Page 71 of Hidden

The sick feeling in her stomach threatened to worm its way upward. Lila gulped it down. “No luck.”

Rafe scanned the pile of shards on the desk, eyebrows rising. “Onto Plan B?”

She silently blessed him for asking no questions. “Plan B.”

There was no way to hide what had become of the crystal, so they simply shut the door to Ademar’s room and returned to the hidden passageways. The next destination was the basement cells, where they could search for Lord Teegar and any other captives they might be able to free and send for help. There were no guarantees that the perimeter spell would let anyone pass, fae or not. But the fact that Lila had been caught was most likely personal—which was infuriating, but offered a smidgen of hope.

She followed the same path Ademar had taken the night she’d arrived—which seemed months ago, given how much had happened. She opened the door to the entrance hall a mere crack to peer out. It would only take a few seconds to get from the passageway to the door leading to the cells, but this was the moment when they would be the most exposed.

No one was in the entry, although a dull murmur of voices indicated crowds of guests were near. They slid silently into the entry, closing the passageway door behind them. The only obstacle was the staircase landing that jutted a few yards across the checkerboard tile. All they had to do was circle that to reach the door to the downstairs.

Rafe went first, moving with a sinuous grace. Lila followed, the pocketknife she’d found in one hand. It wasn’t much of a weapon, but it made her feel better. They darted around the staircase. The scent of mulled wine hung in the entry. No doubt the smaller, main floor kitchen had been pressed into service to prepare the refreshments served outside the banquet hall. That meant servants would be nearby.

Rafe reached the door and pulled it open. Lila was a few seconds behind, so she pushed her ball of light forward to illuminate the steep stairs. He took the first downward step when a bolt of light skimmed over Lila’s shoulder with a crack of shifting air. She ducked, whirling to see where it came from just as the spell caught Rafe between the shoulder blades, pitching him forward into the dark. The door slammed shut behind him.

Lila straightened, numb with shock. Lord Farras took a step forward, moving so close their toes brushed.

“Hello, Lila,” he said. “We need to talk.”

CHAPTER 25

Achill smile curved Lord Farras’s lips, though his eyes showed nothing. Not for the first time, he reminded Lila of a sleek but deadly serpent. She shifted the tiny pocketknife in her hand, hiding it from sight.

“What did you do to Rafe?” she demanded. It was the wrong tone to take with a lord, but she was done being polite. Rafe might be hurt.

“The wolf? Nothing more than a push and a tumble back to the kennel where he belongs.”

Anger heated her cheeks. “You had no right.”

“Of course, I did. You failed to keep your pet properly leashed,” he replied, making every word precise. “And I don’t approve of animals in the house.”

“I neither need nor desire your approval.”

Cool amusement flickered across his face. “As I said, we need to talk.”

He reached for her, but she deflected his grasp with a whisper of magic. If the rebuff surprised him, he didn’t let it show.

“What if I have no appetite for conversation?” she asked. “I decked the banquet halls and plumped your pillows. I put on a dress and danced with you. What more welcome do you think you deserve?”

“Are you offended because a messenger interrupted our dance?” He laughed. “That was the king’s formal invitation for me to join his retinue on the road to Gilden Wood.”

“Judging by your expression, I’d say it was a summons.”

Now she saw a gratifying spark of anger in his eyes. She straightened her spine an extra inch, refusing to cower. She’d been waiting for this moment since her girlhood.

With a sound of annoyance, Farras seized her wrist so hard she lost feeling in her fingers. She struggled to keep hold of the knife, but her efforts were useless. He plucked it from her fingers and snapped the blade shut with his free hand before dropping it in his pocket. All the while, he held her gaze with a look of barely-banked rage.

“If you must express your outrage,” he snarled, “do me the courtesy of using a proper dagger.”

With that, he jerked her arm hard enough to make her stumble forward. A pair of fae walked by, but they wore his gray livery and quickly turned their faces away. No one was going to stop Farras, even for a daughter of House Fernblade.

“Where are we going?” She tried to stop, but the marble floor was too slippery to dig in her heels.

“The closest room where private conversation is possible.”

She pushed back with her power again, but this time, he was prepared. She might have been attacking a concrete wall with a birthday cake sparkler. His only response was a disgusted grunt.

He shoved her into the kitchen where she’d first encountered Rafe. The location was already in use by a half-dozen servers preparing refreshments. Several were ladling hot spiced wine into goblets. One startled as they barreled in, narrowly missing his feet with the steaming liquid.

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