Page 141 of Thief of Souls
No more lies.
Together.
Trust.
I know what I have to do now.
Brushing a kiss against his temples, I turn and head for the horn.
I have to give him the horn.
Drawing my robe over my naked body, I clean up as best I can in the wash chambers, dress in my leathers, and then Sift out into the night to where I’ve hidden it.
The grotto is silent and dark now the wedding is over and I doubt any of the revelers will linger here. Not while Malechus is dead. Not while Mistmark’s prognosis is so uncertain.Iknow he’s going to survive, but no one else knows that.
I light the torch that guards the heavy stone sarcophagus that Soraya was trapped in, staring at the carvings on the tomb. It was the safest place to leave it. The stone lid’s too heavy to shift by mortal hands, and Falion—the only other fae who might be able to Sift through the stone and retrieve the box—told me the horn is mine now.
“The weight of its being rests on your shoulders now,”he’d said.“Mistmark and I are done with it.”
I don’t know what that means, but I’m fairly certain he never wants to see it again.
I Sift through the stone, releasing a sigh of relief when I find the box untouched. The second I reform, I dart a glance around the room, but there’s no one here. The hairs down the back of my spine lift, but that’s not unusual, nor is the pounding of my heart.
Time to get out of here….
Except that whispering sensation that filled my chest is gone. No disciplined thief would ever take the time to check the loot right in the middle of a heist, but doubt pools through me like fermented wine.
Just one little look…. When the fate of the world lies in your hands it pays to be—
The chest is empty.
Empty.
“What the fuck?” I blurt, scrubbing my hand over the insides of the box I found. No horn.
The breath explodes out of me.No. How did this happen? Who took it?
I jerk the lid down sharply, but a sound behind me steals my attention.
There’s a shadow rippling across the walls.
Kicking the box out of the way, I turn to face the intruder, both knives slipping into my hands. “Show yourself.”
Blue skirts slip into the pool of light, and then a woman steps forward, her cheeks gaunt and her arms wrapped around her. I have several inches on her, and there’s no sign of a weapon, but that doesn’t still my suddenly racing heart.
“Ismena?” What is she doing down here? How did she even get in? As far as I know, the grotto is locked and guarded.
There’s something broken about her eyes. Something fractured. “I wish I’d never met you,” she hisses. “I wish she’d killedyouand not Narcissa.”
Calliope.
“Look,” I start, lowering my knives. “Everyone wants to forget what happened at the Court of Dreams. You think I enjoyed it—?”
“I think you’re a lying bitch,” she spits, “who ruined my life.”
“I was inclined to be tolerant, because you don’t seem at all yourself right now, but I’ve had enough. It’s been a tremendously shitty day. I didn’truin your life. You think you had a chance with Keir? He didn’t evennoticeyou. Even now the extent of his feelings toward you seem to be guilt. I never stole him from you. I didn’t ruin anything. Because it didn’t exist, except for whatever ridiculous notion is playing through your—”
“You think this has anything to do with Keir?” she half screams.
