Before I can respond, there’s a knock at the door.
“Get that, will you?” Mother says, rising to go to the kitchen, “I have to take the bread out of the oven.”
I nod and cross to the door, already knowing who’s waiting on the other side.
Igor looks me over, eyes widening as he takes in my hair—and then yanks me into a bone-crushing hug.
I’m frozen in his grip for a second, stunned by the show of affection, then I throw my arms around him.
“I’m so damn happy you’re still alive, kid,” he grunts, voice rough with emotion.
I clear my throat awkwardly as he lets me go. “Haven’t found Saela yet, though.”
He clasps my shoulder, his craggy face grim. “You will.”
“At least the Nabbers are under control now, right?” I say, ushering him inside as Mother comes out of the kitchen.
The two of them exchange a confused look.
“Wait. The attacks have stopped,” I say, glancing between them, “…right? No more kids are getting taken?”
Igor’s face darkens. “No, Meryn. The attacks haven’t stopped. In fact, they’ve increased.”
“What?”
Mom steps forward, reaching for me with a worried grimace. “Mer?—”
“Three more children were taken in the past week alone,” says Igor, his face pinched. “What made you think they’d stopped?”
A cold knot of fear and disbelief hardens in my stomach. The Nabber we questioned. The warehouse. It should have stopped their operation.
Did something go wrong? Were Killian’s guards not able to find it?
I wear a new kill mark on my throat for that man, and yet the attacks continue. I’ve failed.
Igor claps me on the shoulder again, snapping me out of my frantic internal spiral.
“Listen, that ain’t your problem right now,” he says in his gruff way. “You need to focus on surviving your training—thenyou can get back to saving the world.”
“Right,” I mutter, resolving to talk to Killian about the Nabbers later. Right now, I just want to spend time with my family. I muster a wry smile. “It’s not just the training though. Tonight I have to survive a fuckingball.”
“Language, Meryn!” Mother exclaims as Igor barks a laugh.
“Sorry, Mother.”
“A ball, huh?” Igor quips. “Rather fight a damn Siphon, myself.”
“Me, too,” I grunt as we gather in the living room once more.
“Oh, stop, you two,” Mother says, her eyes glimmering with wistful excitement. “A ball at the castle soundswonderful.”
“Not when you’re a podunk nobody commoner,” I mutter. “One of only two, out of all the Rawbonds this year, I might add. All the others come from Bonded families. One of the fancy gowns they wear to things like this could buy us food for a whole year.”
Igor chuckles. “Bet you just love getting all dolled up for those blowhards.”
Mother swats at him. “You leave her be. Every girl deserves to wear fancy things now and then.”
I huff out a breath. “Yeah, sure. Except I don’thavefancy things.”
