“Recognize her?” Brech says smugly. “She told us everything.”
Melanne lowers her head.
Karis’s heart leaps as the initial joy crashes through him. He thinks, he needs to tell Coira. And Ronan, and all the others. Melanne is alive. He was right. Melanne is alive.
But that joy is immediately tempered with dread.If they’ve interrogated her under truth spell—what else do they know?
“I don’t recognize her,” Karis tries, even though surely they saw the shock on his face. Even though his voice wavers. “I told Neradt, I didn’t see any of my captors clearly. Whatever she said, you can’t trust her.”
“Get moving,” Buzzcut snaps.
Magic hovers around Melanne’s cuffs, strands of Radiance twisted to the limits of Vara’s jurisdiction. Before Brech and her paladin cronies drag him away, Karis closes his eyes and reaches out with his own power. He’s at his very weakest, but he’s strong enough to unravel the Radiance from the cuffs, leaving them inert and without magic. He opens his eyes in time to see Melanne jerk in surprise, then lower her head again, before he’s escorted away.
Karis can’t save Melanne right now, but he can give her a fighting chance.
?
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
RONAN
Every minute’s delay pounds another nail into Ronan’s heart. It’s the fastest he’s ever planned a heist, but the night is still nearly over by the time the Locksmiths are ready to move. They finally settle on the route that will get them closest to the Dawn’s Tomb, where they can cast the unbinding.
“The place-rune isn’t too precise—anywhere on the cathedral grounds should work,” Leth explains. Dawn’s Tomb chapel is enclosed and defensible, and Ronan’s been there before.
Ronan wants to rescue Karis first, but they’ll only get one more shot breaking into the Bright Cathedral. If they break the binding first, the Radiance-wielding paladins will become ordinary soldiers. The Locksmiths will be able to find and snatch Karis more easily in the ensuing chaos.
Once they’ve settled on a route, they have to decide who’s going.
Coira’s eyes are rimmed red when she says, “I’m going with the team.” If she’d asked like that before, Ronan would have refused. Her emotions and her magic are less controlled, less safe, without Melanne to balance her. But right now, Ronan is in no place to judge people for being emotionally compromised. It’s not safe to let Coira come. But it’s right.
“Who else?” Ronan looks at the circle of raised hands and determined faces. His breath catches in a painful mix of fear and pride. “All right, we’re all going. No need to hold anything in reserve this time.”
One final roll of the dice.
Dansa rubs her hands together. “Evain, can you ask someone here to take care of Alice? Just in case—just in case we take a while getting back.”
Evain is fastening a more conservative jacket over his nearly translucent shirt. “I’ll ask one of the roses.”
“As for the relics, the boxes are too cumbersome,” Ronan says. “Leth, Dansa, and I will carry relics and perform the binding. Coira and Evain have the most firepower, so you two will cover us. Coira, you—”
Coira cries out as every lantern in the room flares bright with sudden power.
Waves of magic coalesce around her, and she crumples in on herself. Flames dance in her hair, around her arms, driving Dansa back when she rushes to check on her. Ronan grabs for his dice—
The lanterns stabilize. Coira straightens slowly, illusory flames still reflected in her wide eyes. Her chest heaves for a few agonizing breaths. “I felt her.” Her voice trembles. “Melanne is alive.”
Shock sweeps over the rest of the crew, followed by elation.
“Where is she?” Ronan asks.
Coira takes another deep breath and wipes her eyes. “Where else?” she says, the laughter in her voice nearing hysterics. “Where everything is, apparently. The Bright Cathedral.”
The place they’re drawn to, again and again. Ronan doesn’t believe in coincidences, but he believes in luck, and he believes in fate. Of course he’s meant to return to the site of all his deepest regrets.
Someone swears. But all Ronan asks is, “Can you transport to her?” Coira nods, and Ronan looks around at everyone. His voice is iron when he says, “Ten minutes. Get ready.”
They’re ready in seven.
