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Her hands dropped away from Sloane, revealing several short braids that coalesced into a singular braid running down the length of her hair. She gathered the bottom portion that had been left out of the styling and draped it over Sloane’s shoulder, quickly adjusting the laces of the dress without comment. When she turned toward me, I didn’t bother to resist. This woman, for all she assumed we understood what was happening, didn’t seem to want ill for us or anything. She was… nice, actually. As nice as any stranger could be, I supposed. Without a word, I twisted, giving her my back. Her hands were even faster working through my hair. Before we’d finished the food on the tray, she had my hair finished and the laces of my dress done up a bit tighter than the night before without making the bodice uncomfortable.

Then she grabbed the fabric she’d draped over the foot of the bed and held them out to us. “Cloaks for the Passage,” she said. Once we took them, she grabbed another small set of items I hadn’t noticed before, tucked nearly entirely under the bed. “And your shoes.”

I carefully took the pair, watching Sloane ease hers on before focusing on mine. They almost looked like ballet flats, complete with a strap that wrapped around my ankle. I tied it with a simple knot. Sloane ended hers with a bow.

As the woman grabbed the empty tray, there was a knock and the door swung open. A person I hadn’t seen before leaned in, his eyes catching on Sloane for a moment before focusing on the woman.

“Lillian,” he murmured, “the Archmage is here.”

Sloane shivered, and I couldn’t even blame her. His voice was the smoked spice of a summer fire, and it had even me melting under it.

Lillian only paled as her breath caught.

“Right.” She swallowed heavily and smoothed down her skirt. “Well, I’d best be on my way, then.”

As she started toward the door, Sloane grabbed her hand. Lillian paused, her eyebrows furrowed. The man took a step into the room, his hand on the hilt of one of the blades at his hip. I eyed them both closely, ready to slide in front of Sloane.

Then I just about collapsed from shock.

He had wings. Dark-as-night feathers covered wings that arched over his shoulders by at least a foot and ended in a sort-of point just above his knees.

“Wings,” I breathed. “That’s… entirely normal.”

The man’s eyes narrowed on me, and he took another step into the room, clearing the door entirely. His white-blond hair fell away from his face as he twisted to look between the three of us, his eyes seeming to snag on my sister again. His rounded ear had the same arcing scar as the guard last night.

“It’s all right, Hale,” Lillian whispered.

Hale? That was who Lillian had said used a salve that had helped my head heal. Right? I couldn’t remember. The longer I sat up, the more my body hurt and my mind muddied. I rested my temple on my knee again.

“Thank you,” Sloane said into the charged silence of the room.

Lillian’s smile was sweet even as her cheeks flushed with heat.

“Of course,” she said. “Sepra is lucky to have you representing us for the Rite.”

Sepra. I tried to tuck away the name, willed myself to remember it.

“Lillian,” the man murmured.

She squeezed Sloane’s hand and then my own. “May you bring honor to Freia.”

“Now, Lillian.” His voice held a firm warning, though his face was soft as he looked at her. “He won’t like you still being in here.”

She waved as she passed the man, ducking her head as she left the room. The guard closed the door without comment, the lock sliding back into place.

Not a minute later, the door was thrown open and the smaller man from the night before stepped into the room.

“Let’s go,” he said without a hint of warmth.

Sloane quickly rose to her feet, holding my elbow as I stumbled a bit with the movement. I kept the cloak pressed to my stomach and looped my arm with my sister’s. The man held his hand out, palm up, his look expectant. When we didn’t do anything, he sighed.

“Touch me so we can leave,” he ordered, his voice colder than before.

I forced my hand steady as I set my palm in his. Sloane looped her fingers around his bared wrist. As soon as we both touched him, he muttered a phrase that didn’t translate.

The room around us vanished.

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