Although silly, our discussion helps quiet my nerves. It does nothing for Connor—whose feathers heave with black smoke—or for Eefah—whose skin keeps losing its solid edges as she attempts to shield the parts of me that Connor and Phoebus don’t shelter.
“Do you know who I am?” Phoebus yells at them.
“A traitor,” a sprite hisses.
Phoebus shoves his blond hair aside to show his ears. “I’m Phoebus Acolti. So let us through before I bat you out of our way with a cypress branch and have you expelled from the army.”
“You’ve got no authority here, pureling.”
“King Dante says”—a sprite pants, flushed cheeks puffing out from his rapid flight—“that Fallon Rossi is not”—another rough breath—“to be harmed. And we are—to give her—safe passage—to wherever she desires to go.”
My pulse hastens with gratitude, but also with relief that a few days in power have not turned my former flame into an unpredictable despot.
“Come home, Fallon. Please.” Eefah sounds on the brink of a meltdown.
I clasp her arm. “I’ve got to find my mother and grandmother first.” I don’t mention which ones. If I’m lucky, I’ll find both sets.
Her dark eyes flash before glazing over like slick marble. “Guhlaèr.”
“Guhlair?” Although Phoebus’s body is still tense, he turns to face us.
“It meansokay.” Eefah’s lids swoop down, whisking off the veneer of her daze. “Lorcan says okay to let you go into Fae land.”
I raise my gaze to the sky, surprised the Crow King is listening since I pictured him otherwise engaged. “It’s not his choice.” I wait for a retort but no words drum between my temples. “Is he near?”
Without meeting my stare, Eefah says, “No.”
Lies have no taste and yet, her breath smacks of deceit.
Without gazing upward, I murmur through the bond:You promised not to follow.
Silence.
If you can hear me, Lore—which I imagine you can—please stay away from Luce. You heard the sprites say they’ve been granted permission to use obsidian. Every Lucin has probably been armed with it.
The air churns as Eefah shifts into her beast.
Before she takes off, I say, “Shehvehafor the ride, and for your kindness.”
She nods her round head before snapping her wings and vanishing skyward, iron talons glinting in the veiled sunlight. Connor follows suit, vanishing after Eefah past the leafy canopy.
Wings beating as briskly as their pulse, the sprites watch them ascend but don’t follow.
“Crafty demons,” one mutters.
I aim a glower his way. “Crows are more civilized than most of the Fae I know.”
Phoebus spears his fingers through mine and tugs me against his side. “Although I’m not opposed to heading back to the Sky Kingdom immediately, I advise you not to engage if you care to see Syb and find Ceres and Agrippina.”
“You won’t be finding the Rossi women,” Gold-buttons proclaims, his words holding my lungs in a vise.
“Why not?” The words come out strangled.
The buttons on his white jacket gleam like Lore’s eyes. “Because they’re gone, Serpent-girl.”
“Gone where?” Phoebus asks, because I’m breathing too chaotically to fashion words.
“Rumor has it they sailed to Shabbe to escape the shame you brought upon your family.”
