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“I have.” His lips thinned out, his eyes fixed on the rumpled rug.
“Once. Ten years ago.”
14
ANARIA
Istood on the balcony outside the glass doors of the bedroom I’d claimed and shook out the blanket, choking on the dust as I watched Raz and Tavion prowl along the edge of the dead, tangled gardens, while out in the trees I caught a flash of Tristan’s red hair.
I didn’t know why the Oracle chose this place as our rendezvous point, how the palace factored into her long, drawn-out game, but I wouldn’t put it past her to have removed Lord and Lady Wynter ten years ago in anticipation of tonight’s meeting.
The old spider gave new meaning tolong-held plans.
All evening, the stone weighed heavy in my pocket.
A reminder of how vulnerable we were right now, and how little I trusted Torin. Whatever the Oracle wanted from us, Torin kept her own secrets, and while she claimed to be our ally, she was not our friend.
We were hours away from our meeting, and I hated that we still did not know why we were here.
What the Oracle wanted.
What she would demand of us.
I leaned on the banister and let the setting sun warm my face. If we knew anything of the Oracle’s plans, we could stay one step ahead of her, but getting into that twisted head of hers would be impossible. I went inside and made the bed, tucked in the corners of the sheets, and stepped back.We’d slept in worse, I decided, already getting that giddy anticipation of sharing a real bed with Raz for an entire night.
But before that happened, we had to decipher what happened in that crypt.
Because that vision had been…
A door slammed down below, and I recognized Raziel’s quick, confident footsteps, followed by Tavion’s nearly silent ones. I ran my finger over the smooth stone I’d shoved deep into my pants pocket, a sense of calm creeping through me as I pondered what the Oracle wanted.
For us to fight her war, of course.
But something told me her motives ran deeper, and I headed downstairs to find out how much the others knew. More than me, I’d bet. Especially Tavion, who was hiding something.
I found Raziel in what had once been a grand salon. The furniture was pushed together into the center of the room, the drapes tattered at the bottoms, panes of glass missing in the windows. The carpets smelled of mildew where the rain had soaked them over and over, the ruined wood floors curled up along that edge of the room.
This place must have been beautiful once. Loved, even, from the way the carpets matched the faded furniture and the family pictures that now hung crooked on the walls. Sad, really, the toll that ten years of neglect had on a castle that looked to be hundreds of years old.
“Perimeter’s secure. Tristan’s making a final pass, then he’ll be in.” I buried myself in Raz’s embrace, drinking in his strength, but mostly his warmth since I was freezing. “There’s no hot water or faelights, so this will be a rough couple of days. But I’ll make us a fire.”
“We’ve been through worse,” I murmured, wanting to stay like this forever. Just being held made me feel safe. Even though safety was only an illusion, pretending was still nice. “We should talk about what happened in the crypt. Before the Oracle arrives tomorrow.”
“We know.” Tavion shed his coat, tossing it on the nearest chair. “Tristan’s headed in.” Tavion crossed to a fancy, carved cabinet and opened the doors to reveal bottles of liquor. “Not bad, considering no one’s been here in years. Want a glass?”
“One,” Raz said quietly, brushing his lips over my hair. “We have to be sharp when she arrives. Fuck knows what she wants.”
“I’m not doing this completely sober, I can tell you that,” Tavion muttered, pouring out four glasses of a pale amber liquid, reaching one of them out to me. I took it cautiously. I’d never had a proper drink before, and the second I touched my tongue to the liquor, I immediately regretted my choice.
“That’s the most awful thing I’ve ever tasted.” I watched in amazement as Raz and Tavion clinked their glasses together before taking a healthy sip with not so much as a grimace. I set my glass down and the liquid hadn’t even stopped moving before Tavion tipped it into his glass with a wink.
“It’s an acquired taste.” Raziel sipped delicately, his eyes shining. “Gods, this is fucking good. Menrovian?”
Tavion inspected the label and nodded. “A hundred years old. Primo stuff, too.”
I shivered, remembering what had happened at Ravenshade Castle. Menrovian liquor had almost gotten me killed. No wonder the ghastly stuff tasted like death.
The front door slammed open, and Tristan appeared in a swirl of cold air. “You greedy sots. Starting without me is plain rude.” He took the glass Tavion shoved in his hand and drank the entire thing down. “Gods, that’s fucking good. Please tell me there’s more.”
