“Yes. They know I’m here.”
It takes her a moment to reconfigure her expression from one of shock to one of cheerfulness. “When did you arrive?”
“Not long ago.”
She nods, disquiet nipping at the tentative smile she’s conjured.
A rough intake of air has me twisting around. The horror that strikes my grandfather’s features coaxes a smirk to my lips.
“Evening, Jaytair,” I chirp.
Where my grandmother seemed startled, my grandfather looks about ready to morph into his Crow, snatch me with his iron talons, and haul me back to Luce.
“Isla,” he grits out. “You…came?”
“Surprise.”
“Is your father”—his molars grind—“aware of this?”
“I was just with them.”
“And Lore’s…” Jaytair’s jaw somehow sharpens further beneath the thick covering of bristly black hair.
“…stoked I managed to swing by?” I supply. “Absolutely.”
My grandfather’s gaze swings in the direction of my parents’ bedchamber. And then he’s stalking toward it.
Taytah drapes an arm around my shoulders. “He’s been in a mood since we arrived.” In the crook of my ear, she murmurs, “Too many busybody sprites and Faeries around for his liking.”
I grin, knowing full well how passionate my grandfather can be about his space and his dislike of Faeries. I heard he despises Pointy-ears more than Antoni Greco, which is saying something, seeing as hereallydislikes the male Taytah turned into a Serpent after theMahananda Yudh.
I inhale the honeysuckle and brine aroma that forever clings to her skin, a scent that brings me back to the sundrenched summers spent in Shabbe running—and swimming—amok with Naeva, Lachlano, and Elio. I love that scent as deeply as I love every member of my family.
As my grandfather pounds on my parents’ door, his brown gaze flicking feverishly between it and us, my thoughts drift to Konstantin. If his love for his family is anything like mine, then I’ve no doubt he spared his sister, for I could never kill Naeva, not even if she betrayed me or my people.
A tiny voice inside my head murmurs:What if she gored your father with obsidian and held him hostage in a cage?
I blink to dispel the image, then unbind myself from my grandmother’s embrace to seek out my cousin, whose heart is far too tender for malice.
The sunlight filtering through the snowstorm is so faint that the fire orbs acquire brightness, gilding the Faerie guards stationed along the pilasters.
Did Konstantin inflate their numbers because of the recent unrest, or does he always employ so many? I suppose, had Crows been murderable, Dádhi may have increased security around our castle as well.
I stop walking when I come face to painted-face with a white-haired Faerie, whose resemblance to Konstantin is remarkable. While I would describe the brother’s face as lethal, the more fitting descriptor for Alyona’s is delicate. She’s all porcelain skin and fine bones, with hair as long and white as Konstantin’s and eyes the same shade of gray.
Do you live, Alyona of Glace?And if you do, why does the Cauldron seemekilling you?
Before I can make sense of any of it, a hand snatches my wrist and hauls me forward, startling a soft gasp from my lungs.
6
ISLA
“Are you trying to get caught? Our parents’ rooms are right there,” Naeva hisses as she tows me into her suite and kicks the door shut.
“Been there. Got caught.” I sigh. “Dropped through the wrong skylight.”
Her thick lashes surge so high, they almost reach the retracted tusk on her forehead. Had her eyes been pink instead of full-black, and her hair, auburn instead of violet, she’d have been indistinguishable from my mother.
