Page 168 of Winds of Ruin
“What’s happened, Lark?” Krait growled out. He held his distraught daughter’s shoulders as they quaked.
“He’s gone. The sword. The carcanet. They’re all gone!” Lark’s fingers tangled through her dark curls as she broke from him to pace the entryway. They stood before the memorial statues. I couldn’t help but glance at Elsedora, whose face paled at the sight.
The door slammed behind me, and the Princess’ focus darted to us.
“Who’s gone, Lark?” El asked.
I glanced around, looking for Dritan—No.
She had to be mistaken.
Caym sat locked away in the mirror.
Aquas had warned us; we’d been fools to think time had ever been on our side.
“Dritan... Caym has him.”
Darkness crept into my vision, and my blood ran cold.
The evidence mounted against my denial, making it impossible to preserve my ignorance—I’d failed him.
“When?” I demanded.
Lark pivoted toward me. “Just now. I was only away for a few minutes. When I returned to my bedchamber, he was gone,” she sobbed.
“Start at the beginning andbreathe, Lark. What happened?” Elsedora soothed as she crossed the room to pat her niece on the back.
Lark rattled out what had unfolded in her quarters—the blood on the ground, the dreadful message, the imposing countenance in the pane. All of it spelled disaster.
Her voice rasped. “He told me your old sword felt wrong. I didn’t listen. Now, he anditare gone. He couldn’t see the deathmark on it. What if—”
Sybilla’s hand wrapped around the front of her own neck. I had not seen her look so frightened since we’d talked in a dungeon cell about cursing me to sleep.
Death had left a vulnerability on that damned blade. His mark must have tainted what should have brought about his demise, and we’d all failed to see it.
“The sword guided me once to Caym when I was in need. If it still has that power, what if it led him right to the Death Origin?” Sybilla warned, joining Elsedora at Lark’s side to settle her.
I stood rigid, watching them. We could not delay action. Though, I felt spun around trying to piece together a correct course.
My son lay vulnerable in the hands of my greatest nightmare.
“Where is the mirror hidden?” I asked.
“The volcanic shores,” Lark blurted. She looked ready to Shadow herself away when Krait caught her arm.
“Not alone,” he demanded.
Lark shook her father off and crossed her arms. “He is in trouble!”
“Yes... and this is likely a trap,” Krait gritted out. “I’ll go with you.”
“Absolutely not,” Elsedora cut in. I realized then that not all the stubborn tendencies Lark exhibited came from her mother. “You’re practically mortal, Krait—I’ll go with her.”
“No,” I barked. “If you must take someone, then it will be me. Me alone.”
Elsedora balked. An expression of hurt etched across her beautiful features. The room grew silent.
Caym’s threats of what he would do to El plagued my mind. Visions of her turning to dust made my throat constrict. If keeping her out of his reach meant hurting her, I’d betray every promise I’d made her.
