Etta rushes to me, her eyes shining. She grabs my forearms. “She’s safe.”
There can only be one person she’s talking about. Our sister. Elle.
Etta’s smile is shaky, like she can’t believe Elle’s okay. Like she’s relieved. It surprises me. She hasn’t seemed to show any interest in her long-lost sister. Come to think of it, she hasn’t shown much interest in getting to know me either since I’ve been at Squall’s End. But her palpable relief at finding Elle tells me maybe there’s more to Etta than meets the eye.
“Where?” I ask. “Where is she?”
Etta releases my arms and joins Basil’s side once more. The scout stands behind them, shifting on his feet and stealing glances of Asmo and me when we’re not looking.
“An abandoned house. You were right,” Basil says. “DeerCourt.”
I reach for Asmo’s hand. “Let’s go.”
She crosses her arms, her mouth an angry slash. “We need to assemble a team. You can’t go alone.”
I turn to the shifter. “Who’s at the house?”
“Just the two of them, Your Highness. The girl and the traitor,” he says, casting a nervous glance at Asmo, then promptly looking at his feet.
“Good. Take us there, please,” I say.
The shifter looks to Etta, seemingly for her permission.
“We don’t have time for this,” Asmo mutters. “As your H?—”
I jab him with my elbow to shut him up. “What’s your name?”
“Joel, Your Highness.”
I smile, hoping I’m coming across as sweet, yet slightly intimidating, if there ever was such a combination. “Joel, it is imperative that we get there as quickly as possible. Would you mind funneling us to them?” I turn my gaze to Etta. “Once we are there, Joel can funnel back. If we do not return within…fifteen minutes, send Joel back with reinforcements. How does that work?”
Etta’s jaw ticks, but she nods. “Fine.”
I motion toward the direction of Squall’s End’s only entry and exit point. “After you, Joel.” He throws one last nervous glance back to Etta, then sets off down the hall.
Outside, the sun is starting to dip behind the trees. We were right not to wait—a rescue mission in the dark would have been idiotic. Joel places his hands on my forearm—right after shooting another nervous look at Asmo—and then one on Asmo’s forearm.
The forest is eerily silent as we step from the funnel. I turn to look back and thank Joel, but he’s already gone. Asmo and I stand back-to-back as we take in the surroundings. Bare trees tower above, leaves fallen to the ground long ago left to rot on the forest floor. The air is fresh, a soft breeze passing through the trees. A tiny tornado of dead leaves flits past, leaves spinning in the funnel.
Like the forest, the house is also dying, wood rot spreading along the gray siding, moss and ivy creeping up its sides, taking back what belongs to them. The front porch sags and holes pepper the stairs while window shutters hang crooked.
But a light flickers from a window on the first floor.
And then a flame appears.
A flame of crimson pierced by two bone-white antlers. As quickly as it appeared, it disappears. And then the front door is thrown open, and Elle is running, she’s sprinting, she’s crying and I can’t see anything anymore because I’m crying, too. She crashes into me and I wrap my arms around a frame that has grown too bony, too sharp, too different from the version of her from before.
But she’s here.
Two sisters. Together again.
Over her shoulder, Marik descends the staircase. His movements are slow and awkward. I close my eyes. Elle pulls back and wipes her tears away with the heels of her palms.
“Holy shit,” she says. “I can’t believe you’re here.”
I can’t help it. I laugh through my tears. “Me either.” I study every inch of her exposed skin, but there aren’t any visible wounds. Her dress is slashed, right in the center of her stomach, revealing the echo of a hidden sigil. But otherwise, she’s unharmed. “You’re okay?”
She gives me some combination of a shake and a nod. I know what that means. Physically, she’s fine. Emotionally, mentally…Of course she’s not okay.
