Page 118 of Blood Sanctuary, Part One

“I have seen you succeed at those very spells,” his father reminded him, “in your workshop, surrounded by the most breakable new glass. When we had the doors and windows here at Rose House spell-tempered against the elements, accidents, and wear, I did not think our planning would need to account for the threat of rogue diplomats.”

Lio let out a pained laugh and forced his fingers to relax, trying to release his taut magic as he did so. “I have not been this angry since Martyr’s Pass.”

“You did not lose control then, either.”

“I was sanctioned to do anything I deemed necessary to the heart hunters. There was an outlet for my power. Now I must sit out of sight and leave Skleros untouched, the man who—”

The glass’s crystalline tones filled the courtyard. Lio’s power made his heart pound, as if he could pump blood for Cassia. But he could not. That was denied him.

But if it was the only way to save her tonight, he would not let anything stop him from bleeding for her.

Lio’s father wrapped one strong hand around his own. “You will get your chance. Just not tonight.”

“I cannot let him continue to be a danger to her. I must ensure he does not have the power to threaten her again.”

“You must also make sure the mortals never suspect Cassia is under our protection. The worst danger she could face is for the mages to suspect she is one of our own.”

“You’re giving me a lesson in diplomacy, Father.”

“There are times when parents have the opportunity to share what they have learned from their children.”

Lio bowed his head, and the glass quieted again. “Thank you for helping me not do anything rash.”

“It’s the least I can do. For many years, your mother and I breathed a sigh of relief, safe in the belief you did not inherit my temper. It appears I afflicted you with it after all.”

“I try to wield its power only for just cause.”

“How could protecting your Grace not overcome every other instinct?”

Cassia’s heartbeat grew louder and stronger. Lio’s own pulse leapt, and he jerked his head up. The women in the room stirred. The blankets rustled. He watched Cassia sit up.

The roof pane above Lio’s head shattered. He heaved a sigh of relief and shook off shards of glass to put his face in his hands.

WING OF DARKNESS

Cassia opened her eyesto the sight of ribbed vaults. Knight lay against her. The room was bright with spell light and fragrant of roses. The open curtains revealed the thriving garden in the courtyard.

She scanned the whole view through the glass door and windows. No sign of Lio. Not even a glimmer of his veil. She sat up to get a better look.

Out in the courtyard, a high note shattered into countless chimes. A flurry of glass slivers and shards twirled down over one of the benches, parting and cascading and outlining Lio’s invisible silhouette.

In spite of everything, she smiled. Silk bedclothes whispered around her, unresistant. She could move. She could breathe. She felt weak with relief, but stronger in body than she could ever remember.

She had not lost her chance. A breath of poison was not to be her end. The fair had dealt a blow to the Summit, the necromancer had ambushed her, but by the glyph stone, she would not give up now.

“My lady!” Perita hid her tear-streaked face against Cassia’s hand.

Cassia touched her friend’s shoulder. “Oh, Perita, do not cry for me. All is well.”

“So it is.” The Semna mopped Cassia’s brow with a damp cloth. “I can only conclude you are in the peak of health.”

Knight’s tail wreaked havoc on the bedclothes.

Cassia held him to her. If only she had heeded his warnings when he had tried to herd her away from the mages. “Oedann, my good Knight.”

Pakhne put a supportive hand behind Cassia’s back. “Bless Mother Kyria. You gave us a scare.”

“Your pulse was so weak,” Ariadne fretted. “We feared the worst.”

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