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“Lyr,” he replied at once, the stone lighting up in my palm. “Are you alright? What’s happening?”

“I’m in the cell…same as before,” I said, starting to cry.

“Shit. Did they hurt you?”

“No. Aemon got me two hours of privacy. Can you…can you come?” I asked, my voice breaking. “I need you.”

The stone turned white, and I pulled back the covers. Rhyan was standing in front of me, his arms wide open. I leapt from the bed and ran into them, wrapping my arms around his back and sobbing into his armor.

“Hey, partner.” His hands tightened around me, stroking my back and my hair.

Being in Rhyan’s arms, I finally broke down.

“Do you know anything?” I asked through my sobs.

“No, not yet,” he said softly. “I’ve been waiting for orders and word you were okay.”

“Do you really think they’re still alive?”

“I do,” Rhyan said, fierce determination in his eyes.

“Aemon thinks so, too. But how? What kind of akadim don’t kill immediately?”

Rhyan ran his thumb across my cheek. “I don’t know. But I’ve been tracking them for months. They’re growing in presence, and they’re getting organized. Their nests…they’re more sophisticated than I’ve ever seen. There’s assigned sleeping quarters, there appears to be a hierarchy. Relationships between them. This isn’t what I would have predicted, but based on what I’ve seen, it seems to be following their pattern. I can’t deny that your sisters need to be rescued as quickly as possible, but we might have time. You’ve got to keep your hopes up. Anything is possible.”

Footsteps sounded down the hall. My eyes widened.

“He said two hours!” It had barely been ten minutes.

“Call me when it’s clear.” He kissed my cheek before vanishing on the spot.

The door opened and slammed shut. I walked forward to the bars of the cell, a pit in my stomach over who might be approaching. I trusted Aemon to keep his word, which meant whoever was here now went above Aemon.

I swallowed down the bile in my throat, sure I was about to feel the dark predatory aura of the Imperator.

But no one came.

“Hello?” I called out. “Hello?”

The door had definitely opened and closed. Had someone walked down this hall by mistake? I listened more closely.

Then I heard it—a series of small thuds. The sounds were growing louder. Something was rolling down the hall, coming toward me.

I peered out. It was a small leather case, identical to the one that had been thrown in my bedroom. It was another message from my supporter, the person who’d led me to my mother’s journal.

The scroll stopped dead in the middle of the hallway outside my prison bars. I reached my arm forward, but the case was too far for me to reach.

“Hello?” I yelled again. “Anyone there?”

Silence was the only response. A minute passed, and then another.

I called out to Rhyan, and he was by my side a second later.

“Can you get that for me?” I asked, pointing at the black case.

He vanished, reappeared outside the bars, and bent to pick it up. A second later, he was frowning inside my cell.

“What is this?” he asked.