“Where’s Demos and Edgar?” I asked, changing the subject. “I haven’t seen them around this morning. And both of them usually wake early.”
He took a sip from his cup and put it down. “They’re going over the distraction plan for the libraries with The Red’s forces.”
I rubbed my eyes.
“Didn’t sleep well, huh?”
“No.” I yawned again. The air between us was as thick as the porridge in the bowl beside my plate. Though he’d apologized for getting angry with me, I still felt the sting of it. I didn’t like him scolding me as if I were a child. I’d faced many dangers before. Even if I was scared, I was a Sentinel born with the natural ability to fight, armed with more than one battle globe.
He gave me his signature cocky smile. The one a little higher on one side of his mouth than the other. “You could’ve slept in my room.”
“Yeah, thank you, but no.” I shoved a fork full of egg in my mouth.
“What? Are my arms not warm enough for you?”
“Oh, they’re warm, all right,” I said, going back to poking at my eggs. “I’m just not sure I could handle myself.”
“I detect sarcasm in your tone,” he said and took a bite of his potatoes.
I picked up a slice of toast, tore off a piece, and dipped it in the egg yolk. “Sorry. I just need some time alone. I’m worried about everyone. It feels like I’m juggling a bunch of globes and any moment they’re all going to fall around me.” I swung my leg over the stump and faced him. “It’s everyone. Pop, Nana, Nick, Afton, Carrig, Sinead, Royston…Uncle Philip. I see them all ready to drop. And which ones do I catch? I can’t grab them all at the same time.” I’d omitted Arik’s name, but I was concerned for him, and for Emily.
Bastien wrapped his arms around me, and I rested my head on his shoulder. “I’ll help you catch them. So will Demos. Lei and Jaran will be there, as well. You’re not alone, Gianna.”
I tilted my head to look at him. He gently kissed my lips, and my heart finally forgave him.
“I’m most terrified of losing you,” I said.
He flashed a crooked smile. “Never going to happen.”
“Are you always so sure of everything?”
“Not everything,” he said. “I doubted you would ever come to your senses and realize I was the better man for you.”
“You never doubted that.”
“All right.” He laughed. “I knew you’d come around. Besides, who could resist me?”
I laughed that time. “You’re so full of yourself sometimes.”
“I was raised to never lie, weren’t you?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Then tell me a truth about yourself.” Amusement sparkled in his eyes and flipped my stomach.
This game made me uneasy. “I have a mean uppercut and knee strike.”
He frowned. “How about something about you, not something you can do.”
“I have thick hair.”
He stifled a laugh. “This makes you uncomfortable, doesn’t it?”
“So uncomfortable.”
“How about I start?”
“Okay.”
“I once caught the pantry on fire,” he said. “Odil and I were nine and eight, respectively. He warned me not to play with matches. My brother was my best friend growing up. I looked up to him. Then he changed, became more self-centered. I miss the Odil from our youth. It crushes my heart to see how he’s turned out.”
“That has to be hard,” I said.
“Now you.”
“I wish my mother was still alive. She’s a shadow in my mind. I’m not sure which memories are my own and which are ones I’ve made up from the photographs and videos I’ve seen of her.” I glanced away, hiding the sadness noticeable in my eyes.
“That must be difficult.” He lifted my chin and kissed me again, his lips soft and tender. “All right, then, I’ll stop torturing you.”
Screams broke out somewhere in the distance, and I pulled away from him. “That can’t be good.”
Bastien scrambled off the stump at the same time as I grabbed my scabbard and jumped to my feet. We dashed out of the dining tent. Shouts and screams came from the village. We ran toward the sound.
I struggled to strap my scabbard to my waist as we sprinted up the hill. It slipped a couple of times before I got the buckle fastened. The closer we got to the area, the more my heart sank. It was coming from the curer’s building.
Oh no. Carrig.
The Red stopped me before I could charge inside.
“Let me through.” I pushed against him. “Carrig!”
“What is happening in there?” Bastien asked.
“A mad woman is inside,” The Red said. “The coven’s guards are handling it.”
“That won’t do. They haven’t any magic.” Bastien brushed by him and produced an electric charge in his upturned hand.
I hurried behind him. A Laniar with dark hair falling to his shoulders blocked the entry into the room. Beside him was a Djallican girl, not much older than me, with small horns sticking out of her wide forehead, long earlobes, and short spikey hair the color of cinnamon. The two guards pointed their swords at a woman whose face I couldn’t see with the uniformed bodies blocking my view.
“Let us through,” Bastien commanded.
The guards glanced behind them and, spotting the electricity in Bastien’s hand, stepped aside.
“Accendere il ghiaccio.” I ignited an ice globe and weaved around the guards, almost tripping when I saw the woman. Fear grabbed my breath, and I gasped.
Lorelle. She stood over Carrig, a large dagger to his throat. I hadn’t seen her since she hit me with an ancient spell that stole my truth globe from me. She had murdered my aunt Eileen and posed as her to spy on Nana and to find me.
“Step away from him, Lorelle,” I warned, holding my globe up higher for her to see.
Her screeching laugh scratched across my scalp and rattled down my bones. “I’m not Lorelle. Her brain was a blank canvas after the scryers had their way with her. Easy for me to move in. Usually, I can only claim the mind of a magical child, but here I am in the shell of a Fey. Drop your magic, or I’ll cut him.”
I stumbled back, fear choking my throat. Not Lorelle?
Bastien lowered his hands, the electric spark between them snuffing out, but I refused to bust my globe. I processed the information she’d given us.
The scryers had used their magic to gain information on Conemar after Lorelle’s arrest for trying to destroy me. If she wasn’t Lorelle, then who was she? And it hit me.
No. It can’t be. But the clues in her statement gave me all I needed to know who she was.
“What do you want with Carrig, Ruth Ann?”
“Conemar was right,” she said. “You are a smart little girl, aren’t you?”
Ruth Ann was a Bane Witch from Branford, Connecticut, who had been sentenced to death during the witch trials in the sixteen hundreds.
“You didn’t answer me. Why Carrig? He isn’t a threat to anyone in his state.”
“He may wake up. He is the leader of the Sentinels and is too powerful and persuasive to let live. Too much of a risk for Conemar.” Her grin looked sinister, and her eyes held evil, her hand lifting a little and the blade leaving Carrig’s neck.