2
"What do you meandecimated?" Maia demanded, running through her vague knowledge of Ilysen. It was a large, port village on the edge of the Crooked Finger, known mostly for its opal salt production. Not a massively impressive city like Crystellion Port, but big enough that they’d heard of it here in the City of Skies.
"I mean it'sgone," Jaro said, shaking his head in disbelief. "Refugees arrived in the city last night. One of our spies happened to be near when it happened—that's how we found out—but by now the whole city will know."
"Who?" Azrail demanded, his face harsh with worry and an intensity Maia hadn’t often seen. She watched him silently, wondering if she'd see a glimpse of that dark smoke power again.
"Nesslyn," Jaromir replied, nodding at a huddle of people across the courtyard, clearly clustered around their spy.
Azrail stalked across the square, people moving aside as he passed but looking calmer and less worried for his presence. He was a lot of things, the Sapphire Knight, but he was a damn good leader to these people.
"Are you alright?" Maia asked Jaro, her beastkind mate quieter than usual. The bond between them was far from still, though; it roiled with something near sickness and the knife-sharp magic she sensed in rare glimpses. Impossible magic for a beast kind to possess. Saint magic.
"I'm fine," he replied automatically, but he allowed Maia to pull him into a hug and rested his chin on her shoulder, expelling a slow breath from his slender chest.
"Talk to me," she coaxed, ignoring the ripple of surprised murmurs across the courtyard and giving all her attention to Jaromir even if her curiosity and dread swelled with the sound. "Jaro."
He sighed, a rough breath lifting pale silver hair off her shoulder. "Every time we hear something like this—a city demolished, or a factory collapse, or a camp destroyed overnight—I wonder if my brother was inside it. If he's dead now."
"Jaro," Maia breathed, her heart squeezing with grief for him. She drew back enough to look him in the eye, but didn't let go of him. "You can't torment yourself like that. You don't know he was anywhere near that village."
Jaro shook his head, his throat bobbing and misery heavy in his eyes. "Isak could be anywhere, and I'd never know it. He's probably dead by now—"
"Don't youdaregive up," Maia ordered, giving him a stern look. "You didn't give up on me when I was in the palace being tortured by iron, and you're sure as shit not giving up on your brother now. Not when you’ve been fighting to find him foryears."
Jaro let out a mirthless laugh, his jade eyes dull with pain. "The hope hurts worse. It's hard, Maia. I don't know how long I can delude myself that he's alive after so long."
"Don't you think he feels the same about you?" she asked, not softening her words even though she probably should have. "I bet he thinks you're lost too, but you're alive, you'rehere. We'll find him. No matter how long it takes, I promise, Jaro."
His expression softened, his expression pained but edged with affection as he wrapped his arms tighter around her and tucked her into his body. "I'll try not to give up, love. But I might need you to remind me why to keep fighting again."
"Always," she promised, leaning up to kiss him softly. "I'll always remind you, pretty kitty."
Jaro groaned, rolling his eyes and unable to fight a smile. "You're not supposed to call me that in public."
Maia grinned shamelessly. "No one's listening."
"I'm a respectable member of Az's circle. I have a reputation of my own as a secret keeper and blackmailer, and I think some people are a little bit scared of me. Of all the things I could know. The second someone hears you call me pretty kitty, I’ll be ruined."
Maia patted his face, a look of faux-sympathy on her face. "Your ego would recover, kitty."
Now her mate was smiling, and with her worry lightened for the moment, Maia couldn't fight back the need to hear what this Nesslyn had seen. She couldn't hold back the dread winding through her stomach, either.
"How bad is it?" she asked Jaro, taking a step across the unusually still courtyard—there was always someone training, working out, or running laps, no matter the time of day—and pleased when he immediately followed.
"Bad," Jaro replied with a wince, his beautiful face darkening with unease at the story he'd heard from the spy.
Maia arrived at the huddle around the woman just in time to hear the juicy bits.
"—completely dark, all the stars had gone out. I thought it was Ismene at first, sweeping in to conquer the place for no good reason."
"She doesn't need a reason," a throaty female said, angry enough that Maia decided she'd befriend the woman. Clearly they had wanting to murder the queen in cold blood in common. Friendships had been built on less.
"Exactly," Nesslyn agreed fiercely, and the people in front of Maia shifted enough that she got a glimpse of the spy. In her early thirties, with long black hair, light tan skin, and bland, forgettable clothes, she seemed completely dull at first. But then Maia caught the flash of her black eyes—alight with feeling and cleverness. Maia was willing to bet most people didn't take a second look, and Nesslyn went unnoticed.
"But something shifted on the air," the spy went on, drawing out the suspense and clearly loving everyone hanging on her every word. "It was like magic, but not quite. Something else—something I've never felt. Like the air was twisted and warped. Noise sounded different, even my own breaths were deeper, stranger."
"Less of the theatrics please, Nesslyn," Azrail drawled, and Maia craned her neck to see him across the crowd, his arms crossed over his chest and a heart-stopping focus on his golden face. Just lately, she'd become used to having that dangerous focus pinned on her, and she couldn't quite control her body's reaction now.