Page 159 of Death of the Glass Angel
Stiffening, Janus’ throat parched. They had not spoken since the incident in the tomb.
Sors padded along behind Felsin as he took a seat beside her. “Last day.” He said abruptly. “Everyone leaves tomorrow.”
“With everything back to normal.” Janus agreed. Should she apologize?
“Not for me.” He leaned forward. “I have a murderer to find.” He narrowed his eyes. “Why did Alfaris show you that, if he’s working with my mother?”
“I have no idea.” Janus leaned toward him. “I’m sorry. My curiosity always gets the better of me, and-”
“Don’t apologize,” Felsin said angrily. “I would never have known otherwise. His spirit would never rest, never join the ancestors if his true death went untold.”
Stunned, Janus stared at him. “Oh.” She managed.
“I was pretty mad at first, though. You know, opening a casket earns you the death penalty here?”
“Oh.”
Felsin’s face cracked, and he chuckled. “Janus, you’re. . .”
“What?”
“Special.” He decided.
“Yeah, Evander says that a lot, too,” Janus said, frowning. The last person she wanted to compare Felsin to was her brother.
If only she’d gotten to spend more time with him, under less duress. Janus wouldn’t have minded another round of training, or two.
But it was better this way. Nobody deserved to be stuck with a murderer like her—one whose life was cut in two. Even without the black mark on her character, there was hardly anything to love and plenty to hate.
Janus wanted to think about something else—anything else. Shimmying closer, she changed topics. “Can I ask you something? Who do we know who most reminds you of Burgundy Rose?”
Felsin took the question in stride. “Talon.”
“Really? Why?”
“You haven’t seen this play before, have you? You’ll understand by the end.”
Turning back to the stage, Janus watched the first act unfold. A band of thieves gathered around a handsome fireborn cefra in a roguish, tattered coat, pacing playfully around the stage as they planned their next move.
The orchestra roared to life as a song began, and Janus tapped her fingers along to the beat to steady her nerves. Across the stage, the faintest flicker of light outlined the box where Heras and Brand sat. From this distance, Janus could only see a flicker of red through the shadows.
Alfaris had disappeared entirely. Last night, Kalid sent men to the observatory, but it was empty. A brief search of the city had yielded nothing. No one knew where the old man had gone after leaving Heras’s office. Not even Felsin.
Another piece of the puzzle was missing. Alfaris claimed they were not enemies, but was that true?
Warmth draped over her trembling fingers. Startled, Janus’s head whipped down to see Felsin had laid his hand over hers.
He smiled at her. “Try to stop worrying for one hour.”
“That’s impossible,” Janus whispered back.
He chuckled, wrapping his fingers around hers.
Janus’s breathing steadied as the play moved into the second act. Everything was calm, and the engrossing story playing out below captured her attention.
The curtain rose on the next scene, and Janus tilted forward in her chair. The Governor had captured Burgundy and planned to throw him into a burning building as punishment for his crimes.
A mesmerizing set appeared as the curtain retracted. Fire flickered around a stone building, smoke rising from the stage as the guards dragged the captured rogue onstage.
