Page 97 of Of Scale and Blood

His frown deepened. “No, and I would have.”

“Then perhaps it has something to do with the active spell over there.”

I pointed toward it with my chin, and he glanced over his shoulder. “What spell?”

I frowned. “You can’t see the markings on the floor?”

“No.” He glanced at me. “If there’s a spell, perhaps it was a deliberate choice of his to make it visible to only you.”

“Possible, though I was seeing it before he completed it. I guess we can question him about it when he gets back.”

Ifhe got back.

“Is it worth questioning the Prioress?”

“You can certainly try. I got absolutely nowhere. What room is she in, by the way?”

“The Blacknut suite.”

Blacknut being a tree that emitted a spicy, citrus scent that seemed to linger even when the tree was harvested and made into furniture. I finished my pottage, then scooped up some more. It seemed Kaia wasn’t the only one who couldn’t fill her stomach. “What’s Mom doing?”

“Waiting on news from Katter. Their scouts reported ship remains and bodies being washed up on Green Bay, and they’ve sent a small team to investigate.” He grimaced. “She won’t leave until she hears back from him.”

My breath caught. “You don’t think Garron is amongst them, do you?”

“I can’t see why he would be, given he was land defense, not ship.”

“Maybe they managed to get a few ships out of the harbor before the riders destroyed it.”

“If thatistrue, then this wreckage suggests they didn’t get far.” He drained his shamoke and rose. “I had best get back.”

I rose with him. “How much closer have the Mareritt gotten?”

“A couple of miles out by all accounts, and their numbers are vast according to the scouts who’ve managed to get close.” He paused. “We’ve lost contact with Marcon’s team, though.”

“Marcon is too canny a soldier to be caught unawares by the Mareritt.” Though it was also true that even the canniest of soldiers could be overwhelmed by sheer force of numbers. I really hoped that wasn’t the case. “If they’re so fucking close, we should be able to see?—”

“They’re using a wide sheet of fog to cover their precise location and numbers,” he cut in.

I swore softly. “Does the fog roll up to the wall?”

“Not yet.”

“Meaning they’ll have to break cover to attack us, and even if they do have more of those large mobile tubes with them, we should have ample warning.”

“That is the hope.” He dropped a kiss on my cheek. “You’re to remain off duty for the rest of the day—your mother’s order, but one I entirely agree with, even if I’m also aware you will discard it the moment you deem it necessary to do so.”

I laughed and impulsively hugged him. “I do love you both; I hope you know that.”

“Of course we do. Now, you’d best be letting this old man leave while you settle down and eat that mountain of food you have happening there. Anyone would think you’ve been given your drakkon’s appetite.”

“It’d just be my luck to get that and nothing else.”

He laughed. “Túxn has smiled on you your entire life, Bryn. I’m thinking she’s not about to abandon you now.”

“And I hope she’s listening to that comment and taking it as a compliment, not a challenge.”

He left. I sat down and made my way through said mountain of food and finally felt the pangs of hunger subside. Once I finished the shamoke, I rose, grabbed my coat, then strapped on my sword and my knife. My gaze fell on my bow and quiver—abandoned up until now in favor of Mom’s—and instinct twitched. I wasn’t sure why, but given the continuing sense of doom pulsing through the background of my thoughts and the nearness of the Mareritt, I wasn’t about to ignore it. I slung the quiver and bow across my back, then opened the door and walked around to the guest quarters, my footsteps echoing softly. My leg, I couldn’t help but notice, no longer ached. Perhaps the transference had gifted me with some of Kaia’s fast healing and it had finally settled those grumbling muscles.

---