Page 107 of Death of the Glass Angel
“I know you can see.” Des matched his frown. “You catch me every time. You always know who’s coming and who’s left. Somehow.” She thrust the ornament toward him again.
Gemellus backed away. “What exactly are you giving me?”
“The pendant.” She thrust it toward him.
Gemellus shrank from it as though Des had offered him poison. “I’m quite all right. It gives off a significant magical aura, whatever it is.”
Magical aura? Could evokers sense something like that?
“I don’t think evokers can sense ‘magical auras.’” Talon added, one eyebrow raised.
“What would a cefra know about it?” Gemellus retorted. “When you lose one of your senses, Des, the others grow more acute.” Gemellus shoved his hands in his pockets. “I have no idea what that is. This was in the ruins?”
“Yes.”
“Sounds important. Hold onto it.” He suggested.
Des lowered her extended hand. He was not acting himself.
“Okay,” Talon said sarcastically. “Should I add ‘necklace’ to our little board, then?”
“Glass Angel.” Des corrected.
“Right.” Talon stared at Gemellus. “And shall I make a note that you fear it?”
Gemellus ignored Talon’s accusation. “Look over what we have, Des. Find a connection.”
Lowering herself onto the couch, Des’s gaze swept over the list of names and places. A year ago, Des would have laughed at the words she added to the scroll.
Death. The Tower. Illusion. And The Priestess.
“The fortune,” Des said. “Alfaris pulled it before Eros died. And again, now. Whatever follows, be it destruction or salvation—Felsin and I are to blame.”
“We have a suspect.” Talon underlined Heras’ name. “She knows what’s to come. Learn what she wants, and everything will fall into place.”
“Find our missing evoker,” Gem said, “Find our missing memories. And the truth unveils itself.”
“Where should we start looking?” Des asked.
“We aren’t starting anything,” Gemellus said pointedly. “You’re to remain here, under my guard.Princess.”
* * *
Talon sat on the edge of Des’s window, stuffing various tools into hiding spots. Lockpicks here and there, a knife in his boot, another under his sleeve.
Leaning on the foot of her bed, Des folded her arms. “Who sent you to watch me?”
“I wasn’t watching you specifically.” Talon crossed one leg over the other. “I needed a way into the ball, and Janus was easy to manipulate.”
Des chuckled, despite herself. “At least you’re honest.” She eyed his wound. “Are you sure you don’t need help?”
“Des.” Talon smiled warmly. “Princesses aren’t supposed to waltz into danger once, let alone thrice.”
“Am I supposed to let you waltz without me?”
Talon regarded her quietly. “Do you know how they pick songbird recruits?”
“I assume they. . .” Des trailed off. She didn’t know and had never given it a thought.
