“Can you please,” Killian began in a breathy voice, sounding as if each word was chosen very carefully, “share whatever information you have about this game, including its location, time, and anything else I might need to know.”
Elyse released a huff. The fun had quickly faded. No longer willing to speak to the haughty former lieutenant, she slipped a tiny card from her pocket and slapped it on the table before Killian. As she took another swig from her glass, she watched him from the corner of her eyes. He plucked the card off the table and studied it—both sides. His golden eyes matched the scrawling font on the card.
He read the address on the card to himself. “So the game is in Sevhella?”
Elyse downed the last of her drink and slammed the glass on the table—hard enough to make Sera jump. “The door is in Sevhella. The game, as I said, is in an unknown location. Somewhere secret and warded, so that no one can cheat.”
Killian’s eyes dropped to the card again. “So we’ll use a portal?”
“No,” Elyse and Sera said in unison.
“Portals are huge and chaotic,” Sera explained. “They take a ton of magic. Portals travel between worlds, not two places on a map.”
“Worlds?” Manny sputtered, his eyes leaving his target for a split second. “Shit,” he mumbled before returning his attention to his task.
“Precisely,” Elyse said, though she hadn’t realized Sera cared to know anything about portals. “This,” she went on, tapping on the card with her finger, “is derived from the same magic used in the transportation potion.”
Killian nodded his head absentmindedly, his jaw making minuscule movements as he pondered. “So no magic whatsoever?” he asked.
“Not unless it’s something meant to keep a player alive or healthy,” Elyse answered. As Killian parted his lips to ask something else, Elyse beat him to it. She was tiring of his questions. “Like Mr. Grayson. He uses magic to prolong his life. That’s the only sort of spell that won’t be nullified during the game.”
Killian went still. His eyes had darkened, and he shifted uncomfortably. Elyse made a mental note never to bring up Mr.Grayson again, not unless she wanted to see Killian look like a sad, wet puppy dog.
“Yes!” Manny hissed under his breath. He beamed at Sera. “I did it.”
“And just in time for dinner, too,” Sera said in that disturbingly sweet voice, right as a pair of waitresses set their plates before them.
Elyse asked for another drink, then began scarfing down her food. The sooner she finished her meal, the sooner she could get away from these hooligans.
“We’ll head back to Domistad tomorrow. Let Elyse do what she can for the farmers,” Killian said as he took a bite of bread.
“Where should we go after that?” Sera asked.
Elyse tuned them out as they debated their next move. Whatever they decided would be a waste anyway. As she carved into her meat, she imagined carving into Lazarus’s skin with the Blade of Hanael. She was shoveling the last of her dinner in her mouth when Sera asked, “What do you think, Elyse?”
Elyse’s eyes shot to Sera, her mouth still full of meat. “I don’t give a witch’s tit.”
Even Manny seemed too caught off guard to snicker at that. The trio stared at her, but Elyse stared right back, pouring disdain into her expression. Killian flexed his jaw before saying, “We need your help, Elyse.”
She pushed her empty plate away, preparing to rise. “You might need me, but I sure as hell don’t need you.”
Killian was about to protest when a loud crash behind him interrupted all thoughts. In an instant, he and Elyse were both on their feet, trying to suss out the danger.
The redheaded man lay sprawled on the floor, his boots connected by a firm knot. “I don’t know what happened,” he sputtered as the waitress flocked to check on him.
Manny’s face was pure scarlet as he tried to hold in his laughter, while Sera hid her smile behind her napkin. Even Killian bit his lip to contain his amusement.
“Acceptable,” Elyse offered to Manny as she turned from the table.
As she strode away, she could feel Killian’s eyes on her back. But she didn’t turn, didn’t slow. She simply kept walking toward the stairs that led to sweet privacy.
11
Killian
The sounds of Sevhella grated on Killian. The cobblestone clamored with boots, hooves, and wooden wheels, crashing with the merchants’ croons and the jostle of coin as money changed hands. Women gossiped at every corner, their voices a paradox of whispers and shrill caterwauls. Every noise seemed to be intensified by the heat, and especially by Killian’s foul mood.
He’d spent the last few days with Manny, Sera, and Elyse, retracing their steps and undoing as much of Lazarus’s evil as they could. Or rather, as Elyse could.
