Justus studies the hand clamped around my bicep. “Meriam will need to see her alone.”
“Out of the question, Rossi.”
“If she unbinds Fallon’s magic while you’re touching her, she risks endangering you, Maezza.”
“Fine. I will not touch her, but where Fallon goes, I go. You may trust the witch, Justus, but I don’t.”
A nerve feathers Justus’s jaw. “Very well.” Justus nods to the slender passage he’s coaxed into existence with his magic and gestures for me to enter. “Your magic awaits, Fallon.”
I barely register his words, much too transfixed by the sight of two inked circles on his palm. Lucins don’t do tattoos but the General of the Lucin army does? Also, why have I never noticed it before? Sure, his hand is forever fastened to the pommel of his sword, and sure, I’ve met him only twice, but still . . . those circles are so large and dark, one would need to be blind to miss them.
Dante’s grip slackens on my arm before falling away completely. “Let’s go.”
My heart batters my ribs as I stand stock-still.
“Now, Fallon. While the moon is still full.”
I swallow a great many times, my eardrums buzzing with my revving pulse. Mixed into my dread is a dash of excitement.
I’m about to possess magic. And from the accounts I’ve heard, incredible magic.
My fingers tremble and prickle as though my blood is ready to burst from my flesh. I roll them into my palms, my stomach seesawing as I take the first step toward the woman who will forever change my life.
For the better, I decide, because apparently, I haven’t become a complete pessimist. I may not be able to use my magic against Dante because of Meriam’s ancient spell, but I will be able to use it against the rest of the world.
I glance up at Justus as I approach. Though the planes of his face are taut, the corners of his mouth keep dipping, and his throat, bobbing. Could the great Lucin general be nervous? I want to think that he is, that he senses that my second order of business will be to kill him. Unless he, too, made himself Shabbin-proof?
I wouldn’t put it past the plotting male, who’s a most cunning man—a phoenix risen from a watery grave. No, a phoenix is too grand for the brute who mutilated his own daughter. Justus Rossi is a plague, an infectious disease that rots everything he touches.
My eyes are drawn back to his palm, and I suddenly wonder if the two interlocked rings of ink could be some sort of Shabbin sigil—a shield of sorts. If I were Justus, I would’ve stocked up on magical shields, what with being in the company of a very vengeful woman about to have power at her fingertips.
Six
When I reach the opening of the vault, I stop. Yes, Dante insisted on entering the giant safe with me, but what if it’s a trap? What if Meriam doesn’t plan on unbinding my powers? What if she plans on killing me? After all, with my mother gone, I’m the only Shabbin left in Luce. The only person with the ability to awaken the Crows.
I squint into the obscurity, spotting the gleam of eyes. I back up a step, smacking into a large body. I twist my neck to find Dante looming over me, gaze riveted on the sight beyond me.
“I—I . . .” I lick my lips. “I don’t like tight spaces.” I try to back up, but Dante blocks my backpedaling.
“The vault is tremendously roomy, I assure you.” Justus sounds as though he’s speaking from the other end of the tunnel we’ve just traveled. “My mother has been stockpiling her riches from a very young age and separates from nothing, neither for profit nor for charity.”
My attention leaps to Justus, who’s staring into the rectangular room, and I freeze for a whole other reason now. “Your mother?”
“Xema Rossi.”
Xema Rossi lives in Tarespagia, which means—
Which means—
Oh. My. Gods! Eponine didn’t mislead me. Lore was wrong. She didn’t lie!
My epiphany is so momentous that it ratchets up my pulse. The general’s gaze travels back to my face. Settles. Does he see that I just connected the dots thanks to his slip-up? Does he care?
“Why can’t we meet out here?” I gesture around what appears to be a dungeon.
“Because my wife sits inside and cannot come to you.”
His wife. . . My pulse stutters at the title. In truth, Justus and Meriam are incredibly well-suited for one another, both of them crafty and ill-intentioned. “How in the world did you get her to marry you?”
