She would win the race, and Audric would sweep her into his arms, laughing. He would congratulate her, beaming with pride, and then leave her to dine privately with Ludivine, and a part of Rielle would die, as it always did when she was reminded of the simple, terrible truth of their engagement.
Rielle caught a scent on the wind—singed hair, scorched horseflesh.
It had been no dream.
How could she have done this?
How had she done this?
Her father was right. Tal was right. She should spend the rest of her life in a quiet room, dulled with poison. She could not be trusted.
She fell to her knees, her head spinning, and strong arms caught her. She felt a hand in her hair and lips hot against her forehead.
“Rielle,” Audric cried. “Rielle, God, you’re hurt. Stay with me. Look at me, please.”
Before blackness took her, she heard another voice—male and lovely and soft as shadow.
I think it’s time I said hello, said the voice. It felt something like a kiss, and it came from both far away and very near.
Then she knew nothing.
6
Eliana
“The Venteran capital, Orline, is a well-situated port city on the southeastern coast. Despite the sweltering heat and the occasional stench from the swamplands on the western border, I am forced to admit it boasts a certain unique beauty—a luxurious city of stone terraces, hidden courtyards, and hanging moss, hugged by a broad, brown river that begins two thousand miles north in the Venteran highlands.”
—Initial report of Lord Arkelion to His Holy Majesty, the Emperor of the Undying, upon successful seizure of Orline
February 13, Year 1010 of the Third Age
On the first night of the full moon, Eliana did not sleep. She donned her new mask, painted her lips crimson, and flung her favorite cloak about her shoulders—a little theatricality never hurt anyone—and disappeared into the night.
She took to the rooftops, to the hop shops that reeked of lachryma, to the red rooms owned by friendly madams. She spent a night drifting through the Barrens.
She watched, and she listened.
She sought out her usual informants—frightened rebels willing to betray Red Crown or useful opportunists who would play double agent for coin.
She asked questions and demanded answers. She threatened and coaxed.
Mostly, she threatened.
But she found nothing of the Wolf. Not a glimpse, not a whisper.
? ? ?
On the second night of the full moon, Eliana came home with a fist-size knot in her stomach and a dozen frantic questions in her mind.
Did the Wolf know she was tracking him? Was that why everything had gone quiet?
Was Rahzavel watching her?
Was this some sort of test?
Was she failing?
She sat on the terrace outside her room and watched the sunrise bleed the world red. Part of her longed to cross the gap between rooftops, sneak into Harkan’s room, wake him up with her mouth, and let him love her into oblivion.
But instead she sat still as a gargoyle, hood up and gloves on, and waited—and wondered.
If she didn’t find the Wolf, what would Rahzavel do?
And if she was hunting the Wolf, was he in turn hunting her?
? ? ?
On the last night of the full moon, Eliana came home with panic humming beneath her skin to find that someone had broken into her house.
When working, Eliana preferred to enter and exit the house via the tiny stone terrace outside her third-floor window. That way, the front entrance on the road remained undisturbed.
Tonight, though, her window was open. A thin strip of wood marked where the paint had been scraped off; someone had forced open the lock. There was a crack in the pane of glass.
As she stood frozen, she caught a scent on the air, just as she had the night of Quill’s capture—that same unbalanced sensation that had left her feeling thrown out of alignment with the world around her. A sour pressure sat heavy against her tongue and shoulders.
Someone was here. They were here, those masked girl-snatchers from the docks. She knew it with a gut certainty. The only times she had ever felt such a sensation were that night and this one.
Which mean that now her mother…
And Remy?
They only take women, Eliana told herself, her heart kicking frantically. They only take girls.
Sweat beaded along her hairline. She could get Harkan to help her, but by then it might be too late.
She dropped down to the second-floor terrace outside her mother’s room. The flowers of Rozen’s rooftop garden perfumed the air and turned Eliana’s stomach.
She found the window unlocked, which was odd. Her mother always locked the window before bed. She eased open the pane and slipped inside…and stopped.