I drop the pale blue flower onto the sheets, then unfurl the parchment. In true Farron fashion, it’s long, every inch of the page covered in his messy scrawl. He talks of his adventures with Caspian, and the ridiculous outfit Caspian dressed him in, and how irritating the Prince of Thorns is. Tears fall from my eyes and smear the ink as he writes how he misses me and Dayton. Of how brave I am, and how I can do anything I set my mind to. It gives me the courage I didn’t know I was so desperately craving.
Only at the end of the letter does he write of the flower.
I found this on the Nightingale’s potion desk, of all places. Can’t get it out of my mind. What reason could she have for experimenting with such a thing? Rosie, this is important.
But I’m out of paper, and Cas says he has to leave now. I miss you so much, my brave, wonderful mate.
I love you in the starlight way.
Farron
I wipe my tears and bring the letter to my lips, kissing it. Falling back to my bed, exhaustion threatens to pull me under. Slowly, I trace the edges of the flower.
The Deceiver’s Bloom.
Rosie, this is important.
CHAPTER 73
Ezryn
Towering cliffs loom on either side of us as we make our way through a gorge. My footprints trail behind me in the red clay.
It’s eerily quiet here, besides the occasional screech of a vulture. I catch them circling above, waiting for heat or dehydration to take us.
I have no idea how long this canyon stretches. Our goal had been to make it to the red clay sands, and we’re here, as deep into the Ribs as one can get. The only sign we’re going in the right direction are the giddy steps of the Pegasus foal leading our party.
Drusilla beats her white wings, flapping a few feet into the sky before descending again. She turns around as if to urge us forward, an impatient whinny echoing in the canyon.
“Be careful,” I murmur to Delphie and Nori, who flank me. “We don’t have good sightlines. There could be anything in these crevasses—”
My words are cut off by a sharpthunkto my neck. I stumble backward, grasping at my throat. I yank out a small dart and hold it up. My vision wavers, the black-feathered dart becoming two.
“Run,” I whisper as the world goes dark.
My eyelids flutter, reluctant to part, as consciousness stirs within me. My limbs feel heavy, and my mind is covered in a thick fog. With a groan, I push myself upright.
The world swims into focus, hazy and disjointed. I can’t even take in my surroundings.
“Delphie? Nori?” I try to say, but my throat is dry. Where are the girls?
The scent the desert blooms wafts into my nose, punctuated by something stronger—horse musk. I claw back what consciousness I can and will my eyes to clear.
I’m in a room cut into red rock, its walls adorned with carvings my eyes are too blurry to make out. The ceiling opens up to the sky; the sun sits just past midday, which means I haven’t been unconscious long.
“Ez? Are you okay?” Nori’s voice. A wavy image beside me clears, and I see her staring at me, an uncharacteristically worried expression on her face. She’s on her hands and knees but unbound like me.
“I’m fine,” I say. “You?”
“Yeah, I’m okay.”
I breathe a sigh of relief. “Del?”
Nori nods forward. “She’s, uh, she’s talking. Withthem.”
I focus my eyes toward the direction Nori nodded. In the center of the room sits a throne, hewn from rugged stone but adorned with feathers. A woman sits straight-backed, a fierce expression on her face. Atop her head is a magnificent headdress; like the throne, huge feathers jut out, arranged in a way reminiscent of—
Reminiscent of a Pegasus.
