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“Why were you there?”
Adam looked around. The room was empty, but that did not ensure privacy.
“You can speak freely here,” Silver assured him.
“I was at the Night Market to find the souls of the people struck down by the banshee at the concert last week. Their souls have been bottled and hidden.”
“You were trying to help them.” It wasn’t a question. Adam could almost hear the unspoken, Because of course you were.
“One of those struck down was an acquaintance, one of the local mortal practitioners.” Adam paused. “He died at the hospital.”
“I am sorry.” Silver sounded sincere.
One of the things that Adam admired the most about his king was that he saw the value in humans and other mortal races. He didn’t hold himself apart or higher, as many immortals did. He truly embodied the elven belief that all life had worth, though in Adam’s experience they too often measured an individual’s value by the amount of magic they had.
How would they apply their ideals to the empty people at the hospital? Would the elves still consider them alive if they had no souls?
He could not imagine they’d let them die, though it might be a mercy if their souls never came back from wherever they were trapped.
“What’s the common thread?” Adam asked.
“What do you mean?”
“So far the banshees have come through empty people, but not every empty person. The other five at the hospital didn’t hatch a banshee, just Cole. What makes him special?”
“And what did he have in common with the empty people at the market?” Silver mused. “You are right, Adam, we need to find the common thread.”
“We will gather descriptions of those used in the market and study the poison used on the ogres,” Argent said. “And we will look for these soul bottles. If we can find the buyer, they may lead us to whoever is weaponizing the banshees, if they are not one and the same. We’ll start with the Lost Ones.”
“You should let me do that,” Adam suggested.
The twins looked at him, each of their faces wearing the same unspoken question.
“You said it yourself, you haven’t been able to get close to the Lost Ones. I know them, at least one of them. They don’t trust immortals, especially royals.” Adam drew the sword from his back and offered it to Silver. “I was prepared to beg you to let me keep this, but having me on the outs might give us the best chance to find the souls. It’s too late for Cole but I might still be able to help the others.”
Silver considered the offered hilt and a large part of Adam hoped he said no. The sword had been a comfort the last few hours. He’d missed its weight and the security it brought, but the Lost Ones were unlikely to speak with him if he carried it.
“He is right,” Argent said quietly. “He often sees what we cannot.”
“I have not yet passed judgment on Adam’s actions.”
“And yet you have not barred him from all of our resources. He remains in limbo, between.”
So they knew about Jack helping him, and probably about Dautre too. The knight had said as much. Adam didn’t love that. He didn’t want to put his friends at risk.
“You are being unsubtle, my sister.” Silver looked around the massive room, as if their privacy was not as guaranteed as he’d said.
“You leave me little choice.”
Silver sighed, just a little, and took the sword.
“Be careful, Adam. The blade will come if you call it, but it may not reach you in time. We don’t know who or what you’re chasing, and we may not be able to follow you everywhere the hunt takes you.”
19
Argent dropped Adam outside his apartment, telling him she knew where he and Vic lived, because of course she did. He tried to take it as a comfort.
He wouldn’t have minded more time with her and Silver. He’d wanted to ask them about the Between, about the redacted information in Jack’s records, but couldn’t. They were likely the ones responsible.
