Page 91 of Revels on an Angel’s Grave

“I need to check the towers.” Emmeline attempted to brush past the guard, but he extended an arm to stop her.

“Afraid I can’t let you up there.”

“But I—sir, I worked a recent murder case, the one the Chancellor has spoken of. The victims had the exact same markings. I need to see if there are any similarities—anything the killer may have left behind.”

“I know who you are, Miss, but I can’t permit civilians to enter this building,” he said.

Emmeline’s jaw popped open. “I’m not any regular civilian, though. I was brought here by the Chancellor—I’ve done this before!”

“You may be the Chancellor’s guest, but that doesn’t matter here.”

What good was the reverence everyone forced upon her if she couldn’t even use it for this benefit? To help them catch a dangerous criminal.

No, they wanted her to be a pious figure, not do anything worthwhile. What she’d done on Lyra meant nothing to them beyond the potential of her magic.

“Come on, Mare,” Eston attempted to reason with the guard on her behalf, but the man—Mare, apparently—shut him down quickly, threatening rank. And Cyren had disappeared to ensure the family of the victim was found.

“I’m sorry, Miss, I am,” Mare said, though he didn’t sound all that sorry. “But we’re waiting on instructions from my command before we allow anyone in.”

Emmeline sighed, biting her tongue. A woman had died. That was the important thing here. “Can you at least tell me if you found anything in the tower she was hung from? Any incense?”

“There was, yes. We have yet to identify it.”

Her head swam. She didn’t need anyone to identify it. Emmeline knew in her bones it was the same flower grown on Lyra. Knew it was the same incense and purpose.

But how had it gotten here?

How had all of this happened here?

“Thank you for the little help you’ve provided,” Emmeline snapped, turning to leave. Eyes and whispers followed her as she traipsed away, but she didn’t look at any of them. Emmeline kept her gaze lifted as the lingering warriors parted. Let them spread whatever rumors they wanted to about her, she didn’t care.

“We should get away from this area,” Desmond said, eyeing the remaining crowd. Eston nodded in agreement.

“Yes.” Emmeline looked back up at the window, reading those horrible words. Her attention lingered on the bloody wings, another pair flashing through her mind. “I know where we need to go.”

It took Emmeline a while to find the street Angel Brew was on in the Third District, but once she did, it was no time at all until she located the mark.

“See,” Emmeline whispered to Desmond and Myrella as she crouched beside the wings, brushing her fingers over the ashy insignia. “It’s still here. And it doesn’t wipe away. It rains so much in this city, it should be gone by now.”

“What do you think that means?” Myrella asked, scuffing it with her boot. No matter what they tried, the winged insignia of the Warders of Selene wasn’t moving.

“I don’t know,” Emmeline said.

A rowdy group of men wandered by, and Desmond stepped closer, eyeing them until they were gone. Eston lingered beneath the canopy outside Angel Brew, far enough away that he shouldn’t overhear their conversation. Still, Emmeline stepped closer to Myrella and Desmond.

“We know this symbol is associated with Dryvius’s ritual, but why is it here—on the cobblestones—in the exact spot I was attacked—a few days before the first murder in Valyn? That has to mean something, right?”

“It does,” Myrella agreed.

“But it doesn’t help us figure out anything about said murder,” Desmond said as if finishing her thought.

Emmeline sighed. “I know, but it can’t have been Roremar. He wasn’t here when the first symbol showed up.”

She toyed with the Mystique ink note that had appeared from Lola a minute ago telling them Roremar was safe and she was dealing with him.

She hadn’t elaborated on what that meant.

No one could reasonably blame him for this murder, but Emmeline’s stomach turned at the ominous note.