“I’ll go,” Tucker offered.“There’s a woman in town who I became acquainted with the last time I was there.It won’t seem odd if I return.”
“Is Val from Seacrest?”Scarlet asked.“Maybe she could help.”
“No, she’s from White Pool,” I answered.
“The villagers are on our side; I gathered that much from my last visit,” Tucker said.“They’ll watch for us too… if we ask them.”
“We can’t risk revealing too much,” I said.“Even if they hate my father and the aristocracy, that reward will be too tempting for some.”
Ellery sat back.“I agree.”
“So do I,” Ianto said.
“As much as you’re not going to like this, you’ll have to sit this out.”I might as well rip this bandage off now.
Ianto frowned as he crossed his arms over his massive chest.“I can help.”
“You’ll be more help by staying here and watching over the children.If something goes wrong, you’ll have to move them to the other camp.If they discover this camp, we’ll lose some; there’s far too many of us now for that not to happen, but if you keep the children together and move them somewhere safer, we’ll get them through this.”
I’d known mentioning the children would take some of the fight from him, and I wasn’t disappointed.Ianto scowled at me, but his shoulders slumped a little and his arms fell to his sides.
“Fine, I’ll stay, but if something goes wrong, I’m coming for you,” Ianto promised.
“I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
“So, this is the plan then?”Luna asked.
I looked at the men and women gathered around the table.I’d prefer for the plan to be living the rest of our lives in peace and security, but that wasn’t to be.
When my gaze fell on Ellery, she smiled and took my hand.I didn’t want her there, but I wouldn’t stop it; it would be impossible to do so, and as much as I hated it, we needed her.
I smiled back as I squeezed her hand.“This is the plan.”
CHAPTERNINETY-EIGHT
Ellery
Pressingmyself flat against the grass, I lay beside Ryker at the top of the hill.Over a thousand feet away, the caravan of carriages loaded with carisle continued through the village of Seacrest.
When I was younger, I’d gone to the coastal community of Lighthouse Point, where my aunt Connie lived with her husband, but I’d never been to Seacrest.
From where we were safely hidden behind a crest in the hill, the land and village sprawled out before me.The bright November sun beat down on the hills, rolling like green waves across the land until they leveled out and became the one-story, sprawling oceanside homes of Seacrest.
With their gray siding faded from years of sea spray, most homes were the same color, but a few differed from the others.They weren’t the vibrant colors of the city of the dead, but there were shades of blue and a couple of faded yellows mingled with the grays.
Most homes had twisting iron staircases from the ground to a widow’s walk on the roof.Dozens of lightning rods also decorated every roof in the village.
The only building with any vibrant color was the red warehouse in the center of the sprawling town.Its large double doors were thrown open to the day on both sides, allowing a clear view of the sparkling blue ocean beyond.
Amsirah moved in and out of the warehouse as ships pulled up to the docks on the other side of the building.Bins full of fish filled the open space.
On a rocky outlet jutting far into the sea, white spray plumed into the air as waves crashed onto it.At the far end of the jetty, the waves splashed the side of a white lighthouse with a black top.
Out to sea, boats bobbed on the waves.They flowed up and down with the tide as their sails billowed in the wind.
At the end of the rolling green hills, seagrass and sand spread across the land to the backs of the homes lining the street.Though the sun was dazzling, the air held a crisp chill that carried the scent of the ocean and taste of salt.
Despite the presence of at least a thousand guards, it was all so peaceful and serene.Birds squawked overhead and spun in lazy circles that cast shadows over the land.
