“No problem, I can heal that for you,” Dray says, reaching up and massaging my neck with his large hand in such an effectivemanner, it has me moaning and Beaufort’s gaze leaping to the rear-view mirror.
“How long was I out?”
“About seven hours,” Dray tells me.
“And you snored the whole time,” Fly says grumpily, looking not as well rested as I feel.
“And you dribbled a little too,” Dray adds helpfully, pointing to a small wet patch on his shoulder.
“Oh my stars,” I say, covering my face with my hands. “That’s so embarrassing.”
“Nah, you know I love all your juices and all the little wet patches you leave.”
“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” Fly mutters.
“If you’re coming on this trip with us, buddy, you’re gonna have to get used to it, because my girl loves my dirty mouth and I’m here for her pleasure and her pleasure only.”
“Is he always this much?” Fly asks me.
“Always,” Beaufort answers.
“Where’s Blaze?” I ask, shifting round in my seat to search for him out of the back windscreen.
“Right above us!” Thorne says, pointing up to the window in the roof of the vehicle. I peer up and see Blaze high up in the sky, surfing the air currents.
“The poor baby must be exhausted.”
“Baby?!” Dray scoffs. “That dragon is gigantic and a menace.”
“He’s not even nearly full grown,” Beaufort tells him, lifting his left hand from the steering wheel to rub sleep from his eyes.
Dray mutters something under his breath but I’m no longer listening because the view beyond the front windshield has caught my attention. What must be a city rests on the horizon, tall and glistening. It grows in size, sprawling across the earth as we drive through a green and lush manicured landscape.
“What is that?” I gasp, because I’ve never seen anything like it.
“That,” Beaufort tells me, “is the capital of Onyx Quarter where the palace lies.”
We race closer until we reach the outskirts of the capital, tall glittering towers rising up to greet us, the roads and sidewalks smooth and sleek, polished glass and metal shining at us from every angle and elegant trees adorned with leaves and vibrant flowers scattered among the buildings. I lean across Fly and practically press my nose flat against the window, little noises of awe issuing past my lips.
“I had no idea Onyx Quarter was so big. There’s so much stuff,” I murmur, passing glitzy shop after glitzy shop stacked full of goods – shoes and handbags, jewelry and clothes, furniture and decorations. “All this stuff for so few people.”
It’s still early, barely morning really, and the streets of the city are empty. The shops are shut up. There’s no one about to witness the dragon gliding up in the sky, otherwise I think we’d be causing quite a commotion.
“Sweetheart,” Beaufort says, “this is just the capital. The Quarter is much bigger.”
“What? But … aren’t there just a few thousand shadow weavers?”
“Yeah,” Dray says, “and each of those shadow weaver families has their own great house and their own pieces of land. The more powerful, the bigger the house and the more land. Which is why Beau’s mom lives in a palace and owns half the realm.”
“Is she really that powerful?” I ask. The last time I met her I was still a little dazed and bewildered from the trial and distracted by Fox’s absence. I didn’t have the emotional capacity to feel intimidated by her.
“Yes,” he says.
I swallow, trying not to think about how I’m going to convince the Empress of the realm to let me take an army out into the demon wastelands to rescue Fox.
Chapter Twelve
Beaufort
