Page 97 of Brimstone
Did he know somehow? About my father? No, he couldn’t have.
I closed the book and pinned it under my arm. “All right. I’ll take it to the forge. I’ll practice for an hour if you think that’ll make a difference—”
“I think practicing fortwohours would make an even bigger difference,” Foley said. “That way, you won’t pose such a threat to the whole court, will you?”
I turned away from Foley, fixing a mutinous glare at the male who I’d assumed would have my back. “You’re terrible, you know that?”
Lorreth gave me an apologetic shrug. “Sorry, Saeris. But he’s right.”
Whether Foley was right or wrong had no bearing on the situation. I set my jaw and made for the stairs that led back down into Ammontraíeth, fuming under my breath. I had almost reached the stairs when the bright kiss of pain stung the back of my neck. Hissing, I rubbed the point just below my hairline, which still hurt, and my fingers came away stained red.
Something had bitten me.
No, something hadcutme.
The source of the injury became apparent as the sound of rustling paper filled my ears. A stargazer flapped its paper wings a couple of feet away, hovering in place. My first instinct was to check its beak to see if there were any strands of long black hair hanging from its mouth, but there were none. Foley had gotten into my head, the bastard. I hated that I’d let it happen—but the paper birdhadattacked me, hadn’t it?
It was small, its body the length of my thumb. Its wings flapped so hard that they were a blur as the tiny thing drifted toward me and stilled again. It had no eyes. No features at all, really. It was a creature made of plain white paper, animated by magic, but I got the feeling it was trying to get my attention. I took another step backward toward the stairs, and the little stargazer followed again, rising so it hovered at eye level.
“What? You want something?” I asked it.
Over on the other side of the library, Lorreth and Foley were locked in a tense conversation. Neither noticed that I was still loitering at the top of the stairs. The bird zipped forward and plucked at the front of my shirt with its tiny beak. It wasn’t very strong. It barely had the strength to lift the fabric.
“You cut me,” I told it. “That wasn’t very polite.”
The bird rose above my head, executing a tight roll in the air before it descended back to eye level. Was that supposed to be an apology? I couldn’t tell. I didn’t have time to hang around and find out, either.
“Next time,” I told it. “I’ll come back and see you tomorrow.” If I didn’t get to the forge soon, half the night would have passed and I still wouldn’t have made any of the relics I’d promised Fisher. I backed away, stepping out of the library, down the first step—
The stargazer flew right at me. Its wing grazed my cheek, and a second later, a sting of pain lashed across my cheek. “Ow! What thefuck?” The bird’s momentum carried it forward, through the library’s door—where it fell out of the air, dead.
It landed on the fourth step of the stairs, stark white against the black stone. I picked it up, turning it over in my hands, marveling at the transformation that had taken place. As soon as it had left the boundaries of the library, it had been severed from its magic. I cradled it in my hands, suddenly feeling terrible. It had wanted something from me. Wanted that something badenough that it had left its sanctuary to get it, and it had lost its little spark in the process.
Quickly, I stepped back into the library, holding out my hand, holding in my breath, waiting for the creature’s little paper wings to stir back to life in my palm.
But the stargazer didn’t move.
The little bird was gone.
With a pang of sadness, I slipped it into my pocket and left.
23
YOUR MISTAKE
KINGFISHER
HE WAS TALLERthan her.
His hair was blond and was curly—not an uncommon trait in Zilvaren, it seemed.
As we stalked the boy’s movements through the streets of the Second Ward, I studied the slope of his shoulders, his gait, the way he left his hands in his pockets, like he had no idea they should be out and free, ready to hold a knife, and I couldn’t do it. I couldnotfind a scrap of his sister in him.
If I’d passed Hayden Fane in the halls of the Winter Palace, I would never have known he was related to my mate. Not on a surface level.
But then, therewasthe matter of his blood.
I’d failed to sense it the last time I’d come here at Saeris’s behest. I’d forgotten how weak the familial scent smelled between humans, or maybe I’d never even known. I’d met so few humans when I was young, and the chances of any of them having been related to each other were slim. Among so many millions of people, it was no great surprise that I hadn’t been able to find him before. But now, twenty feet behind him, I could smell it, trailing like a ribbon behind him as he wove throughthe bustling crowds: something like sunlight, a little like home. But different. The boy up ahead, with the red scarf protecting his face, was Saeris’s brother, and we werethisclose to bringing him back to Yvelia.
