I did not know what that would mean for my power. How many jumps through the void would it take, and how would carrying Lyrena with me affect my power? What would the cost be? I had not yet seen an impact from my magic, nothing like the near comatose sleep that had taken Lyrena after she’d staunched the flames of the burning human village. But such a huge expenditure of power, surely there would be something.
Would I wake to find my memories gone, like Arran?
I remembered to set down the wineglass before it shattered in my hand.
Once, I would have welcomed the loss of every gruesome memory. It would have seemed a brilliant reprieve. But now, losing my memories meant losingthem. My friends. Even if Cyara and Lyrena were currently yowling at each other like skoupuma kittens.
“And leave the King behind? I am also his Goldstone guard.” Lyrena’s usual grin was nowhere in evidence on her face. Was I imagining it, or was the tip of her golden tooth slightly pointed?
Cyara shrugged with contrived irreverence. “You haven’t been doing much guarding down in the kitchens.”
Lyrena had a reputation for carousing in the kitchens and guard barracks in Baylaur as well. But I did not realize she’d made friends here at Eilean Gayl… Unsurprising. She was the easiest person to love.
I shook my head, bringing my hand down flat on the table with more force than I’d intended—startling them into silence. “What is happening here? Are you two arguing? With each other?”
“Yes,” they said in unison.
“Why—what in the Ancestor’s frigid hell is happening?” I rubbed my temples. “Usually you are too busy arguing with me to squabble with one another.”
Lyrena grinned, and it was more than a little predatory. I felt a rush of heat, suspected that if I looked down I’d find flames curling around her fingertips.
Which reminded me of another. “Where is Isolde in all of this?”
“Avoiding terrestrials who want to touch her skin and examine her claws,” Lyrena smirked. “She is keeping an eye on Arran,” she added, golden brows lifting in time with her lips in a smug smile aimed directly at Cyara.
Cyara would not do anything as indelicate as roll her eyes, so I did it for her.
Which gave her the opportunity to ask, “What about Arran?”
Across the room, the sound of cutlery scraping against plates ceased. Everyone was listening now, even our prisoners. I sucked in my cheeks, teeth catching on the soft flesh inside my lower lip. When the tangy taste of my own blood met my tongue, I spoke. “We move on without Arran.”
Cyara’s wings flared above her shoulders. “He is the High King of Annwyn.”
“He’s the next thing to an invalid.” It was cruel, but it was the truth. “We can’t trust him.”
Lyrena reached for me next. Actually reached for me, her hand closing over my arm. “Veyka—”
“He does not trust me.”
Arran could not be told what to do. As much as I wanted to throw myself into his arms and beg him to love me, to trust me and believe me andremember me, it would mean nothing. Not to the Brutal Prince. The male who had emerged from Avalon was not the mate I’d left behind.
“Arran has to figure out where he stands in all of this. We cannot do it for him. I’ve explained the threat of the succubus.” I caught Cyara’s eyes cutting to Diana and Percival. She was too good at hiding her thoughts and feelings for the motion to have been anything but intentionally meant for me. I ignored it. “Until Arran remembers… or he decides… this discussion stays between us.”
“We await word from Gwen. But in the meantime, we need to get to the amorite mines. Until we know how much there is, we cannot decide what purpose to put it to.” I heard Arran’s voice in my mind. He wanted to make weapons. I wanted to protect as many individuals as possible. The argument was immaterial until we had quantities.
I could almost understand it, the deep place of calculation where Arran went when assessing a battle. That was exactly what this was—a race against time. Before the succubus came in numbers we would have no hope of beating back. Pretending it was nothing more than numbers, than movements in a dance, might make it easier to bear. But if the shattered wall of ice around my heart had taught me anything, it was that now that I’d released the cage on my heart and its capacity to love and care, there was no closing that door ever again.
46
CYARA
“What are you doing?”
Cyara managed not to flinch at the clear shock and reprimand in Veyka’s sharp voice. She had been expecting it and had prepared herself accordingly. Not even a flutter of wings to betray her nerves.
The queen did not usually make her nervous. But she understood the enormity of what she was about to ask. There was every chance that Veyka was going to react horribly. To be anything other than nervous would be foolish.
Willing her wings not to twitch, she finished unlatching Percival and Diana’s restraints and stepped aside to let them approach the table. “They are taking the trays down to the kitchens, where they will assist with the dishes.”
