Page 89 of Sanctuary of the Shadow
“Where is he?” Harrow shouted when she saw him, running over to grab Salizar’s arm. Ouro’s men were backing their boss, facing off with Salizar’s people—circus workers Harrow knew, though most of them were bloodied and injured.
Loren appeared at her side, a rag held against a wound on his chest. “Harrow—”
She ignored him utterly and spoke again to Salizar, finally pulling his attention from Ouro. “Where is he?”
Salizar’s eyes widened when he noticed her. He was likely wondering how she’d suddenly materialized in the middle of the room, and under normal circumstances, she would have understood his confusion. At the moment, however, it was the furthest thing from her mind.
“How did you—”
“Where is he?” Harrow repeated desperately.
But his eyes had traveled past Harrow to the woman behind her, and, if possible, they widened farther. “Who— Is that who I think it is?”
“Good afternoon, Salizar,” Nashira said, though the sky in the window behind her was pitch-black. “You’re late. Or you will be.”
“Late for what?”
The Ether Queen nodded contemplatively. “For you, yesterday was too early to understand. Today will work perfectly.”
Ouro was grinning, obviously enjoying Salizar’s bafflement. “Salizar, meet the Oracle, otherwise known as Queen Nashira.”
“Where did Dark Half get to?” Nashira asked.
Salizar looked utterly lost.
“She wants to know where the wraith is,” Ouro explained.
“He escaped.”
“He escaped?” the snake Hybrid hissed.
“Escaped to where?” Harrow asked.
“I’ve no idea,” Salizar replied. “When we arrived, he wasn’t under the influence of the dream spell as Darya assured me he would be. He attacked and then fled through the window, but not before I stabbed him with an enchanted blade. The wound won’t stop bleeding until it is cauterized with similarly enchanted steel. He’ll have no choice but to return when he realizes it.”
Harrow stifled a cry by covering her mouth.
“He’s a wraith,” Ouro said. “I doubt that’ll slow him down much.”
“He has a body that can bleed, and it will continue to do so until the enchantment is broken.”
Desperate now, she searched the room for clues. The blood everywhere horrified her. How injured had Raith been? Judging by the state of Salizar’s men, he’d given as good as he got. Her eyes caught on the little table that had somehow remained upright amid the chaos.
Her Seer cards sat atop it in a neat pile, save for one card lying faceup in front.
The Deep.
Her eyes filled with tears for the hundredth time that night. Raith had drawn it, she somehow knew. What had he felt when he pulled that card? Had he wished for Harrow’s help in deciphering it? Why had she denied him when he asked her to do a reading for him? Now, she’d give anything for that privilege. Now, she’d give anything for the chance to beg for his forgiveness. If she even deserved to have it.
A warm palm landed on her shoulder, and she turned to look into the Ether Queen’s eerie blue eyes. “It’s too late tomorrow,” she said sweetly, as if her gibberish was comforting. “Now he has to come to you.”
Oddly, it was. “How did you get us here?” Harrow asked, an idea forming.
“Ether transcends time and space. Or is it made of time and space?” She frowned. “Or was that only yesterday?”
“Do you know where Raith’s gone? Can you take me to him?”
But Nashira shook her head. “It was too late. It will be too late. Now he has to come to you.”
