I shudder at the mere possibility. Ilayna leans against the door, looking exhausted.
“No, she was not alright. She was thin. And worn. But I only imagine that what she’s enduring there goes beyond the physical. I don’t think he’s touched her. If tonight proved anything, it’s that hevalues her too much to put his hands on her or to allow anyone else to do so.”
I nod my head, slightly relieved. But that relief sours into nausea when she continues, “Which may not be a good thing.”
She eyes me warily as I wait for an explanation.
“It means he’ll stop at nothing to keep her.”
7
JACE
“Where in the seven hells are you taking us?”
I glance at Zadyn through the corner of my eye. We’re in Solmead, the slums of Vod, filing through the overcrowded streets. The stifling heat mingles with the smell of unbathed bodies, rotting garbage, and utter hopelessness.
“We’re going to visit a lead,” he says, his focus fixed ahead.
Zadyn leads us into a dirty old tavern sandwiched between a meat shop and what’s likely the only tailor in this sad excuse for a village. We slide into a booth in the corner, and I swat away the horde of flies gathered around the ale and crumbs littering the table.
The funny thing is, this feels like home.
I grew up in a village not much better off. After living behind the sparkling walls of Derek’s keep for so long, I almost forgot what this was like.
“Your lead is buried in the heart of the slums?” I look around incredulously.
“Who are we looking for, Zadyn?” Mar asks.
“I heard from Ilayna that an old ward mason who helped construct the wards at the castle is a frequent visitor of this…establishment. I’m hoping he’ll be able to offer us some insight.”
Dover waves over a barmaid and orders us a round.
“If Ilayna and the other courtesans are going in and out of the castle, then how are we not seeing it?” I think out loud.
Zadyn answers, “The wards only permit those already approved by Kylian. She’s told us all she knows of the entrances. The illusion around the perimeter must span for miles.”
“That’s insane. Do you know the kind of magic you would need to generate something of that magnitude?” Dover pitches.
“There’s only one person who can answer that question, and it’s who we’re waiting for. The good news is that Ilayna hasn’t seen any Stryga buzzing around the castle.”
Every time I hear that word, I’m transported to that first attack in the maze. I’m standing in a fountain, bruised and bloody, fighting to get to her in time, praying I taught her well enough to stay alive. And then that scream. That earth-shattering, heartbreaking scream when she thought I might die. The one that decimated those monsters and saved us all.
Serena’s magic has always been fueled by her emotions, by anger and fear. But in that moment, it wasn’t fear that fed her power. It was love.
“This tastes like actual piss.” Mar’s face contorts after one sip of ale, trying to clear the sour taste from her mouth. I shrug, having had worse.
“There he is.”
Zadyn leans forward, bracing his elbows on the table. I follow his gaze to the male slipping through the crowd to take a seat at the bar. He might have been handsome in his youth, but now his jaw is shadowed with stubble, bags droop beneath his eyes, and his slightly overgrown head of salt and pepper hair hangs limp around his shoulders. He slumps onto a stool, his back to us. Zadyn and I lock eyes and are on our feet instantaneously.
“Let me do the talking,” he mutters.
“Fine.” I crack my knuckles. “I prefer to do the torturing, anyway.”
He shoots me a dark look as we sidle up to the male. “Excuse me, are these seats taken?”
The seats are in fact taken. I reach forward and grab the collars of the two males seated on either side of our target and yank them backward. Their asses hit the ground with a thud.
