“What about the wards on the door, will that let the others in?”
“No, my blood alone.”
“What about me?”
“You can’t get in or out unless I’m escorting you – walking with you. The rules aren’t that complicated.”
“Wait, you’re telling me I’m trapped in here?”
“If the door is closed and I don’t want you to leave, yes.”
My insides twist, which is stupid because I’m trapped in a damn bubble to begin with and can’t go anywhere without him, ward or no ward.
“Wait, I walked right through your wards at the White Castle,” I point out.
“Faulty potion. Seth mixed that batch. I brewed new ones the next day.”
“When?”
“While you were sleeping.”
Of course he did. I could write a book with the things that happen while I’m sleeping.
“And what about those women, the ones who killed Eydis?” I ask.
“Wisdom alone isn’t the opposite of evil. Like I said, very few Sabers have a high enough knowledge capacity, but obviously Lithael found the perfect triune to perform the attack,” he says as we pad around the next spiral in the stairs.
The staircase ends in an attic-type room. It pulls up into a peak on one side, but has a slope on the other. I doubt Seth or Killian would fit under it in the furthest corner. Work benches line the walls. Shelves and glass-doored cabinets are above them. Jars and vials of dried things, dead things, and still living things that flutter and fight, collected and stored, sit on almost every surface. All the labels are lined up, each one obviously in a designated spot, but I have no idea what her system might have been. There’s a big square table at standing height in the center of it all, making what should be quite a large space feel very small. It wasn’t designed for more than one person to work in here.
I recognize the boxes of empty vials in one corner: potion bottles. Open books, stacks of paper, and instruments fill every flat surface, but it’s all neat and organized. Diagrams have been painted directly onto every blank wall space in black and white ink. There’s so much to take in that all I can do is stand in the middle of the room, turning in a circle.
Roarke sets the tray down, picking up another piece of bread before heading straight for a shelf and sliding a very specific book down. He clearly knows what he’s doing, even though he’s never been here.
“This would have been so much easier if we could simply have asked her,” he says, almost absently. “Or if we had a sample of the actual potion that was accidently made.”
“Or if Seth hadn’t handed me a Rearrange Potion in the first place,” I mutter.
Because my first day in the White Castle wasn’t scary and crazy enough, Seth had to lead me into even more danger. Straight into the Potion Master’s classroom to make a mess of Logan’s potion test. Only it turned out Logan wasn’t working on his potion test; he was working on something much more sinister – something that would have locked the Elorsins out of each other’s powers and possibly out of each other’s reach too.
Roarke stops and tries to meet my gaze. Tries to, but fails, because I look away.
“Wouldn’t change a thing,” I rush to cover my poor choice of words.
“I would,” he says softly.
“You can’t. If the Crown’s Brahman-bralls of a nephew had managed to finish making his potion, all four of you would be inside bubbles.”
“For a short time. Apparently it would have worn off.”
“Just because we accidentally flipped one part of the potion doesn’t mean we flipped it all. What if each of you were in your own mini shrinking bubbles right now? Unable to reach each other, unable to defend each other, and slowly losing paces too,” I demand, my stomach turning at the idea.
“Bloody Seth.” He sighs heavily, running a hand over his hair before turning his attention back to the shelves and workbenches.
“I’d rather blame Logan.”
“No, Seth. His power messes things up. Problem is, the way it messes with things usually saves our skin.”
“So – Seth breaks things, and it makes everything better?”
“Exactly. Chaos has an incredibly high level of self-preservation; it’s damn near psychic.”
He flicks open his book, and with it in one hand, his other hand starts clearing space on the bench. And he’s already looking distracted.
“So, what’s the plan?” I ask, hoping to push this conversation along.
“We’re going to research. Pax, Seth, and Killian will meet us here soon, followed by Jada and Rose, and a few others, in a day or so. We’re cutting this far too close already.”
“What? No one told me Jada’s coming here,” I exclaim. I have no idea who Rose is, but if she’s a friend of Jada’s, I’m pretty sure I don’t want her in my life.
Or want her near my guys.
Mine.
Roarke just nods.
With my teeth grinding, I push for more details. “Why are they coming here?”
“We’ve been slowly watching Lithael fall into a pattern, watching his guard lower as he settles into controlling the kingdom. Pax has tactics written all over his mind, and he’s got plans. We need our allies here, away from the servants and spies that might overhear, so all of these little plans can be set into motion.”
“And Jada is part of your plans?”
“Jada is a Sealer – we need her if we’re to get any kind of freedom for our allies. Assignments come through her and the other Sealers. She’s our way of moving pieces around the board.”
“But she needs a letter-thingy for an assignment. She can’t just write you a seal whenever she wants.”
“Well, technically she could. Sigils and seals are like a language, patterns layered over each other to create effects and parameters.”
“Why don’t you use a seal to unseal yourselves from the castle?!” I exclaim.
He smiles at me, which is frustrating
