I shake my head and shiver against a cool breeze, confused. “So where is he now?”
Both of her brows rise. “He left. On foot. I saw it from my window, so I thought I’d come find you. Then I passed Rhonin’s room.” She lowers her eyes for a moment and pinches the tips of her fingers together. “His door was cracked, and I might’ve peaked. He was maybe a little naked, and very nice clothes and a new double dagger harness lay on his bed next to his weapons. He was clearly distracted enough that he didn’t notice me. I feel like something’s up.”
Trying to think more optimistically, I reach for Alexus through the rune, sending a gentle inquiry along the bond, but…
His end of the bond is closed to me. Again.
An uneasy feeling climbs up my spine like phantom fingers. I hurry upstairs and grab my scrying dish, the decanter of water I keep in the room, and my needle. If Rhonin and the Witch Collector are placing themselves in harm’s way for the second time today, I will know.
Alexus might close me out of the bond.
But he cannot stop a Seer.
Unfortunately, the waters turn up little more than Alexus walking into the city like a handsome devil, shrouded in the night’s shadows, an unsettling air about him. Hel and I settle for a different route to gather information.
We catch Rhonin just in time, at the top of the stairs, and shove him back into his room. It takes both of us and all our might to make him budge.
“It’s nothing,” he says, holding his hands up in a defensive manner. “Nothing special. Just business.”
I lean against the desk and give him a narrowed look, wanting answers. “You just so happened to decide to go out at this hour for no reason? Armed in fine clothes and daggers?”
Rhonin is still learning my language, so Hel translates, blocking the door. “Maybe he has plans with Mari.”
The air tightens when Rhonin turns that cerulean gaze on her. “Can I ask why you’re so worried about Mari? I’ve known her for a matter of days.”
Hel draws her shoulders back, wearing a mask of indifference, trying so hard to hide her jealousy. She gestures at me. “A lot can happen in a matter of days, Rhonin. Where’ve you been?”
He faces her, smoothing his hand over his finely embroidered vest. “Me? Where’ve you been? Finn was here for all of a few hours, and Mari looked at him like he was a god that fell from the sky. He’s all she talked about tonight when I helped her in the kitchen. She’s been taking him food and clothes and gods’ know what else they’ve done. She’s really nice, but trust me, even if she did have eyes for me, these clothes would not be for her.” He shifts his jacket from massive hand to massive hand and moves closer to Hel, a giant of a man, even compared to her tall form. To both our surprise, he tips her chin up with his finger. “Do you like it? That’s all I care about.”
Hel’s throat moves with a hard swallow as she holds his stare. “Very much. You look quite… regal.”
“Regal is good.” A tiny smirk curl’s Rhonin’s lips. “Does it earn me that kiss you talked about?”
I expect Hel to grab his vest and yank him near for a hard, deep tongue lashing. That’s just something Hel would do. Instead…
“Tell us where you’re going, and you just might get your wish, Spy.”
Rhonin shakes his head, and a soft glint of disappointment shines in his eyes. “One day I’m going to kiss you, Helena Majesta Owyn. Obviously not today. But I will, and when I do, you’ll kiss me back. Because you want to, not because of a bargain.” He folds a single arm around her waist, picks her up, and moves her, clearing the path to the door, which he opens. Paused at the threshold, he points at both of us and says, “Don’t get any ideas about following me. Either of you. I mean it. You’re better off here. Remember that.”
The moment he’s gone, Hel and I share a glance. “We can’t go through the cove,” she says. “Nephele, Zahira, and Yaz are down there having wine. Can you get us through the wards?”
I think of Callan’s lesson when we entered Starworth Tor’s gate. “I can try.”
We head to the room she shares with my sister. “Should we tell her?” I sign. It feels strange leaving Nephele out.
Hel lifts a single brow. “Not unless you want her to stop us, because she will.” When I shake my head, Hel stalks toward the wardrobe filled with the clothes we bought yesterday. “That’s what I thought,” she says and opens the doors wide. “We need to hurry. You wear the gray dress. I’ll wear the black one.”
Thankfully, Callan isn’t watching the gate.
Though it takes a few tries, I manage to dismantle the spell from the inside by unlocking the runes for protective passage. It’s like a puzzle, the proper placement of pieces, and the practice I’ve had with the prince’s barrier helps. Unfortunately, once we’re outside the gate, Hel tracks two sets of wagon marks in the gravel and sand, one set that belonged to Dedrick Terrowin. The other had to be Rhonin.
We start toward the city anyway, hoping to see other people dressed in finery, headed to the same place so we can follow. Our weapons are concealed beneath our taffeta dresses, our glamours up. My dagger and sheath feel unusually rough against my thigh, the leather chafing. The healing properties of the thermal pool and long baths softened my skin and healed the sore places where my weapon stayed for most of the last several weeks. But I walk on, hoping to acclimate to the feel again.
We don’t make it far, though.
Finn jogs around a bend, up the cobbled street toward Starworth Tor’s gate, right where it curves away from the city wall and toward the many houses between here and Village Hill. He slows when he sees us, the confused expression on his sweat-dampened face clear under the moonlight as he approaches.
He looks us up and down as he catches his breath. “Where are you two headed? Without escorts, at that? Where’s the Collector? Rhonin?”
