He stared down at her, incredulous. “Ravenna, before I met you, I didn’t believe I had a heart.”
Oh.
This only made her cry harder, and Saturnino shook her slightly, a silent reminder to instruct him. “Just hold me,” she managed.
“That doesn’t seem like enough.”
“Trust me, it is.”
Saturnino wiped her cheeks, the corners of her eyes, her chin, with his cold hands. “Can you tell me what happened? From the beginning.”
Ravenna nodded as he continued to dry her tears. A fruitless task; she couldn’t seem to stop crying. “I came down here to work on the stones.” She pointed to the fallen Nightflame. “That one is for you.”
At this, Saturnino sucked in a breath.
“I made my choice,” Ravenna whispered.
“What choice?”
“You,” she said. “I chose you.”
Saturnino shut his eyes, as if the sight of her was too much for him. His body shuddered. He opened his eyes; they were clear but blue-rimmed. “And then?” he asked hoarsely.
“That’s when Pietro—” Her eyes flickered uneasily to his body.
“Don’t look at him,” he said again.
Ravenna wrenched her gaze back to Saturnino. “That’s when they attacked me. I was able to knock Pietro unconscious, but then Imelda…” She shuddered. “You know what happened after that.”
Saturnino’s gaze spanned the length of the room, flickering from the Nightflame to Pietro, the total mess left behind from their fightwith Ravenna. He nodded to himself, and Ravenna realized he was checking her words with what proof lay before him.
He finished his assessment of the situation and nodded again, coming to some sort of a decision.
“You can’t stay here,” Saturnino said quietly.
She blinked. That was thelastthing she expected him to say. Her thoughts scrambled. “I don’t understand.”
“It’s becoming harder and harder to keep you safe.” He gestured toward Pietro. “This will make it impossible. The others—”
“I won’t leave you,” she said.
“Ravenna,” he said gently. “You’re not listening to me. The longer you stay here, the more likely one of them will kill you.”
“Then come with me,” Ravenna said. “Leave them.”
“I can’t,” Saturnino said. “The best way to protect you is to remain at the palazzo.”
“There has to be some way—”
“Ravenna,” he said again, this time more firmly. “We’re wasting time. Take the path past the grotto, it will lead up to a side street.” He gave her a small, tender smile. “But you probably already know that.”
She did.
“Don’t ask this of me,” she whispered. “I can’t do it.”
“You will. You are.” He took her hand and together they crossed the room. He opened the door and tugged her after him. Ravenna glanced over her shoulder, her gaze landing on the Nightflame. She pulled herself free, went and picked up the gemstone, then carefully wrapped it in a cloth she found neatly folded on the workbench. She tied the ends, making sure it was tight enough.
Saturnino didn’t have anyone who could cast the spell. All he had was the Nightflame, essentially useless without a witch to perform the necessary enchantment.
