“We’re not sure he wants to be found.” Draven’s frosted blue eyes were full of sympathy.
Their attitude and dismissal irked her, and she turned on her heel, resuming her walk to the bathroom. “You’re wrong.” She knew in her bones that he would have returned a long time ago if he wanted to have anything to do with his own people.
Both guys looked resigned, and she couldn’t help but smile. “Think of it this way…you get to sneak around the castle while outsmarting and eluding the elves. Doesn’t that sound like fun?”
If anything, they appeared less than thrilled at the idea, no doubt displeased at the idea of her putting herself in danger. They were smart, though. They didn’t actually say anything…at least not where she could hear them.
They passed a room where a few of the elves were practicing with their weapons, each of them moving in sync. Even their training lacked passion. If it came to a fight between the two groups, Morgan had no doubt the assassins would be able to defeat the elves despite more than half of the students being untrained and the complete lack of weapons.
Not even one of the elves offered to help teach or practiced with the students.
Dickheads.
“They run this place with only a skeleton crew.” The guys shared a look at her speculative tone, and she shrugged. “What? Just in case we need to leave in a hurry. The resistance would be minimal. This place gives me the creeps. I would rather face the flesh-eating fog than stay here.”
Ryder’s eyebrows lowered dangerously. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s just a feeling.” Morgan shook her head. It was more than that. “Do you know they’re hunting creatures out in the woods?” The weight of the warm stone against her side and the ache along her back were a dark reminder.
“Kincade and Ascher should be back soon.” Draven scowled as he surveyed the room again, searching for new threats and possible escape routes. “We can discuss our options then.”
Discussing them made her realize that Kincade and Ascher weren’t the only two missing. She hadn’t seen Ward since entering the castle, and she couldn’t help wondering what happened to him.
She wasn’t sure how she felt having him out of her sight. Everything about him spoke of danger—she just wished she knew whether he posed a threat to her and her people.
Being stranded in the primordial realm should have left her as uneasy as the rest of them, but the place honestly felt like coming home. Magic infused the very air, and every breath felt invigorating.
Too bad she knew shit about magic.
The guys had been putting off allowing her to train with magic, and what little she had learned, backfired when she practiced casting spells. Her magic didn’t seem to work the way anyone else’s did.
Maybe it was time to experiment on her own.
“I’ve been trying to open a portal home, but all my efforts have been in vain. Has anyone else been able to contact the Academy?”
“It’s been overrun. It’s no longer safe to return.” Draven shook his head, appearing a little lost. “The Academy has fallen.”
Morgan suddenly realized that while she had taken up residence there for only a few months, the Academy had been their home for years. She stopped outside the bathroom door, not sure how to react to the loss they must be feeling.
She took a deep breath, then spun and gave them both a quick, one-arm hug. “I’m sorry you lost your home.”
Draven stiffened slightly, then awkwardly curled his arms around her. “Don’t worry about it. They won’t be able to hold the Academy forever.”
Ryder didn’t hesitate to snuggle closer, running his hand slowly down her back before reluctantly stepping back. She missed their warmth immediately.
Unable to face either one of them, fighting a blush at the way their touch left her skin tingling, she escaped to the bathroom.
She washed her hands, splashed water on her heated face, but the more time that passed, the more her unease grew. It felt like a cage door was about to swing shut behind her.
She could no longer pretend nothing was wrong.
While she might have to bide her time for Ascher and Kincade to return, it didn’t mean she had to sit on her hands and do nothing.
It was time to track down Atlas.
But first…
She untucked her camisole, snatching up the little gargoyle statue before it could tumble to the floor.
Instead of rock, her fingertips met soft, gray leathery skin. The tips of the wings were frosted a pale gold, as if the bird had dusted tiny specs of gold onto the statue. The palm-sized gargoyle dog was now twice the size as when she first touched it.
Meaning it had been growing ever since they entered the void.
Blazed in the center of his chest was the tiniest image of a burning phoenix, the edges of its wings a deep yellow, rippling into a deep, burnt red toward the center, a flame she could have sworn flickered even as she watched, making the little beast appear to be breathing.
“Holy shit.”
At the sound of her voice, the dog blinked up at her sleepily, his bright eyes the red of live coals, as if lit from within by pure lava. The bird had somehow merged with the hound. She couldn’t tell where one magic ended and the other began.
“Phoenix?”
He snorted, batting at his nose, giving her a bashful look over the tops of his large feet, and she shook her head. “Okay, not your name.”
He yawned, revealing thick fangs, then gave her a toothy smile when he noticed her watching.
“Impish little bugger, aren’t you?” She was utterly charmed. “I’m going to call you Loki.”
The snout twitched faintly, his little butt wiggled a tad, his tail curling around her fingers, as if approving his name.
The small movement seemed to exhaust him.
The burnt red and deep yellow flame on his chest flickered once more.
In response, heat flared up her back, and she sucked in a startled breath.
She turned her back to the mirror and slowly lifted up the bottom of her shirt and camisole.
Embossed across her back was a full phoenix, his wings spread wide, his drab feathers replaced by pure fire, the colors almost metallic as they glimmered under the light. Reds, golds and yellows were fanned over Morgan’s ribs, the very tips tinged with green and blue, shimmering like the flames were actually moving. Dozens of long tail feathers curled down her spine, the endings blooming out into a dramatic display of flames.
“Holy fuck.”
That explained what happened to the bird…or not.
She didn’t have a clue what it meant, other than they were all three tied together.
She probed the edges of the bird, only to have the wings flutter in agitation, his claws gouging in her back, as if staking claim. A single drop of blood beaded up under one of his claws.
She jerked her hand back, and the claws slowly unclenched from digging into her flesh. “Okay, you don’t feel safe here. Neither do I.”
Unfortunately, they were both trapped.
Very gently, she rolled her shirt back down, completely flummoxed. A hint of metal caught her eye, and she pulled out her necklace to see the end had formed a tarnished, old skeleton key.
But what did it unlock?
“You okay in there?”
She jumped at Draven’s concerned voice, and shoved the necklace back down her shirt. She quickly snatched up the gargoyle, held it for a moment, uncertain what to do with him, then sighed and shoved him back down her camisole, too. “Sorry, little dude.”
He wiggled around to find a comfortable spot, snuggling against her side, curling around her until the little beastie was hugging her close, leaving a small, nearly indistinguishable lump under her shirt. For better or worse, they were tied together until she could figure out what the hell had actually happened.
Since she wasn’t in any immediate danger, she would worry about herself later, after she had a chance to reunite with her team and figure out what the blazes was happening in the primordial realm.