“In case I cannot guide your mother to Tarecuori with my caws, I will lead her there with your scent.”
Ah.I don’t waste a minute unwrapping my skirt even though I feel incredibly bare without it, which is ironic seeing as the fabric wasn’t covering all that much to begin with.
“Can I go sit with my son, Mórrgaht?” Justus asks.
“The stones, Rossi.” Iona nods to the center of the table upon which sit two blocks of gray stone which I assumed were the Crow version of a decorative centerpiece.
“Are those . . . ?” My heartbeats jump out of alignment. “Are those the runestones?”
Lore nods, then uses his shadows to glide them toward Justus.
My grandfather stares at the gray rocks as though they were wells filled with electric eels. “You’ve sent a Crow to warn Priya, Ríhbiadh?” At my mate’s nod, he glides his palms over the chunks of rock.
Warn her of what?
That if the wards slackened, she should refrain from murdering her daughter.
That does nothing to calibrate my heartbeats.
I sent someone to Shabbe last night, Fallon.
“Stop!” My voice jerks Justus’s palms off the gray stone.
My father lurches from his seat, sending the heavy wooden thing squealing. “What is it?”
“What if the message hasn’t reached Priya’s ears yet, Dádhi?”
“We’ve stationed Crows around the wards to intercept her ships.”
I chew on the inside of my cheek. I chew so hard I draw blood. “What if they swim to our shores instead of sail?”
This gives everyone pause.
But then Naoise says, “There’s no reason our messenger won’t be granted an audience with the Queen.”
“I want Shabbe freed as much as the rest of you, but can we wait until we recover the Glacin stone so that if Justus succeeds at lifting Meriam’s blood, it will crumble the wards, and a messenger can soar through them and back to confirm?” My voice warbles like my heart. “Please?”
“I agree with Fallon,” Justus says, garnering many a suspect stare.
“Of course you do.” My father glares hard at his former enemy. “You’re in cahoots with Meriam.”
The blue in Justus’s eyes darkens. “I repeat: she’s not evil incarnate, Cathal.”
I touch my father’s wrist, wishing that this wasn’t how he saw Meriam, but I sense convincing him that she’s worth forgiving will take a lot more than my endorsement of her character.
She robbed him of his mate, Fallon,Lore reminds me gently.
She also saved her from decades of torture.
One sadly does not cancel out the other.
“What Icando, Cathal, without endangering Fallon, is attempt to coax the blood to the surface. At least we’ll be set as to whether I’ll have the ability to cleanse the sigil once the stones are reunited.” Justus turns toward Lore, waiting for his approval before proceeding.
The decision is yours, mo khrà.
I’ve chewed into my cheek’s lining with such vigor that the coppery taste of blood fills my mouth. How I wish the wards weren’t soundproof. My teeth release my pierced skin. “Could we make large signs and hold them up to the wards?”
“Signs?” Imogen asks.
