Empty. All of it.
The panic morphs into something colder. Something with teeth.
I force myself to stop, to breathe, tothink. Lora took her to lunch. One of her usual places in the market district—but whichone? There are half a dozen cafes she rotates through, and I don't know which she picked today.
Fine. I'll check them all.
I'm back in the air before the thought fully forms, diving low over the market quarter. The first cafe—outdoor seating, flowering vines—is packed with the afternoon crowd. I scan every table, every face, looking for silver-black hair or wine-red fabric.
Not there.
Second cafe. Third. Fourth.
Nothing. No sign of either of them.
My wings ache from the tight turns, the constant acceleration and braking, but I don't slow down. Can't. Every second that passes with the bond silent is another second she could be hurt, could be?—
No. Not going there. She's fine. She has to be fine.
I bank hard toward the residential quarter, toward Lora's house. It's a longer flight but I push harder, faster, until the wind screams past and my flight feathers burn from the strain.
Lora's house comes into view—two stories, painted shutters, a garden out front where Kova likes to dig holes. I don't bother with the front door. Just drop straight into the courtyard and slam through the side entrance.
"Lorenth?" Lora appears in the hallway. Her eyes widen. "What?—"
"Where is she?"
"What?"
"Senna. Where the fuck is she?"
Lora's expression shifts from surprised to concerned. "At your house? We finished lunch over an hour ago. She said she was heading straight back?—"
"She'snot there."
The words come out harsh, sharp enough that Kaelan peeks his head out of his room. I don't care. Can't make myself care about anything except the cold certainty settling in my gut.
Lora turn Kaelan around and shoos him toward the other room. "What do you mean she's not there?"
"I mean I just tore through every room in my house and she's not fucking there, Lora." I drag both hands through my hair, wings mantling with barely contained violence. "The bond went silent. I can't feel her. Can't sense her location. Something'swrong."
"Okay. Okay, let's think about this." She crosses to me, hands raised like she's approaching a spooked zarryn. "Did you check the market? Maybe she stopped somewhere on the way home?—"
"I checked. She's not there."
"Then maybe?—"
The pendant.
The thought cuts through the panic like a blade. The pink crystal Serai gave me, tied to my magic, designed to lead me straight to Senna no matter where she is.
I left it at home. In my study, on the desk where I tossed it after finding her the first time.
I'm moving before Lora can finish her sentence, back through the door and into the air. She calls after me but I'm already gone, wings driving me forward with brutal efficiency.
The flight back to the townhouse takes minutes that feel like hours. Every second the bond stays silent is another second my magic tries to claw its way out of my skin, tries to find her through sheer force of will.
I crash through the study window rather than waste time with the door. Glass shatters around me, cutting shallow lines across my forearms that I barely feel. My magic reacts without thought, healing me and cleaning up the glass.
