“Yes.” Deneya nodded, holding Eira’s eyes with hers. “Eira, at my right hand is Rebec. Lorn is at my left. We are the Specters of the Court of Shadows, the overseers, keepers of the keys, lords and ladies of secrets for Meru.”
“You make us sound so fancy when you speak like that.” Lorn raised the back of his hand to his forehead dramatically. “I love it when you talk royal.”
Deneya ignored him. “We’ll be the ones who decide if you live with our secret, or die.”
“I didn’t know I was going to be tested.” Eira glanced between them.
“You don’t think we let just anyone in, do you?” Rebec smiled almost sweetly.
Eira had thought that Deneya’s word would be enough. She’d thought that she and Deneya were on the same page with everything. She’d assumed too much.
“What do I need to do to prove I’m serious?” Eira had survived four trials to get this far. Turned out her fifth was waiting on the Crescent Continent.
“We’ll send you the details of it when we’re ready.” Rebec seemed to enjoy withholding the information a little too much. Eira fortified her mental walls, determined not to let them see anything but cool calm. “Foremost, I want to see this magic of yours that Deneya has told us so much about.” Rebec went to the back of the room, retrieved a box, set it on the table between them, and opened it to reveal an iron disk, reminiscent of what Eira had seen on the first door. “Go ahead, use your listening magic—the echoes Deneya has told us of.”
Eira focused on the disk, visualizing her magic swirling around it. It sank into her ocean, becoming part of her consciousness. The more she practiced listening to objects, the easier it became. Voices came to her, sharp and clear.
If you really hear this, tell Lorn that he needs to wash his socks, the echo of Rebec said. Then, silence.
Eira hummed and shifted her attention from the medallion to Lorn. “Rebec wants you to know you need to wash your socks.”
Lorn shot Rebec a glare. “My socks are fine! How dare—” He stilled, realizing Rebec was staring slack-jawed at Eira. That brought Lorn’s eyes back to her. “It’s true…you really can hear echoes.”
“Yes, and now that’s settled”—Eira motioned to the dagger—“would you like to know what Ferro said?”
“Go ahead,” Deneya said.
Eira focused on the blade, bringing out the voices once more. Ferro’s words were still a searing hot needle between her eyes, uncomfortable to say the least. But it was easier to endure when she was expecting it and the voice didn’t come by surprise. Eira repeated the conversation she heard word for word as it played out in her mind. Like the last time, the voices stopped, whatever Ferro and the man had said clipped short.
“So he really does have a father.” Lorn’s gaze had turned serious. The previously joking man suddenly had a dangerous air about him. The shadows seemed to harden the soft curves of his face. “How did none of us know this? How did he keep up his orphan story?”
“Something to discuss with your seconds.” Rebec gave him a sidelong glance.
“Do you really think he is related to the Pillars?” Lorn ignored Rebec’s accusatory look and turned to Deneya.
“I can’t see any other explanation. There’s clearly been a plot Ferro has long been involved in, and now that Adela is also at play there are few others who have motivation and means like the Pillars.” Deneya tapped her fingers lightly on the table, focusing on the dagger.
“What are the relics?” Eira asked. “He—his father—mentioned collecting the relics. Something about the Ash of Yargen?”
Deneya looked to Lorn and said, “I want you to see if you can find information.”
Her stomach turned to lead. If they had any idea what Ferro was talking about, Deneya wouldn’t be sending Lorn away for more information. Eira had come into the Court of Shadows hoping they had all the answers and she was leaving with nothing but more questions.
“Have there been any leads on Ferro’s whereabouts?” Eira asked.Tell me you at least have information on that much, she wanted to say.
“That’s not for you to know.” Rebec turned her annoyance on Eira.
“How is it not for me to know?” Eira leaned forward, placing her palm on the table. “I’m here to help, aren’t I?”
“So is everyone else.” Rebec rolled her eyes.
“I brought you the dagger and good information with it, didn’t I?”
“Want a medal?” Rebec shrugged. Her careless and cutting nature was beginning to grate Eira in all the wrong places.
“He killed my brother and tried to kill me, too. I deserve to know.”
Rebec’s eyes flicked over Eira’s shoulder to where Ducot was still standing. He’d been as silent as a statue the entire time. Then, the morphi woman leaned forward, resting her hands on the table. The swoop of her long bangs on otherwise short-cropped hair cast dark shadows over her eyes.
