Pax snatches it up. His breathing slows, measured, as he studies the estate. I’m ready for him to turn and tear out of here, for the desire to rip the whole manor apart and the lord with it to take over. But this new sigil controls it all.
Kitten dashes between us, snatching the glass from Pax. She leaps onto the window seat. Pax and Killian both grab her by the waistband, steadying her with one arm each. Her sleeves fall back, displaying the splint and reminding us all how breakable she is. Going through the window is not an option.
“What do you see?” I ask, my voice softer than Killian or Pax’s would be, maybe even Seth’s.
“Nothing,” she says, her shoulders relaxing. “Nothing.”
Nothing? This is the first time she’s looked at it in the daylight, and the first time she’s had a clear, magnified view. She has to see something.
She steps backwards off the seat, held in mid-air for a split second before Pax and Killian lower her. Then she holds the glass out, and I wrap my fingers around it.
The metal casing is as cold as ice, and the Silvari glass at either end is impossible to see through, completely frosted over. She’s right, nothing. It’s almost like there’s a hundred tiny cracks in the glass. I check it twice, looking, then looking again, then turning it to look from the other side, while Kitten examines the room.
“You guys really know how to make a space feel tiny.”
But the glass is unusable – and it sure wasn’t when Pax looked ready to tear the manor to pieces just moments ago.
Goosebumps trace across her skin, and Pax pulls her back into his arms, but his gaze is on me – because we have things we need to talk about. There’s conflict in his expression, his brow drawn, his nose a little bad-smell scrunched, before he relents to whatever battle he was fighting on the inside – or with Thane.
Not the time to bring up the glass, so I file it in my growing list of stuff-I’m-desperate-to-understand. If ever I get a chance.
“Seth, get her warm,” he says, passing Kitten across to the bouncing ball of Chaos.
Pax’s nose wrinkles.
“And the clothes, I know,” Seth says, grabbing Kitten by the shoulders and steering her towards the stairs.
“Wait, I get a say in where I’m going. You can’t just man-handle me around,” she says.
“Yes, we can,” all four of us respond.
“I’m going to find a way to woman-handle you lot,” she grumbles as Seth drags her down the stairs.
I groan. Please, yes, do it, my insides are pleading… That’s not the right thing to say to any of us, Kitten. I take two involuntary steps after her before Pax puts a hand on my chest, and Thane growls at me.
Then she’s down the stairs and out of earshot.
Pax waves the letter in the air, and I regain the brain power to step back. “Two hundred and seventy?”
I nod.
“Who’s her father?”
I shake my head, scratching at the back of my neck. How would I know?
Killian snatches the letter from Pax, his expression impossible to read as he scans over it, saying, “This is impossible.”
“The simple things are usually the ones that go wrong,” I mumble. Honestly, what do they want me to say?
“Explain,” Pax growls.
“It’s the 50-50-90 rule. Anytime there’s an equal chance between two options – 50-50 – there’s a proportionally higher chance, nearer the 90 percent, that things will go wrong.”
It’s a fact – that only people who spend time reading facts will appreciate. Killian is not one of them, so the big man just growls. Which makes me very happy – though I’m careful to keep that emotion locked under enough Allure that he won’t pick up the scent. He once told me that my power smells like jasmine, and I figured out long ago that if I flood myself with Allure, it masks some of the other emotions I’m feeling. Doesn’t work with the strong ones, though. Fear – especially. Lust – even more so.
“If her mother is a mortal, and her father is a Saber, she’s 50-50. But it’s not that easy. A 50-50 ShimmerSeed and FireSeed is called a Flicker – and they’re downright dangerous. A 50-50 StrengthSeed and FaunaSeed is called a Silvari – normal and seedless. There’s never been a child of a DeathSeed and a FireSeed – but there’s a 90% chance that it would go very wrong.”
And both of them look at me like I’m about to be strangled to death.
I take a deep breath and try again. “Whatever her father was, she might have inherited some power from him, but I don’t know what that is. It’s not impossible, it’s just not probable. Which doesn’t matter because it’s somehow locked down or cut off, and that’s not even important, because her bubble and its effects are exponentially more critical right now.”
Killian is growling again.
Pax’s eyes glow, but the guy doesn’t move, so I wave my hand in front of his face, pushing a few of his buttons to see how this sigil factors in.
“Ah.” I exhale. “So that’s how it works.”
He growls and I lower my hand, but it’s still a few more moments before he unlocks his jaw to talk. “Could it be the bubble and not something Eydis did? Could that be what’s blocking her from properly accessing the world?”
I shake my head at him. “We should ask Shade if she had any kind of Saber power before she was trapped in the bubble.”
“Downstairs,” Killian rumbles. “Seth hasn’t got her warm yet.”
No, Seth hasn’t; he’s become distracted with much more interesting activities.
Twelve Paces
Seth guides me down the stairs.
Away from the guys having a private conversation in Eydis’ attic. Away from the window. Away from the estate. I’m not sure looking through that glass was a good idea. Seeing the details
