Light pierced the fog as a man holding a lantern stepped into view.
My grip on Cierthine tightened. Platinum blond hair tumbled past his shoulders, and yellow eyes like those of a cat flicked around our group. An ebony suit of armor hid beneath his black cloak.
This was the man from Tsuyan. Quinn—Reese’s old friend. One of the men responsible for the refugees’ deaths.
My lips curled into a snarl.
“Looks like you were right, girl.” Quinn tossed the shardwolf a dried hunk of meat. “We aren’t alone out here.”
Brighid wrapped an arm around Liam and helped him up. “You must be Quinn—Bláth mentioned you had awful hair.”
“Lady Brighid.” Quinn glowered at her. “Bláth mentioned you had a sharp tongue.” He lifted his chin, noticing Liam.
Moving around the scáde, I pointed Cierthine at the Solheart. “If you so much as twitch in his direction . . . ”
Quinn’s yellow eyes observed the scene before settling on me. “You aren’t in a position to make threats. That wound looks nasty—and I don’t recommend you return to your Paragon.” He whistled, and the scáde lowered its head and wings—offering us to mount. “Come with me—and I’ll get him to a healer.”
“Where would you take us?" I demanded.
“Where else?” Quinn smirked. “To the haven of your enemies. Because no one else will help you.”
Chapter 42
Diar
Akemi had described the capital of Nazumi as breathtaking. A collage of colors, built upon a lake, impossible to describe in full.
I’d envisioned a collection of houses along a shore. How wrong I’d been. My interpretation described the outskirts, the farmhouses, and fishing huts scattered outside the walls.
The walls themselves were magnificent, painted with crashing waves and helmed by metal roofs. But the city tucked behind it was even more awe-inspiring.
Platforms criss-crossed the lake’s surface, transparent like glass, the color of turtle shells. Buildings were erected along them, crowned with three-tiered roofs strung with lanterns. I stared down as we crossed the first platform into the city built upon the waves, half-expecting to fall through. Strange trees grew from the water, roots floating on the lake and drifting down into the deep.
Ferris bumped into me—his eyes were pointed straight down, too. Snapping his head up, he nudged me. “Are you ready for this?”
Crowds funneled past us, following the flow of the platforms. They felt foreign, despite being my countrymen. Guards looked like works of art, their armor crafted of woven steel, decorated with blue sashes and padded jackets painted with scenes of the sea.
Women wore the same long dresses we did in Tsuyan, but they were made from thin, breathable silks and adorned with decorative scarves. Several walked alone, but no woman in Tsuyan could travel without her father or husband.
A small blossom of hope unfurled in my heart.
“Let’s go,” I said, taking Ferris’ arm lest I lose him in the crowd.
“Have you thought about what you’re going to say?” He asked, eyeing the open-windowed shops along the right edge of the platform.
“I thought you were doing the talking.”
“Some of it, sure. But I’ve never met the Archdruid, so I don’t know what he’s like.” Ferris stopped, staring to his right. I followed his gaze to a window filled with feathered hats and turtleshell hairpins.
Yanking his arm, I dragged him away. “Later.”
“Right,” he murmured. “You spent all my money, anyway.”
“It was coin well spent.”
Ferris blurted out a single syllable, then shut his mouth. He gave me a sidelong glance—the same look he shot me every time he had been about to flirt.
Flexing my hand, I pictured Siotha. I had not summoned it yet. Part of me worried it would not heed my call.
