Finally, his gaze lands on him. “I told you not to leave the private quarters.”
I gape at him. “Youknowthis man?”
“He’s a friend. Your brother said he could stay at his place for the time being.”
“Ada was telling me some very interesting things about Lunaris,” Malachi says, narrowing his eyes at Draven, who merely shakes his head.
“Not now, Bain.”
My eyes fly back to my collector. “Bain?”
“It’s my middle name,” he says. “It’s what my friends call me.”
“Oh.”
Malachi Bain.The Sages would never approve of that name.But it certainly suits someone who works for the goddess ofdeath. I look at Draven, wondering how much he knows about that, then at Malachi. And then I start pulling on my cloak and head toward the door.
“Have you spoken to Sara?” Draven asks behind me.
“No. I need to go see Jordi.” I start putting on my amulet as I head to the door.
“Who’s Jordi?” Mal asks.
“Jordi can wait. You need to see Sara. There’s a lot happening that you don’t know about. It may not be?—”
“Shecan wait!” I snap, whirling around to face him as I open the door and let it rest against my shoulder.
“Very well.” Draven shrugs. “Just make sure you don’t go to the square.”
That gives me pause, but I’m momentarily distracted by the man beside him. I return Draven’s glare. “Instead of worrying about me, maybe you should make your friend look presentable.Ifthat’s even possible.”
Malachi’s brows lower. “Where are you going?”
“We’ll finish our conversation later,” I say and move to step out.
“You can’t leave,” he growls.
I freeze again and glance back at him. “Ican’tleave? There are many things you don’t know about me, Malachi Bain, but perhaps the most important is this: I only take orders from a handful of people andyouare not one of them.”
With that, I let the door shut behind me and run to the stairs. If everyone is supposed to attend the Council’s speech, this is the perfect time to see my brother.
Chapter Eight
The bridge is a nightmare. A sea of visitors clogs the path, their chatter rising around me like gnats I can't swat away. Most of them wear purple cloaks with winged serpents pinned to their chests. Lyrionne. They've likely been here before.
“Don't you find it odd that there are no children here?” someone asks.
I groan. Not that anyone can hear me over the noise.
“They're not allowed to have children,” a man responds.
“Why?”
“To prevent overpopulation.”
“Is it even an island?” someone whispers.
“Mind your mouth. They gave us strict orders,” the man hisses.
