Chapter 31
Lore
“I’ll flit the three of us to the floor with her suite,” I said, taking Reyla’s hand.
Dorion’s gaze narrowed. “Teach me how to do it, and I’ll flit myself.”
“Not everyone can perform this spell,” Reyla pointed out with a tired sigh. I hated seeing the pinched expression on her face. Stress, worry, and plain old exhaustion haunted her, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.
Three days left. I struggled not to let the bleak feeling consume me. It would be enough. We were already closer to the third talisman than when we arrived.
“Teach me,” he said again. “If it doesn’t work, I’ll let Lore carry me where we need to go.”
“We could walk,” Reyla pointed out dryly. “Our legs work perfectly fine.”
Dorion shrugged. “Up to you two.”
I told him the spell.
He tried for a long time before puffing out a breath and collapsing into the chair. Farris lifted his head and almost seemed to snicker.
Reyla was grinning. “At least I’m not the only one who has a hard time with that spell.”
“I saw you flit,” Dorion said. “Inside the labyrinth.”
“It’s inconsistent. I try to use it when I need to but since Lore appears to be a master flitter, it’s easier to let him handle it than embarrass myself over and over again.”
I tugged her into my arms, holding her because she needed it. I needed it. And I could never resist. “You’re amazing in all the ways that count.”
When she tipped her head back and smiled, I captured it with my lips.
Dorion watched with envy that sparked his irritation about his own situation. “We’re wasting time.”
“Kissing my wife is never a waste,” I growled, glad to see him quickly chastened. Keeping an arm around Reyla’s waist, I held out my hand to him and gave him a slick smile. “Hold on sweetums, and I’ll take you for a ride.”
Dorion huffed. “Fucking don’t call me sweetums.”
Wildfire snickered, which was my goal. I’d do anything, say anything, to lighten her mood.
“Farris?” I asked before I took us to the fourth floor.
He lifted his head and blinked before lowering his snout back onto his paws, flopping his tail back over his eyes.
“Poor tired nyxin,” Reyla said, glancing up at me. “If he was worried about us, he’d insist on coming along.”
Maybe. And maybe not. While he appeared savvy about some things, he couldn’t have the ability to predict the future. Only a few fae could do that, and as far as I knew, it wasn’t a skill creatures were capable of. Although, how would I know? It wasn’t like I could ask them.
“I’ll take us to the alcove with the curtain we hid behind before,” I said. “Don’t speak until we’re sure no one’s around.”
“Alright.” Dorion’s face tightened.
In an instant, we materialized behind the curtain. Silence echoed around us, but we waited, crowded together behind the dusty draperies until we were sure we were alone.
I tilted my head slightly to peer around the edge, confirming it, and we left the alcove.
Dorion peered down the hall. “Fourth floor?”
“This way.” Reyla strode toward the room we’d searched the night before with us not far behind.
When we rounded a corner, we stopped.
Guards stood on either side of the door. Seeing us, they stiffened.
“No one’s allowed in this part of the castle,” a male wearing Irridain livery said in a stern voice. “Leave and do not return.”
I lifted my hands along with a sappy smile, falling into my role as Lord Rutherford. “Apologies, my fine sirs. We were seeking the key. Does this mean all the doors in this part of the castle have red marks?”
“Someone found the key,” the man snarled. “Go to your suites. If I see you here again, you won’t like it.”
“Very well.” I bowed.
Reyla curtsied.
Dorion grunted.
We backed past the corner, returning to the alcove, where I warded the area around us.
“Can you flit us inside her suite?” Dorion asked.
“If we appear in front of someone, they may startle and shout for the guard.” I was more than willing to risk it to get Dorion inside, because there was something terribly wrong with Laphira.
If that was Reyla, I’d be there already.
No, I’d be slamming through the guards and anyone else who might stand in my way, then decimating whoever had done something to her to turn her into a mindless person.
As for my possible son, I’d lay waste to armies if he was in danger.
“We could flit to the window outside her suite and peek in,” Reyla said softly. “If there’s no one there or she’s alone, we could flit or climb inside.”
“You’re suggesting we…what, dangle from the side of the building?” Dorion asked with a scowl.
“I’ve done it before,” she quipped. “I’m happy to do it again.”
Dorion rolled his eyes. “There must be another way inside that suite.”
She gave him a sympathetic look. If it was reversed, she’d do the same; destroy anyone who stood in her way. “We could ask Moira and Calista to quiz some of the staff about other entrances, but that would take time.”
“I’m not waiting any longer.” Dorion started stomping back down the hall.
Reyla and I shared a look before we caught up. I latched onto them both, then flitted us to the wall outside Laphira’s suite.
With little to grab onto, we plummeted downward. Dorion's yelp echoed as we clawed at the wall.
Reyla zapped holes in the stone near our feet, and as we slid downward, we grabbed onto them. We dangled in the air four floors above the ground. An infernal hawk dove down, smacked into my back, and pecked at my head, and the wind gusted around us.
I fucking controlled the wind. I churned it into a full force and smacked it into the hawk, who flung itself to the side and flew away.
Gathering more wind, I infused it with dirt and rocks and whatever else I could find in the vicinity, turning it into a platform we could stand on.
“Nice,” Reyla said, releasing the wall. “I do love this magical skill of yours.”
“Your lightning saved us.”
“Nah, you would’ve flitted us to the ground and then back up here.”
“Maybe.” I stared into her eyes, wishing we were anywhere but here right now. Actually, I wished we were alone. In our tub that still waited or in our bed. Either would do. A wall, the sofa, anywhere. There were so many pleasurable possibilities.
One day…
“If you two are finished?” Dorion gestured to Laphira’s sitting area window above us, glinting in the late-day sunshine.
I levitated Dorion up until he could peer in through the glass.
“I don’t see anyone inside. Maybe she’s in the bedroom.” His voice barely contained hope.
“Then hold on again,” I said.
He grabbed my shoulder.
I swept my arm around Wildfire and flitted us into the sitting area.
“Who are you?” someone asked in a tiny voice.
We turned to find Laphira's son sitting curled up on the sofa, staring at us with wide, familiar eyes—Dorion's eyes.
I’d bet anything this child held the key to understanding what was happening to his mother.