And in the moonlight that filters through the maw of Draconhold Forge, Dayton paces, leaping every time he catches his reflection in a shield or the glint of a sword. Terrified of the man staring back at him.
George left. I didn’t stop him. No point. He doesn’t have anything anyone wants anyway.
We’d figured out what had happened by the time Dayton returned. I’d healed the worst of George’s wounds—a gash to his head and a dislocated shoulder. But nothing can heal this.
It’s gone.
The rose is gone.
Our one hope for turning the tide against Sira, for being able to help Rosalina while she’s trapped Below…
Gone. In the blink of an eye.
Amid Kairyn’s roars of frustration, I hear Dayton mumbling to himself. He paces like a caged animal, turquoise eyes wide and unseeing. “He wasn’t even here, and he could control me. He yanked my strings from across the realms. What is this body? Nothing but an effigy for his use. A fake, that’s what I am. A wraith who cannot trust my own hands.”
Kairyn lets loose a banshee-like howl, throwing a hammer, shoulders trembling. “All for nothing! I could have told you! She’s unstoppable. Nothing will ever change that. What Sira wants, she gets, by blood and by force. Useless to hope. Why did I think…”
I need to say something. They need me to say something.
But what can I say? They’re right. Dayton is a pawn on Caspian’s board. Whatever move we make, Sira’s there waiting. Who am I to offer them hope? I am leader of the rats alone.
“Are you three still in here moping?” a voice calls from the entrance of Draconhold. Slowly, I crane my neck to look, the mere act like moving through sludge.
George stands there, backlit by moonlight. He looks tall from this angle, sapphire gaze sharp and warm at the same time. He must have found a stream, for he’s washed all the dirt from his face and clothes.
“Where were you,” I say, not even able to manage the inflection of a question.
“Never you mind that. It’s far too dark in here. Let us get some light.”
None of us seem capable, but George strides in and gathers lanterns on the workbench, filling the space with a warm, golden glow.
We are as still as Kairyn’s abused dummy, merely watching this human man bustle around. He leaves for a few minutes, then comes back from the communal kitchen with some slicedmango, four cups of steaming coffee, and a plate of polvorones—which I know he didn’t find in this kitchen.Where were you exactly?
With a deep sigh, he settles on the workbench, then gestures to the empty space around him. “Come now, join an old man.”
I don’t know how I’m going to eat, but I can’t resist the smell of coffee. My legs creak as I stand and shuffle over to the seat opposite him. Kairyn sits in a huff beside George, nearly tipping the bench before it settles back down.
Dayton wanders over but stays hovering in my peripheral, as if he’s afraid to get too close.
“So we’re in a spot of trouble, aren’t we?” George says with a mouthful of polvorón.
“This isn’t trouble, George,” Kairyn growls. “This is defeat. Something I’m all too familiar with now.”
“Without the rose, all our plans are futile,” I say.
George nods and takes a large slurp of his coffee. “Well, not all our plans. I’d say one seems to be going exceedingly well.”
I raise a brow. “Oh?”
“My daughter’s plan. You said you heard her voice in your mind, did you not, Dayton? That means she’s no thrall.” A mischievous twinkle lights in George’s eye. “She’s an inside agent.”
“Yeah, well, she’s on her own. Again,” Dayton growls. “We were supposed to save her. Instead, I’ve only endangered her more.”
“Then I suppose we’ll have to find other ways to be helpful,” George says.
Kairyn gives a loud snort. “What else is there? We’ve got a possessed gladiator, a prince with no power, and me.” His red eyes flash downward. “A bloody demon.”
“Come now, that’s not the attitude we need right now. Let’s hear some ideas. Ezryn?”
