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The remaining chill she felt had nothing to do with the room’s temperature and everything to do with her surroundings. This safe house was a vipers’ den. She’d never truly feel at ease here.
Devon pushed away his empty bowl of potato stew, his unnerving black eyes resting on her. “You’ve asked her five times already if she’s all right. I’m sure her answer will stay the same.”
Nava glared at him and smoothed the messy waves of her hair. “I’m fine,” she said and met Arkimedes’s eyes in an attempt to reassure him. But whatever he saw in her expression clearly didn’t settle his doubts.
Never mind. She returned to studying her surroundings instead. A large chandelier hung low above the table, elegant swirls sculpted into its iron shape. Its candles burned with eternal magical flames that cast an orange light over the room.
Devon slid off his chair, strolling to the fireplace and feeding it a new log. “So, are you going to tell us or not? What happened when you crossed the portal?”
Nava glanced down at her arm and the wound, now covered by the sleeve of her blouse, but the words stuck in her throat.
“Stop,” Arkimedes said, a warning in his tone. He inched toward her, as if he could protect her from the sudden darkening of her mood. Perhaps he knew she’d rather speak to him alone.
“We can fill the silence with useless chatter about the stew you just cooked with those lovely dehydrated potatoes or we could make a plan? We can’t stay here forever.”
“No, we can’t.” Arkimedes sighed, placing the glass of wine he’d been nursing on the table. He didn’t have to say a word for Nava to know he desperately wanted some answers as well. His feelings were pushing loudly through their bond.
Nava sank deeper into her uncomfortable chair. “I know who is letting the Zorren into Caztian. The child in the bakery told me.”
“The child?” Devon scoffed. “Just when I thought I’d heard it all…”
“Caden had the gift of the Sight. It’s why the Crows killed his parents. He told me the man in the shadows was letting them in.”
“The man in the shadows?” Devon scoffed. “Do you know how ridiculous that sounds? Now we have to base our plans on some tall tale a child told us?”
“Why would you think he made it up?”
“Because all deserters have a sad story, Cat. I already told you who I think is at fault for their living conditions.”
“You can lie to yourself about your precious Society, but he wasn’t lying. Caden knew things very few people know about me,” Nava insisted. “And he knew about the demons.”
“That means nothing. A lot of locals attended the king’s dinner where Arkimedes publicly revealed that the Zorren are burning the forests. By now, the entire city is aware of them.”
Arkimedes pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose with a sigh. “Stop making this about the Crows and deserters, Devon.”
“Why? We could call on the Society to help us fight the demons. You were their golden boy. They will bend over backward to assist you now that you are the heir to an entire kingdom. I, for one, think the Corvus could be of great help to subdue the Zorren. After all, we are the most powerful magic-wielders in Caztian.”
“I’m no one’s golden boy. They have used me for as long as I can remember.”
“And yet here you are, using them…” Devon raised his hands above his head, narrowly missing the chandelier.
Arkimedes’s frown deepened. Then he turned to her. “Who is the man in the shadows, Nava?”
“I don’t know his true identity—” she began, but Devon’s loud grunt cut her off. Nava glared at him and rolled up her sleeve, revealing the angry blisters. “He did this to me when I crossed.”
Arkimedes stopped breathing. His chair scraped over the floor as he stood and bent forward to better inspect the wound she’d been hiding from him.
The imprint in the shape of a hand stood out sharply against her skin, and Nava’s heart lurched in her chest as she spotted the black veins that now extended up her arm. They flared out from the new blisters that had formed during the day. “I didn’t see the veins before. Is it infected?”
“Did you encounter a Dark One when you crossed the portal?” Arkimedes’s anger flooded through the bond and blurred the edges of her panic. Was he upset with her for not telling him sooner?
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you say anything before?”
Devon leaned across the table, his brows scrunching as he, too, inspected her wound.
“Because—he looked like you!” she blurted out over the thundering of her heart.
