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Yvonne made a disgusted snort. “She’s addled, that one.”
“I’d have to agree.” Griffin scrubbed a hand through his hair. “All right. So what are you proposing?”
“First,” she turned to Yvonne. “Do you have the duplicate key to the tower room?” She smiled, because she’d already seen it in her vision.
“Yes, I do, but no one knows this.” Yvonne’s face lightened suddenly. A moment later, a smile lit her features. “I see what you’re doing now.” She chortled softly. “I’m in and I don’t give a flying forest gremlin if I die tonight.”
~ ~ ~
Griffin slowly paced Sandra’s bedroom. He’d stayed behind because it would be one of the last places Fulton would be able to send troops to look for him. Fulton would need permission from Margetta herself to invade the women’s quarters for whatever reason. But it chapped his hide to be forced to wait like this.
Yvonne and Sandra had agreed to say that they’d each seen him earlier in the fortress and that he’d finagled a beer from Yvonne. But he’d left some time ago, through the rose garden, heading to the quarters housing the female service slaves.
Setting Fulton on a wild goose chase was the best they could do and it might just work. If fate was on their side, they had a chance.
They were also of one mind, that no matter what, Regan must be given an opportunity to escape her imprisonment. A woman with so much power, once bonded to one of Margetta’s loyal mastyr vampires, would become a formidable opponent in the final stages of the war. Griffin had no doubt Margetta would help force the bond, perhaps using a controlling spell to alter the Ruby Fae’s good nature.
Timing was crucial, though. Griffin had to remain hidden in Sandra’s room until the key was delivered with the next meal. If all went well, Sandra would be able to get the key to the Ruby Fae, after which Regan could escape the fortress. Then he would attempt to carry Sandra and Yvonne through the terrible mist spell and out of the Dauphaire Mountains.
But dawn was coming soon, as well as the appointed hour for Sandra’s wraith-bonding ceremony.
They didn’t have much time.
What concerned Griffin the most, however, was the mist he now saw from Sandra’s window. Since he’d completed the blood rose bond with her, his increase in power had brought the mist fully within his vision. It appeared as a thick wall surrounding the entire camp, including all the space overhead. It was no wonder his previous escape attempts had failed.
But instinctively he knew there was a pathway through the spell. He’d sensed it before. And now that he was bonded with Sandra, its existence became fixed in his mind. The trouble was, he couldn’t see it, at least not yet.
The lives of Both Yvonne and Sandra were on his shoulders now. But without the pathway, Margetta’s spell might as well have been made of cement.
~ ~ ~
When the fat troll opened the door to the tower, Sandra walked in. The Ruby Fae stood near the small table and chairs, her hands folded in front of her. She looked composed and elegant, but she made no move to sit down nor did she speak to Sandra until the tower cell door closed and the lock turned in the grate.
Regan’s gaze went almost immediately to the white towel rolled up beneath Sandra’s arm. Sandra forced herself to remain calm, even though her heart beat so hard in her chest it was a pulse in her ears.
She didn’t make eye contact with Regan, since the troll watched them both through the barred window in the door. She didn’t want to give anything away at this late hour.
“As you requested last time, Mistress,” Sandra said pointedly. “I brought an additional towel for you.”
Regan, of course, had made no such request, but she responded in kind. “Thank you. I’m grateful you remembered. And how are you, Sandra?”
“Very well, thank you, Mistress.” Her tone was breathy, as she slid her gaze to Regan and dipped her chin once.
She set the tray on the small table, then moved to the washstand, tucking the towel next to a basin and companion water pitcher. She’d dreaded dropping the towel for fear the key would tumble out and clink loudly on the stone floor. But the towel fit perfectly between the two ceramic pieces.
To Regan’s credit, she appeared impassive. But Sandra caught the glitter in her eye as Regan sat down on the stool in front of the table.
Knowing it was important to stick to the habitual order of service, especially since the troll was still watching, Sandra moved each item off the tray in the same measured sequence as last time, though her fingers trembled slightly.
Regan held her hands together on her lap in a tight clasp. Her gaze seemed to be fixed to the
braid draped over Sandra’s left shoulder.
Regan’s voice entered her mind. You brought the key? It’s in the towel, right?
With her back to the door and therefore the prying eyes of the troll as well, Sandra met and held Regan’s gaze. I did.
Because Sandra was also positioned to block the troll’s view of Regan, she touched Sandra’s arm. Can you come with me? I’m a strong flyer.
