my neck, where the opus stone is. “I happened to use it to save your life.” She frowns, confused, and I continue, “Let’s go.”
“I thought the key was the right one,” she says.
I glare at the fae princess. “How do you even know it didn’t work?”
“I’ll explain later.” She glances at Tarlia. “Sorry I couldn’t get you out earlier.”
Tarlia, unusually quiet, just nods.
“No, really,” I insist, and ask Mirella, “How do you know the key was wrong? I made no promise not to usemymagic against you.”
She blinks, then looks down. “I could see what was happening. Not sure why. Now let’s go.”
“You could have freed Tarlia earlier, couldn’t you?” I ask her.
“And go where?”
Tarlia then says, “Discuss later. We have to leave.”
We walk to the path where Renel was supposed to wait for us, but it’s empty.
“What’s wrong?” Tarlia asks.
“Renel should be here, and he’s not.”
The sound of hooves comes from back in the trail and we retreat into the woods.
“It’s me,” Renel says, pulling four horses with him. “We’ll ride north.”
I’ve seen too much weird stuff to trust my eyes, so I ask, “Are you Renel Goldenstar, Marlak’s brother?”
“I’m Renel. Marlak’s brother, yes.”
It looks like him all right, wearing the same clothes, but I don’t understand what he’s doing. “Shouldn’t we return to the circle?”
“No. We need to go north.”
Mirella stares at him, seeming more disappointed than angry. “You promised to take me to Marlak.”
“Yes,” he replies. “When I go there. Except that right now, we’re riding elsewhere.”
Tricky Renel. I’m assuming he doesn’t trust Mirella, which makes sense.
Her lips tremble, and she looks genuinely sad. “That wasn’t part of the plan.”
“It is now,” Renel says.
He helps Tarlia mount her horse and yet there’s something odd about him; he barely addressed her. Anyway, I mount my horse, Mirella mounts hers with no complaints, and we set off. I don’t know what Renel’s plan is even if I sort of understand why we aren’t going back to the island house.
I just hope he isn’t leading us into more trouble.
15
MARLAK
Iwas prepared to burn the entire place all at once, but I hesitate, unwilling to burn Crisine alive. As much as any affection I had for her is long gone, I don’t wish to kill her.
“Who are you?” I ask, wondering if I’ll be able to identify a realistic glamour.
