She wandered over to look through the archway toward the cloister. Shane took Narya this way. Out of the hall, through the quiet candlelight in the cloister, to the conservatory fountains. And then he’d left her there. After that, Narya slipped away… and disappeared.
Someone killed her before she reached the outer doors.
Izzy could easily picture it. One quick stab in the shadows. No blood or mess, no time for Narya to cry out… so long as she was standing close enough to her killer. Was it someone she knew? Someone she felt she could trust? But why not leave her in a corridor to find? Why smuggle her out all the way to the Nabaspath?
Shane said there were guards with them the whole time. They would have accompanied him when he left, leaving heralone. If she suddenly collapsed on her own, no one would have even thought of murder.
Mother of the gods. The whole thing was terrible. Cold prickles itched at the back of her neck, and Izzy looked around, feeling exposed. Was someone watching her? She spun, a spike of fear speeding her heart, and then let out a relieved chuckle when she saw Cori stepping into the Flame Hall. “I thought you were gone!” Izzy exclaimed. “Aren’t you mustering the troops?”
“I am,” Cori agreed, making her way past the long wooden tables set with bright linen and shining crystal. “But it takes time. Our soldiers have been recalled, and now we’re checking and replenishing kit. My staff sergeant is liaising with the battalion quartermaster to fill the supply wagons so that we can leave before dark. Hopefully, we’ll clear the city and camp outside the city tonight, ready for a long march tomorrow.” Cori looked away for a moment. “I’ve left Aiden and Kai in charge for a short while so I could come and see you. A messenger said you’d come this way.”
Gods, a moment before, Izzy had felt like she was utterly alone in the universe, and now here was her closest friend, looking for her, presumably to say goodbye. Cori was going back to the border, and from there, maybe to war.
There was a moment’s silence, and then they both started speaking at once. “I’m sorry—” Cori began just as Izzy said, “I wish?—”
They both laughed, and Izzy reached out to take her friend in an affectionate embrace, swaying side to side as they held each other like sisters. When they moved apart, they were both sniffing. “Thank you,” Izzy whispered. “I’m glad you came.”
“Of course I came,” Cori murmured back. “I couldn’t leave without seeing you, and I wanted to apologize again?—”
Izzy stopped Cori with a squeeze of her arm. “No more apologies. I understand, and I’ve already forgiven you.” Shesmiled. “How long do you have before you need to get back? Could we have lunch together?”
“Sorry, Iz, I really can’t.” Cori wrinkled her nose. “I need to see to my own kit, and I need to visit the barracks kitchens to check arrangements for the meal for everyone before we go. I have to see the horse master, get back to the quartermaster, and then check in with each squad personally, all in the next few hours.”
Izzy sighed. She remembered the chaos of deployment all too well; she just wished everything was different. “Are you glad to be leaving?” she asked gently.
Cori nodded slowly. “I am, actually. It sounds hard to believe, but I was happy enough in our outpost. It’s almost a village now.” She gave Izzy a sad smile. “I didn’t want to come back here.”
“It’s not that hard to believe. I did the same thing; I just didn’t run as far.” Izzy wished there was some way she could help her friend. “Do you think you might meet someone else? Someone who actually deserves you?”
Cori rolled her eyes. “Like you met Jak?”
Izzy snorted. Cori knew all about how hard she’d tried—and how spectacularly she’d failed—to fall in love with Jak. And now, even the idea of meeting someone else made her feel queasy. Luka was her mate; that wouldn’t change. She just had to figure out how to make a good life without him. “Luka doesn’t want me,” she admitted softly.
“Yes, he does.” Cori’s reply was swift and firm.
Izzy shook her head. “Something happened last night, and I… gods.” She held up her hand and called her claws. They extended slowly, gleaming sapphire-and-onyx.
Cori gasped and reached out a finger to gently prod one claw. “They’re beautiful, Izzy.”
“I know people can move on from a lost mate. It’s not a death sentence like the old myths say, but”—she wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands—“I don’t know how.”
“Oh, Izzy,” Cori whispered. “I really thought it would be different.”
“How do I get over him?” Izzy rasped. “What do I do?”
“You keep moving forward,” Cori murmured. “You wake up each day, and you put one foot in front of the other. That’s what I do.” She held up her own hands, wincing as ten glittering midnight-blue claws slid from her fingertips.
“Mother of the Weave.” Izzy threw her arms around Cori’s shoulders and pulled her into a tight embrace. “I didn’t know.”
“No one does. Not even Shane,” Cori admitted.
“What can I do?” Izzy asked.
“Find this assassin and finish this. Then tell Luka you love him. Don’t let him push you away because he’s afraid.” Cori rested her head on Izzy’s shoulder. “Luka believes that he will always be abandoned, that he will always come last. It’s why he sacrifices himself so easily; it’s better, in his mind, to fall on his sword first, rather than wait to be stabbed. Don’t let him.”
Izzy’s beast hummed its agreement.
“Maybe.” Izzy wasn’t convinced. “But what about you? How can I helpyou?”
