Ren murmured, “I am selfish.” She’d never considered how much Munro must have suffered to lose her. And he would again. Maybe not right away, but losing her was inevitable. Unless she accepted immortality from the ring.
Ellie asked Balery, “Will you roll the bones for her?”
The fey nodded. “I’ve been curious about our new friend.” When Balery had first entered the salon, she’d cast Ren a quizzical glance.
“Are she and the wolf gonna find Dorada?” Ellie pondered aloud. “Or maybe he should make peace with her mortality?”
Balery removed a black pouch from her belt and retrieved an assortment of bones from within. She rolled the bones on the coffee table, then squinted at the results with soft brown eyes. “It’s inconclusive. That can happen if I’ve been rolling too often, or if the querent’s life is about to radically change course.”
“Radically doesn’t sound so good.” Was Ren slurring?
“It could be as innocuous as a pregnancy.”
Oh. “Can a replica like me have children?”
Balery collected the bones, stowing them back in her pouch. “I honestly don’t know. You’re the first of your kind that I’ve ever encountered.”
Despite the excitement of this conversation, Ren yawned, making the other two grin.
Ellie said, “That’s the other great thing about being immortal; you won’t need a lot of sleep.”
With a wistful note to her voice, Ren asked her, “Is it honestly so much better?”
“For me it has been. Hey, let’s get together tomorrow and brainstorm ideas. Maybe Dorada’s not the only path to immortality.”
“Ideas would be much welcome. Thank you.” Another yawn escaped her.
“We have loads of time to work all this out. In the meantime, you gotta make sure to get sleep when you’re hanging with immortals. I had to remind myself of that.”
Ren stood and wobbled. “I think going to bed now would be prudent.” She shuffled her feet into her slippers.
“I’ll trace you back.” Ellie rose and grasped her arm.
Ren waved at Balery. “Thank you for trying with the bones.”
Balery smiled warmly. “Of course. I’ll attempt again tomorrow.”
Ellie teleported her to the villa, leaving her even more wobbly. “I’m so glad you’re here, Ren.” She surprised her with a gentle hug. “Everything’s gonna work out. You’ll see.” Then she traced away.
Alone, Ren meandered to the bathroom. How very different this life was from her previous existence. Hours of conversation over drinks. Friendships with Loreans.
A love affair with one.
Why hadn’t Munro told her about his son?
As she finished using the facilities, she wondered how long he would be gone. Their short time apart had her missing him. Did he miss her as well?
She’d just entered the bedroom when a whispered word carried through the villa: “Riiiinnnnngggg.”
FIFTY-TWO
The Forbearer king is out in the mist.
Munro was on his way back to the villa, eager to see if Kereny had returned yet, when he caught scent of Kristoff. He followed the thread through the fog to a high cliff overlooking the city and found him standing at the edge.
The vampire gave a curt nod in greeting. These hours had done nothing to alleviate Kristoff’s aggression. In fact, he’d grown worse. “I was wondering if you would find me.” His Russian accent was as thick as Lothaire’s. “You’re the first outsider I’ve spoken to since I arrived here.”
Munro lowered his voice to say, “Your men said Lothaire abducted you from your castle and forced you back here.”
“He did. At swordpoint. Then he imprisoned me in his dungeon, tortured me, and threatened assassination.”
“Why?”
“I’m the heir to the Horde crown, and he wants it for his own.”
Lachlain had said as much. The vampire insurgents who currently held the Horde capital refused to accept Lothaire as their ruler because he had no legitimate claim. But they’d also refused Kristoff because he’d outlawed preying on humans for blood.
Munro said, “Lachlain sent me to do whatever I can to help you escape. Did the Enemy of Old have some kind of spell placed on you to prevent you from tracing?”
“I thank you and your king, but I’m no longer trapped here. Yet if I leave, I will never remember how to return, and Lothaire has information that I must procure.”
“Then let us help you get it. We can track down Nïx. The soothsayer can divine whatever you need.”
“I asked Nïx. She was of no help.”
Munro awaited more with raised brows.
Obviously not a sharer, Kristoff gazed out at the kingdom. When he finally spoke, his words sounded dragged from him: “I’m fated to a female who is lost to me, chained at the bottom of the sea. Lothaire alone knows where she was last seen. She’s cursed to drown over and over, only to regenerate for more suffering. This . . . this consumes me.”
Well, that certainly explained his constant aggression.
Munro imagined how he would react if Kereny were in the same position. I’d lose my fucking mind again.