I have Amriel’s gyre out of my pocket before she can finish. “Could you use this one?”
She stares down. “Doesn’t that belong to?—”
“Him. Yes. But you should take it. And don’t let him have it back. Don’t let him come into the labyrinth. Don’t let him get himself killed for no reason.”
She must realize that’s exactly the sort of thing Amriel would do, because she swallows hard and sweeps the gyre into her hands. “Right. Yes. I’ll hold on to it.”
“Good. And you.” I spin to Calen, who regards me with suspicion, his arms crossed over his chest. “If Amriel comes for me before Ravenna gets back, I need you to distract him. Keep him away long enough for me to get into the maze. And keep him out of there until I break the hourglass.”
He raises a skeptical eyebrow. “You want me to keep a man from his mate?”
“Well. Yes.”
He looks at me askance. “Do you haveanyidea what you’re actually asking?”
I pause, my tongue tripping over itself. “Well…no. Not really. But this is my last chance to break his curse. If I don’t gonow, he’s never going to let me.”
Calen lets out a sigh that seems to empty his entire body of air, but ultimately nods. “Fine. But I won’t do it in this jacket. This one’s my favorite.”
I scan him, taking in the deep black velvet of his evening coat, the glittering embroidery swirling down the sleeves. “Itisvery nice.”
“Take her to our room,” Ravenna commands, Amriel’s gyre already flaring in her fingers. “I’ll meet you back there as soon as I can.Witha boat.” She tosses me a wink.
The gyre’s whine rises to a scream. Reality tears open, the force of it tossing me back a step. Then she’s gone.
Calen regards me for a moment. “You’re really going to do this?”
“I’m going to try,” I say, and something happens to my voice. It turns sharp, steel-edged, finding some new register I’ve never accessed before. These are words I could grab hold of and cut someone with, if I had to.
“Hmm.” Calen coughs into a fist. “The bond’s coming along nicely then, I see.”
“The—” I stop, my brows snapping together. “What?”
He gives me a look of suppressed amusement, then inclines his head and spins on his heel. I scurry after him down the passageway, then another. The filigreed beads in his hair clack with every step, and I follow him until we arrive at a vine-laden door. Calen ushers me into a sunset-soaked room similar to mine, only filled to the brim with armoires and mirrors, with the bric-a-brac of a shared life. A half-full bottle of perfume sits on a vanity, its pump tassel puddled on the wood. It must have only recently been spritzed, because the whole room smells of lavender and vanilla. A low bed occupies the center of the space while various charcoal sketches paper the walls, each one depicting a woman wearing a wind-blown dress or hanging on to a flying scrap of silk. I step close, drawn to the movement in each picture, to the dynamism the artist has managed to capture. “Wow. Are these yours?”
“No.” Calen pulls open an armoire to reveal a row of hanging jackets. “Ravenna’s.”
My eyes pop. The sketches are incredible, each one an homage to femininity and joy. “She draws?”
“Mmm-hmm.” He shrugs out of his coat and hangs it up, then turns to me, his fingers on the buttons of his silk shirt. He pauses, scrutinizes my expression. “What? You didn’t think we just fight and fuck andeat all day, did you?”
My face heats. “Well…” I toe the floor with my boot.
He laughs. “Shadows below. Really? What’ve you beendoingthis whole time?”
My hand finds the back of my neck, trying to scrub away the heat there, but he’s right. I haven’t given the fae a fair chance. I haven’t sought to learn about their ways, haven’t even stepped foot in the library Amriel spoke of.
But I will. I should.
Later. Some day. If I ever get the chance.
Calen shucks his shirt and tosses it onto the bed. I avert my gaze, excruciatingly aware that I’m alone in a room with Ravenna’s half-naked mate. Then again, I’ve already seen him in much more compromising positions, so maybe I’m just being prudish.
When I glance back, he’s shifted into his goblin form, and I startle at the change. “What’s that for?”
He flexes his shoulders, splays his claws. “You want me to stop him, right?”
Something twists in my chest. “Yes, but not by hurting him.Pleasedon’t hurt him.”
