Page 65 of Dragons Of Shadow and Sea

"What--" I start.

Dropping his hand, he stands up straighter. "Your absence from your cell has been discovered. The order has just gone out to search the Citadel for you."

Oh, shit. I instinctively take a step back, a surge of magic crackling through my arm.

"I'll buy you what time I can," he promises, automatically, as if the idea of turning me in never even occurred to him, and I dare to breathe out a quick sigh of relief.

Just because Rook himself isn't going to instantly betray me doesn't make me safe, though, and he knows it.

"Here." He makes a strange twisting motion with his hand, and in a swirl of purple smoke, a bag appears out of thin air. Passing it over, he glances around at the orbs. "Grab as many of these as you can."

"What--"

"If anyone comes near you, smash the spheres."

I recoil. "I thought you said that would blow up the citadel."

"Desperate times," he chides. "You can portal within the Citadel's walls?"

"Apparently. But it's--" How do I explain? "I don't know how to direct the portal without something to focus on."

"You have Air and Water in your blood. Follow them to the far northwest corner. There's an exit there at the top level of the tower." He hesitates. "It will be a treacherous climb down from there, without your beast at your disposal, but you're a resourceful girl."

"Um--"

"At the base of the cliff, you'll find my ship tethered to the dock. The coordinates to a secret residence of mine are stored in the navigational system. You should be able to contact your mates from there."

"But--"

His voice cracking, he lets a soft, rueful smile curl his mouth. "I wish we had had more time to get to know each other, Ember." His gaze connects with mine, and there's more of that warmth in the very center of my chest. "Good luck."

And then he's gone, disappearing in a dramatic cloud of black smoke, and holy hell, I have so many questions.

There's no time for any of them right now, though. Outside, in the hall, I hear the sounds of heavy footfalls. Muffled voices shout to secure perimeters and search every room. No one tries this door, though, which makes sense. The amount of power radiating off of it from outside was staggering.

Someone with enough magic to enter will certainly be by to check soon, though. With a surge of adrenaline fueling me, panic muzzling my misgivings, I start following Lord Rook's orders.

"Sorry," I whisper to the orbs as I take them and set them gently in the bag. The fabric must be enchanted; no matter how many spheres I place inside, the bag doesn't seem to get any heavier, and so I keep shoving in more and more. I can't dwell on the fact that the orbs contain literal souls. I just can't.

I empty an entire shelf, and I'm tempted to empty the rest of them, too. As repulsive as it is to think of smashing these things, it has to be better for the spirits inside than sitting in purgatory forever--right?

There's a glass case set into the wall at the end of the row of shelves. As I'm hesitating, I peer inside. It's full of scrolls, and oh wow. They're giving off as much mystical energy as the spheres. I open the case and gently poke at a few of them, half-afraid they'll burn my hand off with shadow magic or something, but they're just paper.

There's more shouting at the door to the room. Magical locks click open in a cascade. When the doorknob rattles, I freeze. I'm out of time.

As fast as I can, I dump as many scrolls as I can grab into the bag and cinch it up. I mutter yet another apology to the rest of the Soul Spheres that I have to leave behind.

The door to the room bursts open, and shit, shit, shit.

What did Lord Rook say? Follow the water and air in my blood to the northwest corner of the citadel. I close my eyes, but I can't focus. It was hard enough creating a portal to this room. I had my parents' lights to focus on, then. Now I just have the faint feeling of the elements beyond these cold, black walls.

Then I feel two different presences.

My eyes fly open. Mariutza. Delaynie. I promised I'd get them out.

And this is foolishness. I can hear Lord Rook in my head. Brave but stupid. That's how he described my mother, and I'm 100 percent sure that's how he'd describe me, too, but I'm her daughter, through and through. I'm my father's daughter, too. A youthful rebel and an idealist, always butting heads with the wrong people.

I feel out for Mariutza and Delaynie's lights, and my bracer burns.

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