Page 7 of The Princesses of Ruin
“She may not know exactly what you can do yet. Halt the updates for at least a week.”
“And the supplies?” Freian asks.
“We’ll fly them in at night,” I say. “I’ll send you the locations remotely when we drop them.”
“She’s been warding the airspace, erecting spires etched with runes that make my skin crawl,” Lumi says.
My jaw aches as I grit my teeth. “When?”
“Today. She had me digging the holes.”
It would be suicidal to attempt to subvert the wards without knowing what they are. It could be standard protection barriers, or a proximity alarm, or a turret to blast us out of the sky.
“Did you document any of the symbols?” I ask.
“They’re like the others,” Lumi says, pointing to the page in Freian’s hand. “Unknown to me, but dark in nature. Hellsborn.”
My thoughts jump from one possible solution to the next, none of them viable. I mutter a curse and Kaz squeezes my hand.
“You’re not alone, vy drecoul.”
I take a steadying breath. “I need to consult the conclave. I’ll be here tomorrow night with our plan.”
Lumi turns away without another word, her mind shielded with walls of earth so all I can sense is her displeasure.
Freian bows. “Be safe, princess.”
“You as well.”
“And please tell Kaz I’m taking good care of his books.”
I sense the mirth in his being. Not even war with a god can dampen his spirit. “I will.”
I cut the ties of power to my ephemeral presence and feel the wind blow through it, dispersing my magic. The vision of the field fades,and I’m once again in my body. It aches. My skin is still raw on my cheeks and arms from the flames.
Kaz pushes a cup of water into my hands, and I drink deeply. When the cup is empty, I reach for the bottle of wakeful potion.
He catches my wrist. “You’ve had too much already.”
I hold his glowing gaze. “The consequences of toxication are minimal at this stage.”
“This is your second day awake. Your mind needs rest,” he says.
“I’m essential for communication within the palace. Rest will have to wait,” I say, reaching for the bottle with my other hand.
He pushes it out of reach with a burst of air, and fire burns up my belly to my mouth.
“Release me.”
Gold tendrils surge out through my lips and burrow into his eyes. He yanks his hand back as if I’ve burned him. My heart lurches and my lungs seize as his posture goes rigid.
I lost control.
“I’m so sorry,” I utter, reaching out for him, touching his face and chest.
He closes his eyes, relaxing as my hand caresses his cheek. The steady thrum of his heartbeat under my right palm reminds me of the depth of his affection. He’s not trying to hamper our efforts. He’s trying to protect me.
“I will take a two-hour rest, no longer,” I say, and his eyes snap open. “Then I will sleep tonight.”
