He silenced him with a look.
Hewould decide if pursuing her was worthwhile or not. Asmodeus had placed his life and his household under him, and as such, had no right to question his actions.
Caspian flew hard and fast, letting the currents eat up his energy reserves. He wanted to be exhausted enough to fall into bed without dreaming.
He slept fitfully. That crushing weight was back in his chest, making him feel almost ill.
Guilt. He had not felt guilt for an age. For the first time in his long, wicked life, he felt unsure of how to proceed.
He sent Maud and Finnigan to hunt for her in Rhodea, but they returned after a week empty-handed. He had Iago send discreet messages to contacts in other kingdoms, but heard nothing. His search was fruitless, and he had nothing to go on.
There was no crumb left to follow.
Obsessing over every interaction they had shared yielded nothing but a headache. She had mentioned her interest in seeing the City of Scholars, so he sent a servant there, but no woman fitting her description had arrived.
When he went to bed one night, he resigned himself to the idea that he might never find her. It might be madness to continue to expend resources to find a woman who clearly did not want to be found.
The fact she had outsmarted him and outsmarted Finnigan, who had never failed before, made him even more obsessed with finding her.
Defeat gripped him.
***
A few weeks later, he jerked awake in bed, breathing hard.
She is in the last place you’ll ever look.
His heart hammered against his ribs. The last place … not another kingdom, not with her parents.
The first place he would look would have been Rhodea. Other than her home kingdom, she could be anywhere from the Winterlands to Israr. Faina was out, as he doubted she wanted to visit the war-torn country. The last place he would ever check would be ... here.
***
“Fiza,” Caspian whispered in the dark.
She woke with a gasp, instinctively snarling and shifting to her demon form before recognizing him. The flames against his fingers cast dancing shadows in the cramped room she shared with Maud.
“Master! I’m sorry, I did not see you.”
“What city did you and Elizabeth visit the most often?” Each word was measured, dangerous. “And I command you to answer honestly.”
The flames gathered brighter at his palm.
Fiza swallowed, her eyes darting from his hand to his face.
“M—master?”
“Answer me,” he commanded.
***
Veridas. She was in Veridas.
He searched Elizabeth’s chambers for something with her scent, but found nothing. He would have to hunt from memory alone.
Her scent was soft—honey and lavender. He remembered the smell of her hair when she slept in his arms. He sat for a moment, centring himself on that memory, trying to pin her scent in his mind.
He took Icefire and hid his wings in a flash of smoke.
