One of the women giggled. “He does, but our hands?” She shared a glance with the dark-haired one. “Are not quite as full.”
Interest sparked as the man chuckled, leaning in to kiss the shorter woman on her cheek, the one who spoke. I opened my senses just a little. They . . . they were a couple. The three of them.
What a lucky man.
“I’m on the way to meet someone,” I lied. “But I wish you good Feasts.”
“What a shame,” the man murmured, bowing elaborately. “Happy Feasts.”
I murmured the same, hanging back as the trio moved farther down the path. Then I kept walking, this time following two sōls circling one another as my mind alternated between the vision, what Maven had shared, and Claude’s disappearance. My thoughts strayed, though, to him. It was kind of hard for them not to when I was in the gardens, and the breeze stirred up the scent of catmint.
Would Thorne return tomorrow? Then what? I would be his? But wasn’t I already—
“Stop,” I whispered, refusing to let that thought even finish. My stomach tumbled nonetheless as I shook my head.
The only thing that I needed to think about that concerned Thorne was telling him about having met before.
As I neared the wisteria trees, I stopped and looked up. Stars blanketed the sky. It was such a . . . a strange coincidence that all of this was happening at the same time.
Thorne’s sudden appearance, fulfilling a twelve-year-old premonition. My near-visceral reaction to him. His interest in me that he couldn’t explain and that I felt went beyond him not realizing we’d met before. My intuition stopping me from telling him. The Princess of Visalia and the Westlands’ Iron Knights making a move on Archwood. Learning that lowborn could descend from Hyhborn. Claude’s absence. The vision. Hymel. That smiling lord who resembled Lord Samriel. All of it happening at the same time, and I . . .
I didn’t believe in coincidences.
Or fate.
I lowered my gaze to the still lilac blossoms. A faint tingle danced at the nape of my neck and then between my shoulder blades. Like a slumbering giant, my intuition sparked.
Everything is related.
All of it.
A warning.
A reckoning.
A promise of what was to come—
Pools of blood. Rivers of it streaming between still limbs, seeping into gold veining. Bare arms with deep gouges. So many of them, their mouths gaping open in frozen, silent horror. Brocade and jewel-encrusted masks torn, strewn across the floor. Silver and sapphire drenched in blood. And this time there were screams. Screams of pain. Screams of death—
I jerked out of the vision just as the wisteria limbs began to shudder, swaying in the absence of any sort of breeze.
Breath catching, I took a step back. A shiver coursed down my spine as tiny bumps prickled my skin. Hair along the nape of my neck rose as an icy, unnatural energy built in the air. I looked up to see what looked like dark clouds gathering in the sky, blotting out the stars.
My muscles seized for a moment and then instinct kicked in, fueled by the heightened sense of intuition. I spun and took off, running faster than I ever had through the maze of pathways as the streams of moonlight faded and disappeared.
Something is coming.
I could feel it building in the air— in the sudden silence and growing darkness— and I didn’t think what was filling the sky was clouds. Every part of my being was focused on finding Grady, and I didn’t dare waste time by going for the bridge. Knowing the levels were low this time of year, I half slipped, half ran down the muddy bank. Water splashed as I stomped through the shallow stream, losing a shoe in the process. I kept going, reaching the other side, the hem of my gown soaked and clinging to my legs. I climbed the short hill, swallowing a cry as sharp rock cut through the thin sole of my remaining shoe, slicing into my skin.
I didn’t let that slow me down. I flew across the lawn, startling many of those who were on the ground, their bodies pressed tightly together.
“Get inside,” I screamed, dodging others who were rising to look at the sky. “Get inside now!”
I had no idea if anyone was listening as I stumbled, nearly falling. Had Naomi listened to me? I hadn’t seen her all day, and gods, I hoped so, but my heart lurched, because I still saw that bloodied sapphire necklace.
Panting, I raced up the wide steps of the Baron’s manor, and I was mere inches from the doors when the clouds fell from the sky in a chorus of wings beating at the air.
Then the screams of pain— the screams of death— began.
CHAPTER 34
It was happening. The vision. I knew it.