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She slid her hand from mine and sighed. “I am afraid not. And for the sake of your child, I pray that the gods will tire of toying with us.”
“Me, too.”
“As for the symptoms you’ve been suffering … there is a healer that you might inquire about.” Stuffing her hand down into the cushion of the bench, she pulled out a card, which she handed off to me.
Frowning, I examined the crack of the cushion, wondering what else was stuffed there, then glanced at the name on the card, embossed in red ink. “Kezhurah?”
“She is quite knowledgeable.”
“How do I contact her?”
“A scrying mirror is one way. However, if you don’t have a scrying mirror, somecret’calatieszwill do.”
I didn’t even want to attempt what she’d said, seeing as I’d have surely butchered the word. “What is that?”
“Summoning chalk. Draw a circle on the wall, write her name in the circle. Place your hand over her name and speak it aloud.”
“Wow. Like the supernatural version of Facetiming.”
Wearing a confused expression, she tipped her head. “I’m sorry?”
“Nothing.” I lifted the card between us. “Okay, I’ll look into her. Thank you for this. For everything really.”
Her eyes softened with a smile. “You are my Lustina reborn. I would do anything for you, dear. Come see me when that baby arrives.”
“I will.” I pushed up from my seat and followed the same path down the creepy stairwell, to the wall that moved on its own. On opening, I caught a flash of purple as Vespyr jumped around on a sharp exhale. “Holy shit! It does move!”
“Told you.” Tucking the card into my dress pocket, I took the lead back down the rickety staircase to the main floor, with Vespyr at my heels.
When I pushed through the entrance, I was greeted by a thick, white fog. One so dense, I couldn’t see past my own hand, while I held it outstretched. Tiny white and gray flecks of what appeared to be ash settled onto my palm, and when I looked up, the sky had disappeared behind the obscure vapor. I turned back toward the bookstore to find nothing but fog. Even as I reached out my hand for the door that I recalled being no more than two steps away, my fingertips met nothing but air.
“Vaszhago!” I called out, having clearly lost my bearings. “Where are you?”
“Farryn?” The sound of Vespyr’s voice had grown alarmingly distant, and I spun around, scanning for her purple hair.
An intense burn flared in my eyes, and the mist in them made it nearly impossible to see. “Vespyr! Vaszhago!”
No one answered back.
A shadowy figure moved toward me. One I couldn’t quite make out. “Vaszhago?” I backed myself away, unsure of who it was, but it advanced faster than I could escape it. Two wrinkled hands reached out, their palms resting against my belly, and a breath later, I was staring into the black eyes of an old woman. She wore a ratted hood over straggly, white hair that framed a face I somehow vaguely recognized. From where?
Eyes, black and soulless. Lips peeled back to a wicked smile over yellowing teeth. Before I could react, the sound of awhooshhit the air. A flash of metal slipped between us. And I didn’t so much as utter a word, beforethe old woman let out a deep guttural scream that sent a chill down the back of my spine. She held up two bloody stumps where her hands were a moment before, the sight of them making my knees weak and my chest cold with queasiness.
As she lurched toward me, I jumped back seconds before her body burst into flames.
A cold sensation swept over me. I panted hard through my nose in a failed attempt to stave off the panic rising up in my throat.
The fog lifted to reveal Vaszhago standing alongside me, holding the sword that’d severed her hands like a hot blade through silk. I stumbled backward, but he caught me before I hit the ground. Another set of arms wrapped around me, those ones belonged to Vespyr, and she and Vaszhago both carried me back toward the carriage.
“What the hell was that?” I asked, gently pushing their hands away to regain my composure as I climbed onto the carriage bench.
“Not human,” Vaszhago answered.
33
JERICHO
I’d followed along the Vendaris River for most of the night, my thoughts wound up in the succubus, which I had brutally slain and left for dead. Voices in my head had argued that she was not Farryn and deserving of her fate as an imposter, but it didn’t matter. I had taken another life.
