I squeezed her hand. “Thank you. I’ll pay you back.”
She gave me a weak smile, then shifted closer to my side and whispered, “They still don’t have Quinn. I’ve already sent a dillemsill to try and find him.”
My eyes widened. I’d completely forgotten about the eighth member of their raiding group in the interim. He’d disappeared days ago, after Jax and his friends had nearly been caught by the kingsfae in Possyrose Forrest.
“Do you think you can reach him?”
She shrugged. “It depends on the dillemsill. Sometimes they’re able to find him. And sometimes they can’t, but I’ll hope for the best.”
I nodded. “How will I find you again tomorrow?”
“Let’s meet here at ten bells into the evening. With any luck, Nellip, the prince, and all the others will be back by then anyway, and all of this will be behind us.”
“All right. Ten tomorrow. And you’ll bring my things if they’re still not free?”
She nodded. “Yes, I’ll find a way to get everything.”
“Is there any chance you can also grab a handful of portal keys from Quinn’s stash? Just in case I need to get somewhere quickly?”
“Yes, I’ll do my best to get all of that for you.” She squeezed my hands again. “We’ll survive this, somehow, Elowen. We will.”
I dipped my head. “Yes, we will. And Saramel? Thank you.”
She took a trembling breath. “Let’s just hope by tomorrow, this nightmare is over.”
CHAPTER 18
I was exhausted by the time I found the inn Saramel had recommended by the wharf, and while she wasn’t kidding about the less-than-luxurious accommodations, I didn’t care. I fell asleep on the thin mattress, a scratchy blanket over me. Drunk siltenites lumbered by on the street, slurring and singing loudly, but I was asleep before my head hit the pillow.
In the morning, the sound of the bells woke me with a start. For a moment, I didn’t know where I was. I gazed around the small chambers with only a single cot and lone table in it. A bowl sat on top to use as a latrine. There wasn’t even a washroom.
The navy gown I still wore had ridden up, and my legs were chilled. Wrinkles covered the beautiful flowing material, but a quick burst of magic cleansed my body and gown. With my collar gone, I now had enough access to my magic to do so, not like last time, when I’d needed Jax to clean my clothing.
My heart twisted the second I thought of my mate. Perhaps he was being beaten, punished, or interrogated. Or, for all I knew, they’d released him, and he was looking for me at this very moment.
But my hope dimmed the second I thought that. If he was free, he would have come here. Saramel would have told him where to find me, or the bond would have led him.
But at least I knew he was alive. I closed my eyes and concentrated on the feel of our bond. Hot and bright, the strands linking our souls together still burned inside me, like a candle flame flickering in the wind. Jax was very much alive, and from how strongly I felt him, he was still in Jaggedston. They hadn’t transported him elsewhere.
Taking comfort in that, I got up and grabbed the lone quarter-rulib I had left from Saramel’s stash. It would be enough for a cup of tea and a pastry. I would literally be coinless after finding something to eat, and I could only pray to the gods that Saramel would be able to retrieve my bag and pile of rulibs tonight. Without them, I would soon be a vagrant on the streets.
Outside, the cool morning air swirled around me. I quickly checked out of the inn, then grabbed some meager food at a corner stall. The tea was bitter but hot, and the pastry dry, but it calmed some of my hunger pains.
Around me, sounds of the wharf filled the air. Banging, shouting, and more than a few curses flowed through the wind. Down the port, at the last dock, the royal ship that I’d taken with Jax to Faewood was docked. Its beautiful navy sails were tied, its exterior gleaming from a fresh wash. Another twist of regret tore at my heart and nearly brought me to my knees.
No, stay calm. You’ll find Jax. You’ll help free him. This isn’t your new reality. All hopeisn’tlost.
I was contemplating how to go about doing that when a dillemsill popped into existence at my feet. I jumped, nearly stepping on the poor thing.
“So sorry,” I mumbled.
Its purple chest puffed up indignantly, and it swished its long furry yellow tail. “Elowen Emerson, you have a message,” it chirped.
Heart pounding, I scooped it up and brought it to my ear. “Yes? I’m ready.” Holding my breath, I waited and prayed that it was a message from Jax.
The small yellow bird tweeted into my ear, “The supernatural courts have summoned you. Please return promptly.”
My shoulders fell, and with trembling hands, I set the little bird back on the street. It whirled in tiny little circles, spinning and spinning like a mini tornado, until it exploded out of existence and returned, most likely, to the dreaded courts.
