No, stop it!Nothing was going to happen to him. She clutched the dagger to her chest, listening to the silence…
A creak echoed, and her eyelids flew open.
Ash blinked away the fog of sleep, every nerve strung taut. Another scrape, and she jackknifed upright, her heart slamming, her gaze fixed on the door. Had Race locked it? She couldn’t be sure.
The soft, almost quiet scuffle of boots rasped against wood.
Oh, shit, oh, shit. She fumbled for the dagger, lost somewhere in the covers?—
“Sire?” Attor called out, the heavy door muffling his deep voice.
“Attor?” she croaked, her bones turning to water.
“Aye, lass.”
“Give me a sec.” She scrambled off the bed, nearly stumbling in her haste, her bare feet slapping against the cold boards as she sprinted for the door and yanked it open.
Attor waited on the tiny landing, staring down into the common room.
He turned, his eyes more gold than blue in the lamplight, his brow furrowing. “The sire’s not with you?”
Ash shook her head. “We had an incident…”
“Hold, lass.” On alert, his eyes narrowed as his head cocked, likely scanning the place. “Let’s go down, warmer there.”
He gestured for her to proceed and he followed, the stairs creaking under their combined weight. Koal stood near the downstairs window, likely tracking every shadow outside. He turned as they approached.
Attor removed a clouded crystal from his pocket and traced something in the air, then set it on the table. White light rippled across the walls. “It’s a sound-sigil,” he said. “Whatever we say stays in this house.”
Okay, then. Ash filled them in about the dragon spy in hushed whispers, as if that beast was still around.
“There are spies everywhere.” The hard line of Koal’s mouth settled into a tight smile. “But never fear, Ash. We are here.”
While that reassured her, she wished Race were back already. She sank into the armchair near the fireplace, setting the dagger on the small wooden table near her.
“How long since the sire left?” Attor asked.
“A few hours now.” She frowned, glancing at the passage leading to the other bedrooms. “Where’s Skaldr?”
“Gone scouting for the guard rotation schedule,” Koal said, lumbering past and dropping into the armchair opposite her.
Yeah. They needed that list.
“Flaeron?” she asked.
“We followed him until he took off into the skies, toward the barracks,” Attor muttered, stalking to the window and staring upward. “With the heavy cloud cover, easy for the bastard to double back.”
“The barracks?” Ash frowned. “I thought he lost favor with Malcarion?”
“Aye.” Attor glanced back. “Yet somehow, he’s still with the army. So it’s not work; likely, something personal got him kicked out.”
Koal nodded in confirmation, a muscle working in his jaw. “We watched the garrison entrance for hours, but there was no sign of him. He’s a damn gold, easy to spot even at night. So, where the hell did he go?”
“There are other Resistance fighters around,” Attor said then, still staring outside. “We will be notified when he appears.”
God, she hoped so. At the thought of being marked by that fascist prick, revulsion crawled up her spine. Ash shuddered.
The ward-light outside pulsed again, and she rubbed her chilled arms. Her mind slipped back to the children in cages. “We should be out there, helping those poor little kids.”
