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“Yes, of course. I’m sure Caelan and she will have plenty to discuss.”
Rayne’s fingers tightened on his fork and his stomach churned with the food he’d just eaten. “Yes, as soon as we find him.”
“What?” Shey squawked.
Rayne put his fork on his plate. The food was delicious, but he’d managed to only eat half of it. His appetite was gone with the thought of Caelan missing and Eno wandering the streets of this huge city searching for any sign of him and Drayce.
“Caelan and his friend Drayce went exploring the city today, and they’ve disappeared. They left late this morning, and we’ve not heard from them since. Our other companion, Eno Bevyn, has gone looking for them.”
Shey reached across the table and covered one of Rayne’s hands with his own. The gentle scrape of callouses across his own smooth skin was surprisingly comforting and familiar after all this time. “We’ll find them, Rayne. Even if I have to send out my entire police force to search house to house and building to building, we will find them.”
“Thank you. I don’t know what kind of trouble they could have found.” Rayne paused and licked his bottom lip, hating to admit this to Shey but he needed to know. “Though he didn’t say it, I think Caelan went to see if there was any sign of Empire presence here.”
“I understand. He’s lost nearly everything. But I assure you, and I will assure him when he’s found that Caspagir is not helping the Empire.” A little self-mocking smirk teased one corner of his mouth. “But I’m not foolish enough to think that Empire spies aren’t within my city. We are doing what we can to root them out.”
“And what would happen if Caelan and Drayce were mistaken for Empire spies?”
Shey’s face went pale, and all laughter left his eyes. “For their sake, I pray that does not happen.”
15
Caelan Talos
Caelan slumped on the hard, metal bench and glared at the bars in front of him. He was in jail. Yes, it wasn’t bad enough that his country had been invaded, his mother killed, and the Godstone stolen, but he was now sitting in a Caspagir jail with his best friend.
Hands down, the worst week of his life.
The Caspagir guards had made quick work of bringing them to a nondescript building that did not look like the police headquarters for Sirelis. No, this was definitely a military installation within the city for people who were suspected of being Empire spies.
Upon arriving, they were separated and questioned. Luckily, they’d gotten their stories worked out long prior to arriving in Sirelis. Cael and Dray were just a pair of friends traveling across Caspagir from Erya as part of a final hurrah before returning to the university for their last year of classes. Both of them still appeared young enough to pass for college students, even though both he and Drayce had been out for a few years.
Neither of them would give up their real names until Caelan decided they had no choice. And Caelan fully believed that nothing would pull the truth out of Drayce. His friend would die protecting his prince, which was what scared Caelan so thoroughly. He wasn’t going to let Drayce die over this. Caelan would admit to who they were to protect Drayce.
The only problem was convincing them that he really was the prince of Erya. He had no identification on him whatsoever.
After a couple of hours of relentless questioning, they were both permitted a phone call, but neither took the chance. They couldn’t risk calling Eno or Rayne, giving away their friends to the Caspagir military. They had to know it if was safe first.
The only thing that had sort of worked in their favor was the fact that whatever energy was flowing from the lighthouse had zapped both his and Drayce’s cell phone batteries. Last he saw when they were confiscated, some poor grunt was scrambling to find a matching charging cable so they could access the phones.
They’d been a little roughly handled, but they hadn’t been treated too badly so far. They were both shoved into the same cell and the door slammed shut behind them. Of course, Caelan knew that the military were hoping to hear them talking about something incriminating.
Drayce paced in front of the bars for the hundredth time, glancing down the corridor in one direction and then the other. The walls were concrete and painted the most unexpected shade of seafoam green as if the soothing color put prisoners at ease in their final minutes of life. The bars were painted a darker shade of blue like a stormy sky.
Besides the single metal bunk, there was also a wood table pushed against the wall like a desk and a rickety wooden chair. There was a toilet as well that looked at least moderately clean, but Caelan was hoping to get out of there first, skipping the need to use it altogether.
