Chapter 38
Blade
“You just want her to breathe on it?” Rebecka asked, unknowingly putting two protective hands on the little beast curling around her neck like a ferret.
The touch was protective and purposeful, as Blade had always known her to be.
It was a wonder to him that anyone had ever found Rebecka Erring cold.
She was warmth.
And worried for the little beasts when they’d wasted no time gathering together in the office kitchens, with the supposed solution to uncovering the book within two small animals that were more difficult to corral than Fluffy.
“Clarke could do it as well.” Blade strained at the harness, trying to keep Clarke from melting the kitchen table. And Gideon Sage’s left hand.
“Gah!” Gideon ripped his hand back. “Eve, their breath melts things. Is it wise to use it on the only chance we have?”
Alexander Kingsley cleared his throat. He’d transformed back into a frog at least three times that day before changing back, and Blade couldn’t help but pity the poor sod for such a tease of a human life. “Winnifred?” he rasped.
“She’s not an option.” Trystan shook his head.
“Why?” Keeley asked with folded arms.
“Because I had Malcolm escort her back to her post at my mother’s house.”
Blade noted the horrified look upon Evie’s face, the disappointment on Trystan’s, and the— Well, Blade had no idea what Kingsley was feeling, but judging by the hardness of his expression…it wasn’t pleasant.
“I don’t seek to judge her—” Evie started.
And Rebecka cut her off. “I do. Isn’t your mother a bitch?”
Evie tapped Rebecka’s shoulder and gave her a knowing nod. Blade coughed and laughed against his palm, nearly losing his hold of Clarke.
The boss, for his part, didn’t seem bothered in the slightest. “My father’s funeral is in two weeks. Winnifred thought it would be a kindness to assist Amara with the preparations.”
“Maybe the prophecy will be completed by then and Rennedawn will belong to you forever,” Gideon mused. “If this actually works, that is.”
Blade nodded, lost in thought as he absently handed Clarke a treat.
Rebecka sighed at his antics. “You’ve been giving him too many treats; he’s become a terror.”
Unfortunately, the animals appeared to be fast learners. Clarke heard “treat” and jumped from Blade’s arms, clamoring toward Rebecka with his small, ineffectual legs. “No. No, get down this instant.”
The animal chirped when he made it to her waist, peering up at her with large eyes that pleaded for her affection. An activity Blade knew well.
“Oh, fine. Come here.” She held the animal, looking a bit like a painting that used to hang in his father’s house.
“Rebecka. They adore you.” Blade spoke with affection.
She gave him the same withering stare she summoned when the interns were running amok.
It was his favorite.
“Lucky me,” she mumbled dryly. But he noticed she was holding the animals with the utmost gentleness. “How do you two know that Calvin Warsen wasn’t trying to get you to destroy the window?”
“He didn’t know we have the guvres,” the boss pointed out, planting a hand on his waist. Something was off about him. He looked oddly…disheveled.
“Benedict wanted the guvres’ young for the prophecy’s purposes, but that might not have been the only reason,” Evie offered, and Blade realized that she looked equally disheveled. Her curls were unbound and wild, her dress wrinkled slightly.
“So…how did questioning go?” Blade asked, tilting his head to observe their reactions. “Really got in there?”
Evie flushed, and Trystan froze like a statue.
“No, he was fairly compliant,” Evie said, her voice a pitch higher, examining the window with admirable concentration.
“Calvin? Or Trystan?” Blade grinned, and Rebecka gasped.
“I’m going to dismember you,” Trystan growled. “And I didn’t give you leave to call me Trystan.”
“We’re friends. I can’t really call you ‘boss’ anymore, and if not your name, what else would I call you?”
“Your murderer,” he grumbled.
Edwin refilled cups of cauldron brew with a furrow of his brow. “And who are we murdering today?”
Lyssa chose that moment to join them, so all talk of murdering ceased for the time being.
“Let’s give Clarke and Cassandra time to shine. Shall we?” Rebecka urged. “Before they make a nest of my hair.”
Blade came toward her with a wink, and she gifted him one of her small smiles. He picked up each animal by the belly, taking extra care, then gently placed them both on the counter, facing toward the window.
“Is there a command to get them to do it?” Gideon asked him.
“Please?” Blade guessed.
The animals merely chirped and wobbled around the counter, knocking over a few ceramic chalices in their newborn clumsiness. They tried to move toward Rebecka, but both stopped when she pointed her finger at the window. “Now.”
The animals jumped excitedly at Rebecka’s attention. Again, Blade felt a kinship with the desire. “Any other ideas?”
Kingsley had been quietly observing, scanning each of them and then the window. “Break it?”
Blade knew his observations of others weren’t always reliable, so he wasn’t certain why he read something ominous in the suggestion.
“That’s not any less risky than melting it,” Trystan answered, appearing not to read anything into Kingsley’s note.
“I have an idea.” Lyssa’s quiet voice piped up. “May I try?”
Blade thought it spoke to both Lyssa’s intelligence and Trystan’s faith in it that the man immediately motioned for her to proceed.
Lyssa walked toward the animals, shutting her eyes, and…
began to glow. Blade gasped, and then so did everyone else when Lyssa placed both hands on the creatures’ backs; purple smoke rose from their mouths in large puffs, surrounding the walls, melting brick and stone, covering the window—
A light brighter than Lyssa flashed, and they all yelled. Blade scooped up the little girl, then reached for Rebecka, who was blocking her eyes with her hands. A whooshing sound like a flood of wind burst through the room, and then—the air was still.
The purple smoke cleared, the light dimmed, and the window…was still intact.
But the book of Rennedawn was no longer below the shining sun.
It was in the hands of Evie Sage.