Page 133 of By the Flames of Her Fury

“Perhaps,” Arcadia said. “But we have ways of convincing her.” He suddenly clenched my arm, and my eyes rolled back into my head as an illusion slammed into me.

“We will tell her how the Fates plucked you from your bed, eager to teach her a lesson.” As Arcadia spoke, I saw an image of myself being torn from my room by shadowed hands. The illusion was startlingly real—I felt the coldness, the fright, the way my face looked slack in sleep before it contorted in terror. It was a perfect rendering of me, down to the scar on my eye and the tip of black wings inked on my chest.

“We will tell her how we sensed the disturbance and came running.” The vision shifted into the palace corridors. The three High Elders sprinted, faces etched with conviction. “We fought to reach you. We found you and risked our lives to rescue you from their clutches.” Wavering again, I saw the three Elders standing over my form, magic blazing around them in a maelstrom as invisible forces tore at me. Maeve’s face was streaked with sweat and dirt. Julius bled from a wound in the temple that began to heal itself. Arcadia shielded my body with his own, arms thrown wide. It was all so real, so visceral, that I almost believed it myself.

“But in the end, we were too late,” Arcadia finished solemnly. The illusion of the three of them mourning over my broken body shimmered in my mind, their hands resting on my chest in sorrow. Then it vanished like smoke, and there was only Arcadia’s blurry white beard inches from my face.

I gritted my teeth as reality came back to me. “She’ll learn the truth eventually. And when she does, she’ll never give you what you want.”

“I assure you, she will. All she needs is the proper motivation,” Arcadia said. I felt his robes swish at my knees as he spun around. “Prepare him for the ritual.”

I struggled against my restraints, panic whipping through me. Two hazy forms converged, and I let out a bellow of rage as shadows plunged down my throat, and the world went dark.

63

Vera

“I’m not going anywhere with you until you tell me who you are and what’s going on,” I demanded, staring at Sloane with shadows swirling in my palms.

She side-eyed me. “You’re real fun at parties, aren’t you?”

When I stepped toward her with flared nostrils, she sighed. “Relax. I’m on your side. I’ve been undercover here for several weeks now. I heard the High Elders talking about where to take your friend, and⁠—”

“Wait.” I held my hands up. “Why would the Elders take Everett? We’re trying to help them. We’re trying to help all of you.”

It didn’t make sense. Everett had warned me, had said he was in Arcadia’s dream, but what could he have seen that would prompt this? That would make the Elders turn on us?

Sloane lifted an eyebrow. “Fates, I didn’t expect people from the outside to be so dense.”

My mouth fell open. “Excuse me?”

“I don’t know what you think is happening, but the High Elders don’t work with anyone.” Sloane’s jaw shifted, and her gaze burned with anger that seemed to go far beyond this conversation. “They’re using you, and taking your friend is another move in their massive game of chess. If you ever want to see him again, you’re going to have to trust me.”

“Trust you? I still don’t even know who you are!”

The door flew open, and Tessa stood in the archway, arms crossed and braids frizzy from sleep. “Can someone please tell me why I’m awake right now?” she grumbled. When she saw Sloane, her eyebrow raised slightly. “And why the maid looks like she’s been raiding tombs for fun?”

“Everett’s been taken,” I told her. My worry slammed into me tenfold. “He was here with me, and then he was—he was gone. There’s blood on the sheets and signs of a struggle. I’m going to look for him.” As I spoke, I fixed several daggers to my thigh and pulled the strap of my bag over my shoulder.

“What?” All the grogginess left Tessa’s eyes as she looked at the bed behind me, taking in the horrible sight. Her gaze snapped back to me. “I’m going with you. Have you told the Elders yet?”

“No, and I’m not going to.” I jerked my head to the maid. “Sloane thinks they’re the ones who took him.”

“Because I heard them discussing it,” Sloane said. “Listen, I can explain everything if you’ll just come with me. We may not have long until⁠—”

For the second time, a figure appeared in the doorway, and Kieran’s large frame towered over us. “What is all the commotion for? It’s four in the morning.”

Sloane let out a frustrated sigh. “How do you people ever get anything done?”

“Trust me, this is nothing,” Tessa scoffed, then turned to Kieran. “Everett’s gone.”

“Gone?” Kieran thundered. “What do you mean, gone? We were all together last night.”

“He was kidnapped,” Tessa said, gesturing to the torn, bloody sheets. Kieran’s face paled.

“It was the High Elders,” Sloane added. “You can’t believe anything they say.”

Kieran’s brow furrowed at her. “Wait, are you not the maid who works for them?”