Heart walloping my rib cage, I lunge to the window and prop it open, then stick my head through. The little boy, Orian, sits on a bale of hay, whistling as Furia and the other three horses graze the pale stalks he’s scattered around.
My shout or the creak of the window must’ve alerted the child because he glances up. “Everything all right, Miss?”
“Yes,” I lie.
Adrenaline rattles my bones.Lore?
I rush toward my door, tripping on a corner of my towel. It takes me three attempts to unlatch my damn door, and two to pump the handle and get it open. I’m about to lurch toward Dante’s door, but Rosa stands there, eyes wide, arms full.
“I brought you clothes.” Her eyebrows hang low over her eyes. Like her brother, she asks, “Everything all right?”
I lie to her as well, forcing a smile and grabbing the clothes from her arms. And then I shut the door in her guarded face, and dress, forgoing the sodden underwear drying on the side of the bath. The pants are a little tight and a little short, and the shirt a little rough, but I’m too wired to worry whether my pant seams will burst or my nipples will bleed.
Lore?I shout through our bond.
Still no answer. All three of his crows can’t possibly have been staked with obsidian.
Since my socks are dripping water beside my underwear, I stuff my bare feet into the boots and lurch out of my room. My fists come down on Dante’s door. A gruff, “What?” explodes through the wood.
“It’s me.”
A moment later, he pulls open the door, a towel knotted around his trim waist, his brown skin glistening with water. To think that chest was pressed against mine a week ago. Not the time for reminiscing, I chide myself.
“What is it? Why are you dressed? In pants, no less.”
I blink away from his hard body, into his hard eyes. “Lore isn’t answering me.”
A nerve twitches at his left temple. “And I should care, why?”
I rear back. “Because something must’ve happened to him, that’s why you should care.”
Just then, footfalls sound on the stairwell and both Tavo and Gabriele appear, the tops of their heads grazing the low ceiling.
Gaston the sprite weaves between them, chest heaving. “Altezza, Xema Rossi had the dome dug up.” He pants fast and hard. “She knows! She knows and has sent—sprites to warn the king.”
“I told you something was wrong,” I hiss at Dante.
Tavo simpers at me. “Who’s the boy?”
I roll my eyes, really not in the mood for his brand of humor. Not that I’m ever in the mood for it. “Shut up, Tavo.”
The king sails south.
My gaze whirls in time with my heart.Don’t vanish like that!
I’m sorry, Behach Éan. I had to send my crows in different directions, and I cannot speak unless two of me are near each other.
My heart is still beating out of alignment but knowing he’s not a lump of iron makes me feel infinitesimally calmer.Well, next time, send me a vision!Okay, calmer may be a stretch.
Tell them everything I tell you, Fallon. You need to set off tonight. I’ll guide your way. Commander Dargento realized my crow was stolen from the palace and has sent a sprite to inform Marco, who’s already changed course thanks to Xema Rossi’s messengers. He’s sailing back around Tarespagia now and should be on the southern front before daybreak.
My jaw has grown so slack, it takes me precious minutes to relay his words.
“Merda,” Gabriele whispers.
The Acolti maid reported that you and Phoebus visited the safe. Dargento just had your friend picked up.
I raise my palm to my mouth as cold fear swamps my chest and moisture floods my lids.
