Daziel came to stand behind me. “I expect the invitation is not optional?”
The man smiled thinly, the kind of smile bureaucrats everywhere seemed to have perfected, where it never reached the eyes. “They await your earliest convenience.”
“You can’t bang on our door at—” I glanced at the clock and realized it was past eleven. “You can’t just whisk him away,” I finished angrily. “On what grounds?”
No one answered me. I tried to slam my door, but one of the gendarme said something, and I realized they’d written a spell on my door to keep it open.
My heart rate increased as helplessness slid through me. “This has to be illegal. Don’t you need a warrant to mess with private property?”
“This is Lyceum property,” the civil servant said smoothly, glancing at Madame Hadar. “The Lyceum is kindly cooperating.”
Scowling, I turned to Daziel. “You don’t have to go with them. We’ll refuse to leave. Go to my aunt.” I lowered my voice. “Or can’t you—?”Vanish.
Daziel placed a hand on my arm. He was so much calmer than I was, his gaze steady, his shoulders back. I could see Paz, though, tucked under Daziel’s collar, his little face tight. “It will be fine.”
It would not be fine. If they were here for Daziel, it was because of last night. In which case, they should also take me. I’d also been involved in the binding. I grabbed my coat and stuffed my feet into my shoes, laces undone. “I’m coming with you.”
“I’m sorry, miss,” the civil servant said. “They would like to speak with him alone.”
“That’s ridiculous,” I said. “Are youarrestinghim? He’s aminor.”
“I’m sorry,” the man said again.
“It’s all right.” Daziel squeezed my hand, letting go as he stepped out of the room. His nightclothes had shifted into formal black, the lines severe and crisp. “I’ll see you soon.”
My breath came hard and fast, and panic welled in my throat. “I’m coming with you!”
Two of the gendarme stepped in my path, blocking the door of my apartment. I gaped at them, gaped at Daziel on the other side, who simply gave me an inscrutable nod before turning to go. “Daziel!” I cried. I turned to the two men before me, who stared above me as though I was invisible. “Are you trapping me in here? Madame Hadar!”
“It’s just for a moment, so there won’t be any trouble,” she said, her voice quivering. “Everything will be fine.”
I glared at her and at the others. Then I slammed my door as fiercely as possible and collapsed on my couch, shaking. I pulled my knees to my chest, resting my chin upon them and trying not to cry. Outside, the sky was a flat, cool gray, only a few plumes of smoke in the distance adding any texture.
It was Sunday morning. Last night had been so wonderful and terrible—the realization of the word “Ziz,” the party and disaster at the Rocks, kissing Daziel. Today, my cohort would be at the Keep. We had a potential key now. We might be able to decipher everything. They’d probably be expecting me.
Instead, trembling, I packed an overnight bag. And as soon as the gendarme were gone, I set out for my aunt’s.
Eighteen
“They took Daziel,” I toldAunt Tirtzah. We were in her bedroom, where I’d been escorted by her assistant, Chava. It was an alarmingly elegant chamber, a silk rug on the polished wood floor, a massive bed, a high ceiling painted with florals. The room was bigger than my entire apartment.
My aunt sat at her vanity, wrapped in a white cotton robe, her hair still wet from showering. I paced behind her. “He didn’tdoanything, and the gendarme took him away.”
Aunt Tirtzah’s reflection lifted her brows. “Didn’t do anything? The demon who froze the entire river?”
“He didn’t freeze it. He calmed it. And there’s nothing wrong about that.” Except for the binding we’d performed.
“Technically, there is.” Aunt Tirtzah turned from her mirror so she could level the full force of her gaze at me. “High shedim are bound by the treaty to give notice of their location if they stay in Talum for more than twenty-four hours.”
Unease brewed in my stomach, clawing its way through my body. I pushed it down. “Daziel’s a wild shayd, not high.”
My aunt snorted. “Naomi, a wild shayd couldn’t have cast that spell. Which means he lied and is a high shayd, a member of their court. He’s concealed a shocking amount of power. Which makes him unpredictable. And unpredictable can mean dangerous.”
But Daziel wasn’t high. He’d been able to cast the spell becauseI’dcast it when we were bound together. Would telling her about the binding put Daziel in more or less danger? Would it break the treaty? I trusted my aunt, but I didn’t know if she would keep this a secret. I decided to hold my ground. “He has all the markings of a wild shayd.”
“A high shayd is more than capable of altering their appearance,” she said impatiently. “That’s why they present to us as humans. They could easily also look like wild shedim.”
I needed a different angle. “Fine. But even if heisa high shayd, he shouldn’t have been arrested. People could be dead if he hadn’t done something.”
