‘Demari,’ Hal says.
‘Demari?’ I repeat, unfamiliar with the word – in Ostacrian, at least. ‘What’s that?’
‘That’s what I’m trying to find out.’ He taps the scroll against his leg, then lets it fall into the pile at his feet. ‘I’ll call a meeting in the observatory tomorrow. Maybe I’ll give some of these books to Elaith to sift through. It might help distract her.’
‘From what?’ I ask, stricken.
Does Hal know about Cole? About what he’s doing to her?
‘I had word this morning,’ Hal says. ‘It turns out Blaze isn’t in that safe house, and neither is Flint. Their grandmother was using decoys, if you can believe it.’
‘Decoys?’
‘To cover up the fact the twins are missing. It seems they disappeared shortly after the attack on Fire Mountain.’
Unease coils in my stomach. ‘But why?’
‘Search me. Anyway, one of the stable boys sold the information to the highest bidder. I imagine half of Ostacre knows by now, including my uncle.’
I swallow. I only hope Blaze knows what she’s doing.
Hal’s raven eyes meet mine, and whatever he sees there causes him to ask the question I’ve been dreading. ‘What is it?’
My mouth turns very dry.
He reaches out to touch my cheek. I add this to the List of Lasts.
‘We need to talk,’ I mumble.
‘Is this about your sister?’ Hal guesses. ‘I’m sorry I don’t have more to tell you yet. You know I have to be incredibly careful about the Eyes I assign to find her.’
‘Yes, I know. That’s not –’
‘I never thanked you properly for what you managed to uncover at Ember’s banquet,’ he continues. ‘It’s because of you that we now know what my uncle was looking for. And once I figure out exactly what theseDemariare, then we’ll know why, too.’
‘Hal.’ Barely a whisper.
‘I knew you’d make an excellent spy. It’s a pity there haven’t been more feasts or balls since the …incident, but with any luck there’ll be some intel to gather in a few days. Honestly, the people love an execution almost as much as they love a wedding.’
I go rigid.
‘Alator said they’re anticipating a large turnout,’ Hal goes on, oblivious. ‘I thought it a little unsavoury, but he assured me that a public spectacle is the most effective way to make an example out of the girl.’
Slowly, I untangle my fingers from his.
Hal lets me go at once. ‘Has something happened? Are you all right?’
I answer his questions internally – yes, and no.
‘Elva?’ His tone is anxious.
The words emerge in a strangled gasp. ‘I came to ask you to spare Ingra’s life.’
Hal’s expression shifts, just as I knew it would. His mouth clamps shut, his jaw locks, and his eyes – slightly glazed, whether from confusion or opium or both – blink twice, then narrow, tightening at the corners.
When he speaks, his voice is low, almost inaudible. ‘What?’
‘I’m asking you … to spare her.’
