She waved a hand as if she was unbothered by my hovering, though her expression suggested otherwise.
Despite her obvious annoyance, I still didn’t budge. I’d seen Andrel. Did that mean Cillian was here as well? What had happened between the two of them since my messy exit from the former home we’d all shared?
“Is there something I can help you with?” the woman mumbled.
“No,” I said quickly. “Just the bombs you’re working on there…they caught my eye. The root powder that’s used to make them is quite rare, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“I’ve only seen it in a region far south of here.”
“It’s called corpseroot,” she said, still mostly ignoring me, her fingers working deftly on twisting the bomb’s fuse together.
“Yes. I know. I…I know someone who is a master at making these bombs—an old friend of mine. From that same southern region, actually.”
She kept working without comment.
I looked back toward the hallway, making certain the two of us were still alone before I said, “His name is Cillian.”
Her fingers stilled against the bomb. “I know who you’re talking about. Used to live in the old Morethian Manor for a time, I believe.”
My stomach heaved. “That’s right.”
Her gaze lifted to my face, though the rest of her remained perfectly still. She studied me for a long, uncomfortable beat before she went back to fiddling with the weapon and said, “It’s been weeks since I saw him around here.”
He was here.
The revelation made my pulse quicken, but I stopped myself from commenting on it and revealing my ignorance.
“I haven’t seen him lately, either,” I said, calmly. “I’ve been wondering where he was.”
She gave me a puzzled look. “You’re a friend of his. Surely you know he couldn’t pass up an opportunity like the one in Stillwind.”
Stillwind?
I was desperate to know more, but before I could think of a way to pry information out of her without seeming suspiciously clueless, she swept her unfinished bombs and ingredients into a bag, slung it over her shoulder, and got to her feet. “Sorry to run,” she said, “but I’ve got people expecting me elsewhere.”
With a casual wave, she was gone.
I stood alone in the room for a few minutes, staring at the shining remnants of corpseroot powder on the floor. Memoriesof Cillian flooded the space, threatening to drown me. Memories I didn’t have time for.
I had a confirmation that he was alive now, at least.
No matter what else happened, that alone made this risky venture worth it to me.
I doubted most of the gods and goddesses waiting for me would agree with this sentiment, however. Clenching my fists at the thought, I hurried back to the hallway—
And nearly collided with Andrel as he emerged from the locked room.
“Watch yourself,” he growled, snatching my arm and pushing me aside.
“Youwatch it,” I growled back.
I knew it was a mistake the instant the words left my lips. I also didn’t care. All of the loss and confusion and anger I’d carried into this city was winding up so tightly inside of me that I was going to violently, irrevocably snap if I didn’t releasesomething.
Andrel’s fingers remained tightly wrapped around my arm. He watched me without speaking for a long moment.
Too long.