Page 66 of Bloodwitch
Vivia scarcely had to enter the hive-like hallways of the eastern Sentry before she had an answer regarding Stix. No one, military, civilian, or passing refugee, had seen anyone at all matching her description.
Stix was gone. She was missing.
As Vivia sailed numbly back, she could do nothing but stare with unseeing eyes. Even the barn swallows that swooped across her view, riding the warm currents carried up from the valley, could not distract her. They made their nests beneath the water-bridges, and normally, she and Stix would call out to them, some silly refrain about safe harbors and sprightly winds.
That thought only served to make Vivia ill now.
This was all her fault.
She had been so self-absorbed. So stupidly, stupidly naive as to think she could leave this city for a day with no consequences. If she had just stayed here, then Stix would not have left—at least notwithout some kind of explanation. And if Vivia had justblighting stayed here,then she would know where to begin searching.
Vivia suddenly knew all too keenly how Merik had felt a year before. His Threadbrother Kullen had vanished in the Sirmayans while building watchtowers, and Merik had stretched resources to obscene lengths trying to find him.
Those lengths seemed absolutely reasonable now. Paltry, even.Now,Vivia would do whatever it took and use whatever she could to find out where her best friend had disappeared to.
So many regrets, but she just had to keep moving, keep searching.
Stix was somewhere. Vivia would find her.
It was nearing midday by the time Vivia reached Queen’s Hill once more. She was aimed for the Sotar estate at the top of the hill; perhaps the vizer himself would know where his daughter had gone. And if not… well, he needed to know she was missing.
She was stopped halfway up the road when a hand landed on her shoulder. She whirled around, the name “Stix” flaring through her mind—but instead of Stix’s cavalier grin, a scruffy-mustached boy in royal livery faced her.
Rat, her father’s youngest page.
“Highness, your father wishes to see you.” His voice jumped octaves every few words. “He is in his bedroom, too weak to leave.”
Vivia felt the blood drain from her face. First Stix, now Serafin… It was too much for one day. She shoved past Rat and charged up the crowded street. She cared none for the cries or the glares as she elbowed her way into a jog. For once, she would have welcomed her guards to help clear a path.
The King Regent had been healthy and whole only yesterday. He had bellowed with all the force Vivia had grown up with.This is your fault. You left because you were upset, and now he’s sick again. And Stix is gone too. Everything you do is wrong.Selfish, selfish—how could she have been so thrice-damned selfish?
Vivia was panting by the time she reached the royal wing of thepalace, sweating through her frock coat, her hair glued to her forehead. Rat, who had scurried behind her the entire way, now scampered in front so he could open the door.
“Your daughter—” he began, but Vivia swept into the room before he could finish.
She had expected darkness, as her father had required at the peak of his illness. Instead, she found sunlight streaming in from the ceiling-high windows. And instead of her father lying in bed, eyes closed and breath wheezing, she found him standing—not even seated in his rolling chair, butstandingbeside the blazing hearth.
He looked even better than he had yesterday. Shoulders strong, color warm in his cheeks. Even his hair seemed thicker.
Serafin did not react at Vivia’s entrance, nor look away from the fire as she approached. Orange light glittered across him.
“Your Majesty,” she asked hesitantly, “are you ill?”
A muscle feathered along his jaw. “Where have you been? I have been waiting for you since the ninth chimes.”
“You sent no summons.”
“I should not need to.”
At last, he angled away from the hearth, although not toward Vivia. Instead, he crossed to his desk beneath the window. A stiffness marked his movements, and pain flashed across his face.
Vivia’s chest stuttered. “Have the healers come?” She saw no signs of the amber draughts or tubs of salve they usually left behind. “I will fetch them, Your Majesty.” She twisted toward the door.
“Stay.” Heat lightning laced the King Regent’s voice.
Vivia froze.
“We need to discuss my plans for the troops.”
