This was something that had been done to her.
And yet through whatever enchantments had been woven into her flesh and soul, she had still rebelled.
She had reasons she could not remember for betraying the queen.
If she remembered enough, she would have reasons for betraying me.
“I will find all I can about what’s been done to you and will report back,” I promised.
Her face shifted with relief, and I wanted to curse myself. If Ander knew she was alive, he would race to her. But it was the wrong time.
Once Cara was claimed by Lightbringer—once we had the knife—it might be time. Ander would be impossible to restrain if he knew she was alive.
“The knife,” I said to Riven, and my voice was exactly what it had been. “I need to move before Obsidian reaches it. I need all the intelligence you can gather.”
“You’ll have it.”
I looked once more at Tesa. She was watching me with that open, trusting steadiness. “We’ll speak again.”
I meant it. I didn’t say in what capacity.
I walked three streets before I let myself fully think about it.
If the knife could truly sever attachments, there was a path through this new tangle of thorns.
The queen had brought Tesa close because she intended to use her against Ander. That was the only reason to keep Tesa alive. My mind spun through the timing.
If I told him she was alive, it would not be a gift. Telling Ander she was alive, while she was altered and shaped by the queen’s enchantments, was cruel.
If I had the knife in hand…if I could bring her back, changed, but once moreTesa…I could repair some part of what I had done to him.
Most of all, the queen was only enraged by what troubled her plans. That meant I needed that knife.
Clan Obsidian was already moving toward it. I would have to move faster.
Eight
Fear
Icame back from my Nightwalker meeting through the lower passages, which were less watched, and emerged into gleeful debauchery.
We had entered the wilder time after a Hunt where the clans spilled down the stairs and into the antechamber to celebrate together. As soon as dragons finally claimed shifters, the Trials would be over. We would all be back to hunting monsters, spread across the kingdom, until the next year brought us back together.
It was a good chance to seek Obsidian and see who had left already, or if they were still preparing for the queen’s mission.
And yet, I found myself hunting not for Obsidian’s leaders but for one blond head, far shorter than the others.
Anayla stood beside her and Rees was watchful at her feet. Cara wore a simple black dress. Unclaimed shifters wore black, so she had settled on something that was not Amber colors or Bismyth’s. I could picture her wearing my colors the rest of herlife. Seeing her in my tunics before had nearly destroyed the last shreds of my sanity.
They didn’t see Maura moving toward Bismyth, graceful as a leopard and twice as stealthy.
There was something in her face that I had not expected: without armor. It was the expression of a woman who had been outside the warmth for long enough that she had stopped being able to pretend she didn’t feel the cold.
Cara and Anayla had not seen her yet. Anayla was saying something softly, and Cara had her head tilted to listen; they were both smiling. Cara’s smile was devastating.
Maura’s face shifted when she saw Cara. It might have been guilt or might have been grief.
When Cara looked up, her eyes widened as she saw Maura. She barely flinched.
