“How long have you been out here?” she asked.

  “A few hours. I enjoy the air. Sleep comes difficult to me. Where’d you get these?” he pinched a piece of gray silky fabric from her sleeve. “I saw you wearing them the other day when we met your familiar.”

  “The domovoi brought them to me. Figured you wouldn’t mind, with how accommodating you’ve been lately.”

  Vasso scoffed.

  Sera hesitated, but took a deep breath before asking, “Are we going to talk about yesterday?”

  “It’s been a lot to take in.” Vasso worked his jaw and stared back out at Plaranina, his voice deepening. “But I like the way my clothes look on you.”

  Heat blazed up her neck and across her cheeks. Of course they were his. They were the color of his eyes.

  “Why do you keep braiding your hair?” he asked and pulled her braid from behind her back, laying it on her shoulder.

  All she could think about was the way he had tugged it. How deeply he had kissed her, how much she wanted his hands on her even now. “I need some hair creams from the Citadel. It’s a mess if I don’t moisturize it.” Losing her nerve to bring up their kiss again, she said, “I didn’t know you liked to sketch,” motioning for him to hand his book over so she could inspect it more closely.

  He raised one brow at her but relented.

  The sketch was of the mountains. The peaks and valleys had just enough shading that the empty paper appeared to be white snow. “It’s exquisite,” she said. Vasso didn’t say anything, just continued looking toward the rising sun, deep in contemplation.

  She flipped back a page, and there was Snik, seated, his head tilted, ears out wide. The resemblance was uncanny. She could feel the curiosity coming off the page as the goblin looked forward.

  Then further back again, and there was a bird in three phases of flight. Then a vuk. “How long have you been drawing?”

  “For as long as I can remember.”

  Sera turned the book over, taking in the type of leather it was bound with. “I’ve seen these before. Have you lost a few of these sketch pads?”

  Vasso shrugged. “Most definitely throughout the years. What did it have in it?”

  “A wolf, or vuk, like this one. Three birds in phases of flight. There was an aliato…” She flipped the page again, and there, in much more detail than the crude drawing she remembered, was the elken.

  One more turn and Sera held her breath. Everything around her grew silent as she stared at a perfect rendition of her face on the page. He’d drawn her, captured her flawlessly. Her hair was wild, her brows scrunched in concentration, and her chin set firm as if she was determined to make something work. She should’ve been embarrassed by the face she was making, but it was so expertly captured that she could only behold it in awe.

  “It was yours,” she whispered.

  “What was?” He glanced at her then. “Aah, you weren’t supposed to see that one.” Vasso closed the sketchbook and placed it on his other side.

  “You drew those pictures. The one I was cataloging before I left the Citadel.”

  “I don’t know how I feel about the Citadel having renditions of my work.” He lowered his voice. “But if it was you who preserved them, then I guess I can live with that.”

  He gave her a half smile, and a fluttering exploded in her chest. Somehow this felt like a quiet apology.

  They sat silent together until the sun had crested the highest peak. Sera curled her knees to her chest and rested her chin atop one. “How do you really feel about what we saw at the ruins?”

  She didn’t know why she asked. Probably to get the disappointment over with. That, and to avoid the topic of their kiss. He was already pulling away from her, not that they had been close to begin with, but there had been contact between them. And yet Sera couldn’t stop thinking about his lips. The undiluted joy in some of the images. And although she was seeing Vasso through her own eyes, she knew that if she could have seen her face in those moments, the looks would be reflections of each other.

  Sera felt the heat of his gaze along her cheek but refused to look at him, not wanting him to read desperation on her face.

  “That’s a complicated question,” he said.

  “Why?”

  “I have lived a long life.” Vasso cleared his throat. He rubbed at the callus along the inside of his palm over and over. “Your—our vatra magic isn’t common among my kind. The fact that we can wield it together…”

  Sera let a trickle of her mist leave her hand. Thinking of her familiar, she manipulated the fog to form the raven.

  Vasso chuckled. “You and birds.” He pushed his magic into hers.

  A chill ran through her, followed by a rush of warmth, and slowly her mist raven flapped its wings. It was Vasso who made it move—made it better.

  “I need to ask you a favor,” she blurted out.

  He tilted his head toward her. “A favor? I thought you said no more bargains.”

  She smiled and nudged his shoulder with hers. A slight breeze had a few stray strands of hair tickling her cheeks and neck. “Alistair needs to take Ophelia within the next day or two. He will return for me… but…” She swallowed. She prayed Dom would forgive her. “I can’t go back.”

  Vasso raised his brows.

  “The Citadel is in full war mode. They aren’t going to spare a team to save Nora,” she said.

  “You know this for certain?”

  “I don’t, but they were already reluctant. They won’t give me a team if it means more demons can be slain in this war.” The sun burned bright ahead of them now, washing away the purples and pinks of the morning, painting the sky solid blue. “I need you to take me.”

  “Shit,” he hissed.

  “What?”

  “So you want me to march you into the underworld and do what with you? Seraphina, they’ll rip you apart.”

  “I plan to ask for a trade. Me for her. I’ll sacrifice myself if I have to, whatever it takes. Barter me… I don’t care, just help me. Please.”

  He bared his teeth and looked away.

  It was a death wish. She knew that was what he was thinking, because she felt it too. It was the least she could do for her sister. Somehow Nora had escaped death, but Sera knew it wouldn’t be for long, and that was one thing she wasn’t willing to let happen. Sure, Ophelia had said Nora wouldn’t perish underground, but the witch also went on and on about free will.

  “And what do I get in return?” he asked. There was no lilt to his voice, no smirk or sarcasm.

  “Anything you want,” she whispered.

  His gaze danced along her forehead, across her eyes, before settling on her lips. She parted them, dragging in a shallow breath. Was that what he wanted? Her?

  “I’ll think about it,” he grumbled, and he slid off the boulder.

  “Vasso, I don’t have much time.”

  He started to walk away, but stopped. “Nothing will bother you. Follow the butterfly if you get lost.”

  The mist insect floated in the air, and he departed without another word.

  Chapter fifty-one

  Dominick

  It hurt him to see his mother suffering. She refused to attend her position in the arcana wing, and Dom was terrified the aliato would take her for insubordination. He was relatively sure that the only reason she hadn’t been interrogated was that she was in Daedeth.

  Every day, the death toll increased. Few families had been affected by the carnage, but still, Theo would come home and tell him of discrepancies. They were losing too many Legion fighters for this war to make sense. Theo was sure they would start conscripting Jedan into service just to increase the body count.

  Directions from the Council stated that Legion forces combined with the aliato had pushed the demon army from Egerton. Since then, both sides had obtained reinforcements.

  The flaming projectiles crashing into the warded barrier above the Citadel had ceased for now, giving some credibility to the information the Council was releasing. But so much more was going wrong inside the walls.

  Mastrias were now assigned to the light-bringers. They were always watching the coven populace, ripping through their minds. Searching for traitors. Theo had trained Dom to keep his walls up. He made sure to let a memory or two slip through so it wouldn’t be so obvious they’d learned to keep the mastrias out.

  Dom was rather proud of himself when a mastria threw a coughing fit as he walked by. He’d purposely thought of the first night he had sunk to his knees before Theo. Even now, he smiled at that.

  It was overcast. Dark clouds grew over the ocean, headed toward the mainland. Strange to have a storm coming in now when usually the wind swept in the other direction at that time of year. Trudging toward the Ogdelo, Dom itched the hollow below his ear and wished he had heard back from Sera.

  Theo had left hours earlier to collect information about the war before the other oracles arrived. It was risky. But Dom had agreed to let his lover continue with his mission. Someone needed to record the truth.

  Dom smiled to himself, looking forward to calling Theo something other than lover. Though he was a proficient one, he was more than that now.

  Careful not to trip on his gray robes, Dom climbed the main stairs to the Ogdelo.

  “Oracle Benero,” the master oracle called to him.

  “Master?” Dom bowed. “How may I be of service?”

  “I’m moving you. Congratulations. Consider it a promotion.” The master was already searching for another face among the crowd. Dark bags sagged beneath the old warlock’s eyes.

  “Sir?”

  “You’re being moved to lifelines. Please report to Oracle Hanu; she’s waiting for you inside.”

  Before he could ask any questions, the master oracle approached another junior.

  Changing placements wasn’t expected until the new year. Six months away.

  He walked into the lifelines pool, admiring the expansive layout that he got to play in now. Multiple platforms extended throughout the body of water. Oracles pulled threads in bright sheets of color, some of them disintegrating before they reached their fingertips. On the far side were the Legion oracles, dressed in their uniforms instead of robes.

  Which one of them had pulled Colton’s lifeline before he died? An ache grew in Dom’s chest.

  A petite witch approached him. “Dominick Benero?”

  “Oracle Hanu, I presume?”

  “You presume accurately,” she smiled. She was pretty and had every oracle’s light eye and hair coloring. Her blue eyes were hooded and angular. and The witch's blond hair was pin-straight to her waist, framing full, round cheeks. “We’ll start your training soon. The master wishes to speak to a few of us. Then I’ll be right over.”

  He gave her a mock bow, and she smiled with her rosy lips before leaving him alone again. Scanning the pools and streams of gray robes, he searched for Theo. Dom remembered him saying something about a mandatory meeting today. Most likely the same one that Hanu was reporting to. If there was a rank change, Theo would most likely be promoted as well. Maybe even get the training roll he’d been so eager for.

  A surge of warmth flitted through Dom as he thought about this evening. He couldn’t help the slight smile spreading across his face. Tonight he was going to ask Theo to be official. It had been almost a month since they’d made out in the alley behind Radost, and he didn’t want it to end.

  He didn’t think they’d be life partners. Shadow knew he didn’t want to think that far ahead. But right now, he didn’t want anyone else.

  It was a step. The biggest one he’d ever taken.

  More oracles filed into the great pool chamber. Many of them looked him up and down, “like an ancient relic,” as Sera used to say.

  Dom sighed. He still needed to get with Galene. Find out what she knew about the aliato.

  “Dominick, please join me over here.” He joined Hanu on the platform in a quiet corner of the pool. “We’ll be conducting some preliminary tests, and depending on how well you do, we will have you pulling threads by the end of the week. For now, I want you to focus on people you know, such as loved ones, family, and friends. Those we are connected to will appear the strongest at first. Others will call to you in time, but for today, I want you to call your family.”

  “All right, how do I call? Is it the same as weather patterns and crop yields?” He winked at Hanu.

  She giggled, and a pretty blush spread across her cheeks. “With enough practice, you will be able to just call them by name, but for now, please close your eyes and think of them. Think of their face and how they make you feel.”

  He thought for a second about calling Theo’s, but shook his head.

  Instead, he pictured his beautiful mother. He envisioned her sitting at the table, her face gaunt, holding a cup of undrunk tea. The bags under her eyes hadn’t left since they’d received the news of Colton’s death. Her strawberry blond hair was pulled back beneath a scarf, where a few ringlets peeked out at the temples.

  “That’s it!” Hanu said. Dominick opened his eyes, and a red thread skated along the water’s surface to him. Its top touched the ceiling; then it sank far into the water below. “You were thinking of your mother?”

  “How could you tell?”

  Hanu touched the thread. An image of his mother appeared before them, the same he’d just pictured in his mind. Her blank stare was haunting, her mouth now etched with deep lines that seemed permanent.

  “She looks sad,” Hanu said.

  “She is.” And Dominick wiped the image from his mind.

  Chapter fifty-two

  Seraphina

  Sera had sunned herself for a few hours atop the boulder, looking out over the ravine and onto the Lanac Mountains. It’d felt glorious. When she got back to her room, she was met with a note from Alistair saying he had some business to attend to.

  Apparently, he wasn’t keeping the traveling a secret anymore. She should be relieved, but Sera didn’t know if she could handle another instance where he came back covered in blood again. A piece of her grieved for him. Not because Colton was gone, but because of what she and Al could have been together.

  That kiss had been rushed, yes, and at the time Sera thought she had everything she’d ever wanted.

  But Alistair wasn’t Vasso…

  Heat crept up Sera’s neck and across her cheeks as she thought of their kiss. The way his mouth fit hers.

  Sera sighed and went to find something to distract herself.

  After a few hours, she found a tome in one of the seating areas within the manor. It was a catalog similar to the codex, and she admired the various pieces of art labeled in it as she tried to distract herself from Vasso.

  All she wanted was to be near him again. Swim in the depths of his eyes, breathe in his scent. He was intoxicating. And that picture he’d drawn… Had it been fate? That she had been the one commissioned to preserve his sketch pad, then to be stopped outside of Crowpass?

  A tap on the door had her opening it.

  Her familiar flew in, taking its usual perch on the bedpost. Behind the bird, a blue velvet bag held by a wisp of shadow floated in.

  She waved her hand through the smokiness, her vatra rippling within her, and the bag plopped to the floor. She peeked inside, then squealed and ran to the bathing room.

  Small bottles of fragrance, oils, butters, and creams for her body and hair were wrapped in a silk scarf. She smelled each of them, choosing one that reminded her of the ocean and sunshine.

  Summer in a bottle.

  Sera soaked in the hot water while methodically using the cream to separate her curls into some semblance of a shape. It would take more than one application for her curls to be back to normal, but she didn’t care. Laying her head on the rigid rim of the tub, she smiled. He couldn’t have gotten this from the Citadel, but knowing he’d gotten it for her at all had her blushing.

  She hadn’t felt herself in ages, and this little kindness made the fluttering in her stomach beat harder. She should be petrified. It was clear Vasso was hiding something. Obviously his feelings about her, but she couldn’t help but think there was something else.

  Sera lifted herself from the tub and stepped into a clean towel.

  Snik was now sitting on her bed in animated conversation with Raven, who flapped its wings and croaked in response. Hanging on the mirror was another beautiful black gown.

  “You two aren’t very good guards, are you?”

  Raven and Snik made a noise that sounded like a huff.

  The dress was stunning. Dainty straps held on to her shoulders. The bodice was simple and cut low enough to tease a bit of cleavage without being immodest. The skirt was full, cut in ripples and waves of black tulle. It was a little much for dinner, but she couldn’t deny that she looked beautiful in it.

  Sera beheld herself in the mirror, transfixed by the eye color she shared with her father—a swirling mix of emerald and sage.

  A knock at the door had her giddy. He’d come to see his handiwork. Skin smoothed and softened, her hair with its natural curl back, albeit damp. She opened the door with a smile, then stopped short when she saw Alistair.

  His gaze danced over her, from her face down the bodice of her dress and back up. He inhaled, closing his eyes.

  “Are you smelling me?” she asked.

  Red streaked his cheeks, and he cleared his throat. “We need to talk.”

  Sera swallowed. “I don’t think I can take any more bad news, Al.”

  “I know you’ve been sneaking off with him.” He walked past her, glaring at Snik and Raven.

  “You don’t know anything.” She closed the door.

  “Mesar, remember? You’re covered in his power. I can feel it coming off you in waves.”

  The dagger at her spine pulsed in warning. Their bargain was that he couldn’t know Vasso was training her. Technically, if he found out she had the same power, it wouldn’t break her bargain with the lord. Not that she wanted Alistair to find out at all.