Page 164 of Blade of the Nightking

“Good,” was all Rìan said.

I felt Segolayne's stare burn into the side of my face, her naked hatred clear. She didn't need to speak for me to understand. She thought another book had triggered one of Levinica's episodes. That reading with me had somehow pushed her over the edge a second time. That it was my fault.

She was wrong about the reason—but she wasn't wrong about me. I bit down on my tongue hard enough to taste blood.

“Are you certain one of us shouldn’t come with you?” Segolayne asked, her attention shifting back to Rìan.

“I can handle the Eidra.”

I bristled. The dismissive certainty in his voice made it sound as though I were no more dangerous than a fruit fly, but I held my tongue.

“The Court of Flames has been dealt with?”

Veylan tilted his head. “No suspicion, as far as I know. Calantha replies promptly to Aedric’s messages.”

I blinked, outrage flaring through me. Veylan had been writing to Calantha as Aedric?

I supposed it made sense. If she’d suspected anything, she would’ve already stormed into Noctharis in search of her High Lord.

“She believes he’s working alongside Levinica to unravel her vision.”

At the mention of Levinica, a heavy silence settled over the dock. No one spoke. Not even the sea was loud enough to fill the hush.

Rìan rolled his shoulders and straightened. “Do what you must. What you deem necessary to protect the Dusklands until I return.” Segolayne and Veylan nodded as one.

A dark shape brushed against my ankles.

Titter Mouse.

He let out a pitiful mew, and I bent to stroke him. No purr came. He only pressed his head into my palm, clinging to the contact.

My throat burned. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

His wide, mournful stare pierced straight through me. Slowly, sadly, he unwound himself from my legs. His tail hung low as he padded toward Rìan, who crouched at once and reached out a hand.

The kitten froze, every hair along his body standing on end. He backed up a pace and snarled, a low, vicious sound as he arched his back. With a final hiss, he bolted, vanishing between two abandoned buildings. Whatever tentative truce had existed between him and Rìan had apparently been forgotten.

Rìan lowered his hand, watching after the kitten. As he rose, the folds of his cloak parted, revealing the pale gleam of an ivory hilt nestled among the many blades at his waist.

My bone knife.

“Feed the cat,” Rìan said stiffly. Segolayne grunted her reluctant assent.

Rìan stepped smoothly off the dock and into the small boat, which bumped softly against the pilings. He held out a hand.

“Come.”

Grinding my teeth at the command, I slipped my hand into his. His fingers closed firmly around mine, his palm warm against my freezing skin. I climbed awkwardly into the sloop, and the moment my feet were planted, I pulled my hand away.

I dropped onto the bench at the bow, pulling my cloak tighter, trying to trap what little warmth remained. Rìan settled himself down and took up the oars while Veylan untied the moorings. Segolayne braced a boot against the side and shoved us farther into the water.

“Rìan.”

His hooded head tilted up.

“Send word.” Segolayne managed a strained smile. “When you find him. We’re ready for some good news.”

Dannis.