Ursula leaned forward until her chest was inches from Sotz’s neck. The position felt a bit more unstable. But when she began to shift her weight with each beat of Sotz’s wings, she saw that Bael was right. The ride smoothed out into a smooth glide.
“That’s it,” said Bael. He and Vesperella swooped under her and Sotz. With two great beats of Vesperella’s wings, he took the lead. “Follow me!”
Ursula marveled at his change in demeanor. He seemed so comfortable on the bat, like he actually enjoyed life. It was hard to believe this was the same man who’d slit Massu’s throat just hours ago.
Bael led her and Sotz in a great curving turn back toward the rooftop. When they were a hundred feet away, Bael and Vesperella dove for the roof at a terrifying speed. At the last instant, Vesperella spread her wings, landing gracefully on the marble.
Now he’s just showing off. She leaned forward to whisper in Sotz’s ear. “We got this, big guy.” She tried to bring the bat in slowly, but as the roof rose to meet them, she instinctively leaned back. Sotz tensed as he tried to decide whether to land or to pull back up into the air. He chose landing, but they hit the roof with a jerk that knocked her straight from his back. She slammed against the marble, rolling a few times before coming to rest on her back.
When she opened her eyes, Bael stood over her, a look of concern on his face. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” Still lying flat on her back, Ursula brushed the dust from her jacket.
“Good, because you must be in one piece for this evening. We have been invited to dinner at Asta with the lords and their wives.”
Chapter 29
A few hours later, Ursula and Bael stepped down from his carriage and onto the marble, on the very top level of the crystal spire. The sun burned bright in a black sky—thankfully, not at its zenith, yet.
She wore a gown of shimmering white silk, with a plunging backline, now covered by a pale blue cloak.
She stole a quick glance at Bael. “Remind me again why we’re here?”
“As lord, I’m required to attend dinners at the spire.”
She arched an eyebrow. “And remind me why I needed to come?”
“Because your presence will distract everyone enough that I won’t need to speak to anyone.”
She cocked her head, the wind whipping through her hair. “I’m not sure that I distract everyone. I think that’s just you.”
He shook his head slowly. “Everyone watches you.”
That’s disturbing. Steeling her nerves, she glanced out at the dancing swarms of lunar moths. Asta’s purple light shone through their wings, as they wove and dodged silently around the spire. For some bizarre reason, she felt strangely at home here. At peace.
She reached into her cloak pocket, rolling the silver ring around in the palm of her hand.
“We should enter,” said Bael.
She turned to see him pulling open a black door that led into a dark hall. She stepped inside, walking at Bael’s side. Some insane impulse overtook her, and she slid her arm through his.
She felt his muscle tense as she touched his elbow, but he kept silent.
The hallway opened into an enormous rectangular hall, the walls painted silver. A spray of ravens had been painted over one of the walls. Black chandeliers, lit with candles, hung from ceiling above two long, onyx tables.
The lords sat in silver chairs around the table—apart from Hothgar, who sat in an enormous, throne-like chair at the head. The wives sat at the other table.
A small oneiroi servant bustled up to Ursula, beckoning her forward. “This way, milady.”
The servant led her to an open seat at the wives’ table, then held out her hand for Ursula’s cloak.
Ursula pulled it off. “I’ll keep it with me, thank you.” She wanted to keep the silver ring as close as possible. She’d need her little good luck charm to get through tonight.
As she draped her cloak over the chair, a hush fell over the group. Eleven pairs of eyes locked directly on her, taking in her pearly gown. And as before, she was seated near Viking, Goth Princess, and Talons.
She glanced at Viking, dressed in a sea-green gown. A deep purple bruise discolored her chin. She nodded to Ursula.
The other women weren’t quite so friendly. Goth Princess turned away, showing Ursula her pale back, clad in black lace.
Talons scowled at Ursula, tapping a long red claw on her silver goblet. Talons’s silver hair tumbled over a violet gown. “Who invited the dog?”
Ursula narrowed her eyes. “The name is Ursula.”
Viking twirled her champagne flute, shooting a sharp look to Talons. “Easy, Budsturga. We’re not supposed to make a scene.”
So that was Talons’s name—Budsturga.
Goth Princess shot her a dark look. “It upsets the balance to have a human in here. And the smell is unbearable.”
Ursula cocked her head. You want to do catty? I know how to do catty. “That’s funny. Your husband Abrax doesn’t think I’m human. Apparently, that’s what he likes about me.”
Princess glared. “He has a perverse fascination with freaks.”