Then I find Palacia, sitting where I left her in her bedchamber. She looks at me with huge eyes unblinking, unnerving. “Master Lukain came, Mistress.”
My jaw flexes, teeth grinding together. “He did? Why?”
Palacia shrugs. She lifts her legs from where they dangle over the edge of the bed, pulling her knees up to her chest. She looks even smaller when she does that—truly miniature. “Lord Ashfen fought him. I was transported outside to the acolyte tent after Lord Ashfen told me to run from Lukain. I didn’t imagine my master would want to hurt me, but I think I was wrong.”
I put a hand on her head, gently rubbing, and smile at her. “How anyone could ever want to hurt you, I’ll never know, Pala.”
“Even as a vampire, Mistress? Even when I ache for blood on a constant basis? I don’t know if I can do this forever. Forever is alongtime.”
I croak a laugh. I’m not feeling very mirthful, but leave it to her to force something out of me. “We’ll figure it out together, love. Now, where is Lord Ashfen? He has a debriefing to report.”
“In his study, where he fought Master Lukain.”
With that, I leave the girl alone to her woeful thoughts. I can only hope things get easier and better for her as time goes on. She’s shown no interest in joining the Chained Sisters like Sister Cyprilis did. And it might be for the best, considering the madwoman Cyprilis has turned into.
Skartovius Ashfen waits in his study, hunched over his chair and writing on a page. His head lifts and he rises to his feet.
Skar closes the gap in an instant, the heat of him rushing to greet me as his body collides into mine. His arms wrap around my neck, pulling me close, tucking my head against his shoulders.
I let out a small sob, feeling all the pent-up frustration and anger of the evening boiling over as he holds me. “We lost her, Skar. Alacine took my mother.”
“I know, love. Garroway told me.”
I pull back, sniffling, and wipe my snotty nose with my forearm. “Palacia says Lukain came here. I’ve seen all the bodies. What in the Damned happened while we were gone, Skar?”
I feel quite guilty now about Skartovius not showing up to the Firehold like he’d promised. It seems extenuating circumstances kept him back.
“It was a two-pronged attack. While Alacine’s group attacked the Firehold, Lukain hoped you would be left behind here, so he could easily snatch you up. Instead, he found me. Unfortunately for him.”
“Did . . .” I gulp past my tightening throat.
“No, little temptress.” His voice is gentle as he caresses a soft thumb across my chin. “I didn’t kill the dhampir. In fact, I left him with some literature.”
Lines form above my brow. “What?”
He chuckles, sitting on his chair, and pats his knee.
I sit on his lap and he pulls me against him. “Don’t bother yourself with that right now, love. I heard you fought Alacine Mortis and lived to tell the tale.”
“She has your power, Skar. The woman is a frightful menace, flipping between shadows like a ghost. She killed Old Endolf before stealing my mother away into one of the shadows.”
“The alchemist? Does that mean we have no means of concocting the silverblood tincture you so badly want?”
My shoulders rise. “I don’t know. Unless my mother has retained some of the knowledge. And that’s assuming Alacine keeps her alive.”
“Right.” His lips firm.
“I want to go into the Intelligence Ward to retrieve Jinneth, Skar.”
“I know, love—”
“But I also know that’s what Alacine is expecting me to do. I can’t keep running into her traps. I understand that now. I’ll only end up in Sutlis Spire again, I fear, or worse.”
His lip curls. “You’re learning our duplicitous ways, Sephania. I know it isn’t easy. We will get your mother back. I assure you.”
“How? How can you promise that?”
“Give it a little time. Lukain coming here was not for naught. I . . . can’t speak anymore on it. I prefer him to tell his story when he’s ready.”
