“That’s not what I asked,” Soren said, before pointedly adding, “And it’s clear to anyone with eyes that she doesn’t.”
“Anyone with eyes needs to get their vision checked,” Viri stated flatly. “And I’m a hunter—I’m always on my guard.” She pushed Soren toward the door, where Sage was impatiently tapping her foot. “Now go, before she leaves without you.”
Soren was clearly waging an inner war, wanting to stay withViri and Wynter and hear what Reeve was about to share, but also needing to save his sister. Reason won out, and, with a warning look to Viri, a silent reminder to be careful, he strode off after Sage, the two of them vanishing from the lab.
Viri spun back to Reeve. “Time to talk. What’s this new time-sensitive threat?”
19
Much like Soren had earlier, Reeve began to pace around the workroom, his agitation more concerning than the stillness he’d maintained for most of their discussion.
“Do you remember the story your parents used to tell us when we were kids?” he asked. “The one about the Guardian of Elverdine Isle?”
Viri blinked at him. Blinked again. Then threw back her head and laughed. “Elders, you can’t be serious?”
Reeve halted his pacing to cross his arms over his broad chest. “I told you earlier that I don’t need you to trust me, but I do need you to listen. Laughing isn’t listening.”
“Don’t worry, I heard you loud and clear,” Viri said, still chuckling. “I also know that whatever you’re about to say is going to be ridiculous. The Guardian of the Isle?Really, Reeve?”
“What do you remember about it?” he pressed.
Viri’s laughter faded. “This is hardly the time for fairy tales.”
He shot her a look. “Humor me.”
Baffled, Viri glanced at Jonas and Wynter, both of whomseemed to be on Reeve’s side—Jonas likely because he already knew what Reeve was going to say, and Wynter because she was dying of curiosity.
“Do you want the full bedtime story,” Viri asked dryly, “or will a summary do?” She couldn’t believe she was indulging him when it felt as if the whole island were burning around them.
“A summary is fine,” Reeve said.
“No, the full story,” Wynter requested. “What’s the Guardian of Elverdine Isle?”
“Not what,who,” Jonas corrected. “He’s part of an ancient legend, one not widely known.”
Wynter’s brows rose with intrigue, and she looked at Viri in expectation.
Giving in, Viri sighed and said, “You might as well sit back down for this.”
Wynter returned to the couch, and when Jonas sat beside her, she held her hands out for Walnut. “I sense I’m going to need bunny snuggles for this.”
“It’s not a scary legend,” he assured her.
“I didn’t think it would be. I just want an excuse to pet the floof.”
Jonas grinned and handed the rabbit over. “I can’t fault you there. Walnut snuggles are the best snuggles.”
“Elders save me,” Viri muttered, looking up through the glass dome in search of divine patience, only to become alarmed by how much lighter the lake was now, with dawn swiftly turning into sunrise somewhere above the water. No wonder her tolerance was gone—she’d missed an entire night’s worth of sleep.
“I’m only going to say this once, so pay attention,” Viri warned, starting her own pacing around the lab. “There had also better be a damned good reason for this waste of time.” She speared a look at Reeve, who remained in the middle of the room, his feet planted, his arms still crossed, but he gave a dip of his head to indicate there was.
“I’ll explain when you’re done,” he promised. “But I need to know what you remember first.”
Viri’s eyes narrowed. “I’m seventeen, not seventy. My memory’s as good as it’s always been.”
Reeve said nothing to that, though there was an odd tension about him, as if he was restraining himself from snapping back. Instead, all he said was, “Fabulous. Now prove it.”
Viri gritted her teeth, then started at the beginning, just like her parents used to. “Once upon a time there were three young hunters: a husband, his wife, and their best friend. All of them were skilled, the husband especially so—until he was injured in a reaper attack and siphoned almost to death, leaving him weak and unable to do the one thing he felt he was born to do: hunt.”
