A Curse of Blood & Stone (Fate & Flame 2)

“We know. We remember.”

“Hello,” I croak.

Ianca releases a long, slow sigh. “Aoife knows. She knows what he has done, and there will be retribution.”

Gesine falters. “You’ve seen something, then?”

The seer’s head bobs, and her frail body bobs with it. “When the second moon falls asleep and the sun awakes, all will suffer for what they have done.”

The hairs on the back of my neck lift with her ominous words. “What who has done?” Is she talking about Aoife and Malachi? Malachi and Sofie? Zander and me?

“The gilded doe has seen you, girl!” she shrieks, the sudden outburst startling me enough that I jump backward into Elisaf. “She has seen the ruin you will bring!” Her cloudy irises seem to bore into me as surely as if she can see me standing here. She peels her hands away from Gesine’s grip. “She will do whatever it takes! Whatever it takes! Whatever it takes!”

Who is she talking about? Who will do whatever it takes? Aoife, or me?

Ianca stabs the empty air in front of her with an accusing finger, her agitation growing by the second, until her words garble and her shoulders slump.

Gesine guides her frail body down to lie in bed. “That will soothe her for a few hours, at least.” She may be feigning calm, but her hands tremble.

“Are you okay?” I ask. I know I’m not.

She offers a tight smile. “I have experienced the mind of a seer before, but I have never watched someone I love unravel in such a way. It is unnerving.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean.”

“Your father.” She nods slowly. “Yes, I imagine you do.”

I study the brittle seer on the bed. “How are we going to get her out of Bellcross? She can’t walk through the streets like that without drawing attention. And getting her through that secret passage in the wall? Not a chance.”

“She would not fare well in there, if she could manage the trek,” Gesine agrees.

Elisaf’s lips purse. “Then we will have to come back for her tomorrow—”

“I am not leaving her again. You heard what she said. She has seen something.”

“Something that makes little sense.”

“I do not pretend to understand what it means, but we must try to decipher it. Seeing her now, like this … I fear every day may be her last. We must take her tonight.”

Elisaf paces the tiny room.

“What about that wagon?” I say suddenly. “That’s how they brought her here, right?”

Elisaf shakes his head. “That will not work. They close the gates at dusk for safety. No one travels in or out without intense scrutiny, and I assure you, two collared women will draw that.”

“Then we must leave before dark,” Gesine announces. “We must leave immediately.”

“We cannot. We are to meet Zander in the courtyard.”

But Gesine’s right, and my mind spins on the solution. “So then we split up. Jarek can go with Gesine and Ianca—”

“The only way Jarek will leave without you is if he is sent to Azo’dem with a blade through his heart. And before you suggest it, neither will I.” Elisaf’s tone carries that rare edge—still polite, but unyielding.

“And I won’t leave the city without knowing Zander hasn’t been chained up by Rengard.”

“Then we are at an impasse.”

“No, we’re not. Zorya can get Gesine and Ianca outside the wall. We’ll wait inside for Zander and Abarrane and then meet them after.”

Elisaf bites his bottom lip in thought.

“We don’t have a choice. Whether today or tomorrow, Ianca needs to leave in a wagon out that gate. Tomorrow, all the guards may know that Zander was in the city, which means they could be looking for Gesine. And me.”

Elisaf rubs a hand through his hair. “You are right, but for the record, Zander will not appreciate us going against his command.”

“We’re not going against them. We’re modifying them, given changing circumstances.”

“Remind him of that when he’s holding a blade to my throat,” he mutters.