Remy walked over the stained carpet to stand beside Elysia. Her mouth was a hard, flat line as she stared at their tied-up friend. “I’m the one who demanded you be bound by blood and magic.”
Daphne was speechless, but Remy wasn’t done. “I have madeendlessexcuses for you over the years. I thought you would grow out of it—the utter lack of self-awareness, the blind climbing for better position, never giving a shit how anyone in our kingdom is affected by what’s going on within our protected castle walls. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen you do a single thing for anotherhuman out of the goodness of your own heart. Let me be clear, I will handle you myself if you screw this up and Elysia dies.”
A mixture of shock and shame held Daphne in place. She rested against the wall in defeat, but still her voice was scathing. “Not all of us are smart enough to be philanthropic, local business-saving mavens, Remy Peraldine. I might not have given a shit about the people outside the castle walls, but that was because I knew I was one bad day away from being one of them.” She flicked her eerie gaze to Elysia. “You’re not so different from me. That’s why you’re the one offering me a chance.”
Elysia shook her head. “No, we’re very different, but someone helped me climb out of a hole, so I’m throwing you a rope. Do you want it or not?”
Daphne refused eye contact, staring at the water-marked thin plaster wall. “I’ll do the summoning. If I disappear, he’ll kill my parents. The only reason yours aren’t dead is because your father had all his apprentices executed for being cursed. There’s no one to replace him yet.”
This news should have stunned her, but it didn’t. She’d waited and waited for Beatriz to casually mention their parents had been killed for her betrayal of the Crown, but as the months went by and they remained alive and at the castle, she knew Jack Parker had done what he did best, and pulled every string he could to keep his position. She tapped her nails on the handle of her dagger.
“You’re sure?”
Daphne ignored Elysia’s question to glower coldly at Remy. “You think you’re better than me, but you’re not. Just be thankful you’re not the one warming his bed.” She turned her face away from them all again.
Elysia sighed. This wasn’t the outcome she’d been hoping for. “If you change your mind, get word to Jessa at the Salty Rim.”
Daphne’s shoulders curved, but she didn’t face them. “The steamships leave soon for Sagondia. You should do it then. He won’t know I’m gone.”
Grim’s reapers had already gathered the intel, but Elysia thanked her, knowing Daphne was struggling to make sense of how to keep herself safe. It wasn’t so long ago someone had called her selfish and given her a chance. She glanced at Remy, who was still staring at Daphne like she wanted to slap her. They’d always been closer, and she knew Remy hated nothing more than not being able to help someone who needed it.
Gaze on Daphne, Elysia spoke. “Everyone out.” Quiet but commanding, everyone filed out except Emmellin, who hung in the doorway.
“You sure you don’t need a hand?” Her already split red knuckles held onto the peeling door frame.
“I’m good,” Elysia answered with a low laugh, giving her dagger a pointed wave.
“Fine, fine.” Emmellin swaggered off with her blonde hair rippling, leaving them alone.
Elysia turned back to Daphne. “Before we get to the deal. I have another request.”
“What else could you possibly want?”
Elysia shut the door. Five minutes later, she drew blood from them both and sprinkled Deathlands dirt into the wounds, whispering the words she’d been taught. Daphne Reynolds would see her part through or the magic of the Deathlands would take her.
Chapter 40
For the firsttime since her death voyage began, Elysia traveled back to the Deathlands without being sopping wet. Rollie had handed her a squishy waterskin of lake water and wished her luck. She stared at the now empty water pouch, deeply irritated that she hadn’t thought of trying something like this months ago.
She washed the day off, hoping it would relax her enough to get some rest, but the hot water and steam did nothing to slow the constant battering of worry holding her mind hostage. After drying herself with a fluffy towel, she slipped into a butter-soft maroon nightgown, knowing sleep wasn’t going to happen.
Resting on her bed, she examined her bare arms. Both were marked by the death realm now. Her left golden and glimmering, declaring her promise to stand beside Aidan, and the right dark and beautiful with Deathlands flora spilling out of Aidan’s helm, a reminder of her promise to find the talisman in exchange for Aidan’s help. She studied the flora that sprawled out of the helm onto her skin. If Beatriz was gone, she wasn’t sure there was any point in going home even if they did manage to survive this.
She refocused on the golden strands. It had been days since she’d called on her faint connection to the Deathlands and spokenher oath to Aidan into existence. She stared at the strands curiously. They glowed warmly at her attention, and then to her surprise, her consciousness shot along invisible strands that carried out her door and down the halls to the man she hadn’t brought herself to go see yet. Through the strands, his fixation and tension crashed over her, the scratching of his pen echoing loudly in her ear. Her chest grew tight as the incessant, unyieldingneedto find another solution bore down on her.
The scratching paused. There was a soft flicker of inquisitive interest, and then he returned to his work with even more vigor than before, as if the touch of her presence had renewed whatever lagged within him.
Elysia withdrew and slid her feet into slippers.
She stood in front of his office door, fussing with the smooth ties of her black robe. He probably didn’t want to be interrupted. It was late and he was practically possessed by his work.
A soot-stained shadow darted out through the door’s keyhole, twisting the knob so that the door fell open. Invitation clear, she entered his office and leaned against the wall silently. The orange-tinted light of an oil lamp cast over Aidan’s desk, giving her a glimpse of his relentless concentration. Brow furrowed, stress lines apparent even in the dim light, he had a stack of ledgers beside him that looked ready to tip and an uneaten plate of long-cold chicken and potatoes shoved off to the side. A fire carried on in the black stone fireplace, and Elysia drifted over to it, standing with her back to the flames. She’d come here with every intention of interrupting him, forcing him to rest or at the very least take a break, but she waited, soothed by the sight of him at his desk, fighting against every odd with only a pen and a ledger. She hadn’t known that things like steadfastness and responsibility could even be attractive until she’d met him.
It was a fact that he was obsessed. He was obsessed with the infinitesimal chance of them and the life they could have. Yes, he wanted to right his wrongs and save their realms, but he didn’tburn for them. His cobalt gaze caught hers, the flames brightening as if he could hear her thoughts.
He burned forher. And yet, she doubted it again and again.
Her feet drifted closer again until she was gently lifting the pen from his ink-smudged hand. Aidan paused, allowing her to take the pen, both hands flattening on the open ledger.
