“We must speak with Darius Detori and leave Nedora as soon as possible,” Penelope whispered.
I nodded as I glanced at the fluffy silk cushions heavily embroidered with gold thread and embellished with precious stones around the edges, spread out around the table for the guests to sit on. A few chosen courtiers were already lounging around the table, inhaling smoke from flavored hookahs. The ladies that accompanied them were beautiful and unveiled. Dressed in billowing chiffon pants and small beaded tops, they had eyelids dusted with gold powder, heavily kohled eyes, and reddened lips the color of fresh cherries.
Prince Shiraz looked less imposing reclining on a cushion, his short dark hair uncovered. He had changed into an even more ornately embroidered robe of crimson and gold, with four rows of emerald beads slung carelessly around his neck. The jeweled rings on his fingers flashed as he gestured for us to sit beside him.
The Detori prince grinned, showing his pristine white teeth again, which for some reason had started to irritate me. When I asked him about Rhea, he gave me a vague answer about not being a physician.
“When will your father return?” Penelope asked.
“He is due home tomorrow,” said Shiraz before biting down on a crisp pigeon pastry. “You may meet him at your leisure and are welcome to stay as long as you like.” He flicked his hand and gestured for a serving girl to present me with a tray of bite-sized morsels.
“Thank you.” I eyed the tray of pistachio-covered pastry squares, caramelized almonds dipped in rose syrup, and honey-glazed apricots stuffed with clotted cream. I couldn’t resist.
I ate quickly as Penelope tried to get him to discuss the upcoming war, but Shiraz Detori didn’t seem to have any interest in anything but the scantily clad women who had draped themselves around him.
After a few hours of the prince wasting our time, Tristan escorted us back to our rooms. Rhea was still not back.
“That was a completely useless meeting,” said Penelope, exasperated. “Prince Shiraz doesn’t have a head for war and politics. If we want answers, we will have to wait for his father to return.”
Tristan shook his head. “We should go back to tracking Andromeda and the book.”
“Prince Shiraz said his father will be back tomorrow,” Penelope stated. “But he didn’t sound all that sincere when I asked him about it.”
“We should leave this place,” Tristan insisted, keeping his voice low. “I don’t like this Detori fellow. And I don’t think he’s trustworthy.”
Penelope started pacing the room. “I know we are pressed for time, but it is important for us to meet with Darius Detori and make sure he stands with us. Without Brandor’s support, we will not stand a chance against Morgana’s army. And even then, the odds are against us. But I agree we shouldn’t stay too long. We will wait until the end of the day tomorrow. If he doesn’t return by then, we will proceed to Sanria to speak to Santino and Roderigo Valasis.”
I crossed my arms. “I can’t leave Rhea here.”
“I asked one of the maids about Rhea,” Penelope offered. “They said she is being cared for and recovering in the infirmary.”
“I have a bad feeling about this,” I said, going over to the window. “Why won’t they let me see her?” I felt very protective of Rhea. And I had promised to help her; she trusted me, and I couldn’t let her down.
“Get some rest,” said Tristan, his tone low and serious. “I will find Rhea. I have a lead on where the blackened iron is coming from that I need to check out anyway.”
Penelope put her hand on my shoulder. “Tristan is right. Get some sleep, and I will make arrangements with my contacts to locate Rhea’s family and see her safely back home.”
I nodded. “Thank you.”
The night was quiet, and a soft breeze entered the room through an open window as I lay down on my soft bed and thought of Rhea. She was so young and scared, and she reminded me a little of myself when I was first dragged into this world. It was a terrible fate to be taken from your home and to never see your family again.
I felt something move in the room, and my fae senses snapped to full alert.
Tristan couldn’t be back so soon.
A shadow descended into the room. My blood turned cold as my eyes adjusted to the dark and met a pair of burning red eyes flickering like hot coals in the darkness. Its leathery obsidian wings blocked out the moonlight that shone through the open window.
A gorgoth!
The hideous half-bat henchmen of the Drakaar, men transformed by dark magic into wretched beasts. The nightmarish creature perched on my windowsill growled, razor-sharp claws and serrated teeth glinting in the moonlight.
I reached for Dawn, which lay beside my bed. Magic infused my sword, lighting it up with silver fire.
The gorgoth hesitated, but just for a second. With a terrifying growl, the creature pounced.
A second was all I needed. Letting my fae senses guide me, I sprung out of the bed and landed in a crouch in front of the creature.
Adjusting the grip on my sword, I moved swiftly as the creature lunged at me. Its bat-like wings made it difficult for it to move in an enclosed space. I raised my sword to block its blow, slicing at its arm. The gorgoth screamed and moved back, but I knew from experience it would not stop until one of us was dead.
I could not risk using a blast of fire magic here—releasing uncontrollable silver
