“I’ve…I’ve never seen anything like it. I can’t sleep without seeing the eerie way they moved. They threw a knife at her. Threw it so hard that her head almost came clean off. It just hung to the side like it would fall away completely at any second,” he exclaims, his eyes filling with panic as though he’s still hiding in the barn, watching it happen right in front of his face.
“Who did?” Skull asks, but his tone isn’t very hopeful that we’ll get anything useful out of the hysteria that’s quickly building in the cobbler.
“Her body kept running,” he wails, tears spilling down his cheeks as he clutches his hands in front of him as though he’s pleading with us to believe him. “It was awful, her body didn’t know that her head wasn’t where it was supposed to be; it kept running, and then she crashed to the ground, and they laughed. They laughed like it was the funniest thing. I can’t stop seeing it and hearing their evil laugh!”
Hatus presses his hands to his mouth as though his palms will hide the terror-stricken whimpers he’s now making.
“Then I heard another scream somewhere deep in the house,” he whispers after a moment, and he wipes furiously at the tears spilling down his cheeks. “That’s when I knew what they were doing. That there had to be more than the three I saw. There had to be. Because they were killing them….all of them.”
“Who was?” Skull demands again.
“The ghosts!” Hatus repeats with more frustration in his tone this time.
“How did you get away from theseghosts?” Myrka practically sneers, and Hatus’s pale face pales even more.
He looks around the room, assessing the rest of us as though he’s searching for anyone who’s buying this story. He takes another deep shuddering breath and tries to calm himself.
Mayden looks over at me, just as pissed as I feel about this waste of time. The Vulpi dedicated valuable resources to retrieving this fae. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s seconds away from slitting him navel to neck. She’d be doing the addled fool a favor at this point.
“I was going to get Fet, get us both away as quickly as possible, but when I snuck out to try to get to his cottage, I saw the door was already open. They had… I was too late.” A sob snakes out of his mouth, and he works hard not to let another slip by as he wipes his nose and ruddy cheeks on his sleeve.
Scorpius cringes, his gaze filling with disgust at the unsanitary gesture.
“I grabbed a mare and I ran. I didn’t go toward the front gate. Not after…what I saw, so I angled the mare to the trees behind the stables. Lord Daeral loved to hunt, and he owned a lot of forest as part of his property. There was only a small fence that the mare could jump over, and we got away.”
“Where had the lord and his house been?” Telson asks, pulling Hatus’s focus back to her.
She must be getting just as impatient as the rest of us are to get this over with and go. Hatus stares up at her, hopeful but confused by her question.
“You said that the lord and his house had just come back from traveling. That the house was chaotic. Where did they go?” she reminds him.
“Right,” Hatus chirps, his brow furrowing as he seems to search his memories for an answer to that question. “The Sagor Coast. It’s in the Night Court, I think.”
Fucking Night Court, I grumble internally. King Korven has been next to useless since the queen died. All kinds of fucked-up things seem to grow roots there before they spill over into the other realms. We haven’t crossed the Winter Court’s borders since the Elix overpaid us for Dorsin and her apprentice. I for one would be happy to keep it that way for another dozen years. It’s no surprise that trouble followed Lord Daeral home from that lawless realm.
Scorpius moves toward the door with an irritated shake of his head. “You owe us, Vulpi. This was fucking useless,” he calls over his shoulder, and I push off the wall to follow him.
“Wait, no!” Hatus yelps, falling out of his chair and onto his knees. “I told you everything that happened! That’s everything that happened!” he shouts at Scorpius’s back. “Please, they can’t find me! I don’t want to die!” he begs.
“For the last time, cobbler, who the fuck isthey?” Scorpius bellows as he whirls around, his face a mask of fury and his shout dripping with impatience.
“The ghosts! The fucking ghosts! There were three of them. They moved like the wind itself. They threw a knife so hard it almost took the girl’s head off. They had white hair. Gray eyes. Skin and armor the color of fresh snow. I’m telling you the truth, please believe me! They were ghosts! I don’t know how to hide from ghosts. I don’t want to die!”
Every Scorpion in the room freezes at Hatus’s shouted and frantic description. Telson’s face snaps in his direction so fast I hear the bones in her neck pop. The Vulpi go still at our obvious reaction, their eyes searching our faces for a clue as to why we’re all now staring at Hatus—who’s sobbing into his hands on the ground—like he’s no longer shit we just found on our boots.
That’s when I hear it. A soft, barely there sound on the roof. It’s a gentle scraping, something I probably wouldn’t have caught if the room hadn’t just plunged into astonished silence at the perfect time. Or maybe it’s the days I spent as a cria, scared and alone in the woods, listening for anyone or anything that might be sneaking up on me, that made me so sensitive. Either way, I hear the careful quiet steps above us like they’re loud stomps through the room.
Someone is up there, and they’ve been listening to everything we’ve said.
ChapterForty-Nine
AUSET
My heart plummets as Hatus’s words dislodge it from my chest and send it careening to my feet. I swear the shocked organ rolls across the floor as I reel and try to think through what the fuck he just said.
They had white hair, gray eyes, and skin the color of snow.
Hatus’s voice repeats over and over in my mind. Does he know? Can he somehow see what’s hidden beneath my glamour? I stare down at the pathetic, trembling heap, suspicion and shock spiraling through me. All I can see is my own unusually light-colored hair, my silver eyes, and skin that was once pale before the Corozean desert and the searing sun burned it enough times that it tanned to adapt.
