Page 245

Yes! You clever witch.

It was almost too easy, but Lunara still wanted to crow to the damned moons.

Instead, she searched the circular room. “Where are you, Orion?”

In the furthest reaches opposite her, he stood. “Here, Blessed Keeper.”

Lunara misted over to him, glad he was only part of the Elder Tier, and thus not possibly one of the seventeen. “Hello, my friend. May I?”

He nodded and she pulled him into the ether, depositing him beside Vann before retaking her seat. “This is Orion the Silkwright. I’ve never met anyone with a greater grasp on material. He will provide whatever you require. Your single favor is agreed to, as well. Deal?”

Vann grinned. “Deal.”

For once, the deafening silence was utterly gratifying.

And so it went for the next few days.

Lunara spent the mornings in Nachthelliae, dealing with everything from the mind-numbing to the horrific. Trying to learn. To be better. To not gag every time the Hollow doors opened and she was assaulted by incense. To ignore the anxious vise squeezing tighter and tighter around her lungs with every moment she spent in their presence, constantly reminded of all that was torn from her at their inaction. To follow Araxis’s instructions without wrapping her hands around his infuriating neck and choking the bleeding life out of him.

She spent her evenings following him and some of the others, watching from the ether to better grasp how it all really worked while trying not to worry about those seventeen votes for Yea.

But mostly…doing everything in her power not to think about Brand.

Not to focus too hard on the silence in their bond and the ache that persisted in her chest. To ignore the screaming voice telling her to go to him. To give it up. That he needed her and she was neglecting him in favor of the damned Elder Council and her duties as Keeper.

It was easy when she was busy, but the afternoons among his brethren were gut wrenching. The nights were next to impossible—until they morphed and shifted into something so unbearable that she couldn’t take it anymore.

Pacing back and forth in front of their chamber fireplace, Lunara spun on Fern. “It’s been more than a week,” she said. “I know Araxis says he’s fine, but I need to see for myself.”

Fern picked at a thread on the blanket, already dressed for bed though it was barely suppertime. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? What if you interrupt something monumental and ruin everything because your arse doesn’t know how to be patient, eh?”

Promising not to sneak away without telling anyone might’ve been a mistake.

Damn it.

“I swear on the Sisters that I will not leave the ether.” She squished her cheeks together, practically crawling out of her own skin. “I swear on Brand’s life! I just need to see him.”

Fern nodded and scooted backwards, patting the mattress. “Alright then, come on. Get comfy, I’ll watch over…not you.”

“You aren’t going to insist on coming with me?”

“Fuck no.” Fern feigned a gag. “I don’t need to be in the middle of all that hopeless yearning. It was fun when the two of you were fighting. Now, it’s exhausting. I’ll be glad when it’s over and we can all move on.”

Lunara stifled a manic squeal and hopped onto the bed, burrowing in. “Thank you. I adore you.”

“Don’t thank me until you’re back safe and sound, pixie tit.” She waved her hand. “All the usual threats, I’ll kill you if you die, don’t be fucking stupid, so on and so forth. I adore you, too. Be safe, eh?”

“I’ll only be a minute. One look. Just long enough to know he’s well.”

Lunara rubbed her fingers together and left her likeness behind, leaping into the ether.

It was odd. She couldn’t bring herself to go straight into the cottage, as if it wasn’t really hers anymore and doing so would be a violation. At least, for the time being. Once he let her back in, it would be different.

She’d only look in there if he wasn’t anywhere else.

From the space between, Lunara flitted around her chunk of the Northern Forest, its hushed wilds offering her a little of their peace. She checked the garden, which was boasting quite an impressive pile of cut logs, neatly stacked under an overhang that wasn’t there before. The infinite lake was stunning as usual, but empty, and there was nothing at the portal. Nothing on the paths.

She was about to give up and start peering in windows when she saw the faintest flash of auburn through a break in the bush, only a dozen or so yards into the tree line from the back of her cottage.