Fortunate, considering how often you are in that state.
When he huffed a laugh, I took a deep breath and pushed through the door to the stairwell. “Catch you guys later.”
Catching is definitely in the cards.Matt’s eyes gleamed at me before they headed down, while Trix and I went up.
Mari’s voice echoed up the stairs. “I want a closer look at that fish. If it has pointed teeth, it might be a carnivore.”
Geez. The ogress really had balls of steel. No way I’d be looking that close at something that could swallow me whole.
The dorm was eerily quiet. I let us into our room, and Trix immediately jumped upon the bed.
Talakai’s books were stacked on the dresser. I picked upAssassin’s Bloodand ran my hands over the worn cover, my heart twisting. Where was he now? Was he finding a new balance while back on his familiar turf? I wasn’t sure I was ready to reread all his notes in the margins. Would the Dragon who’d written them ever find his way back to me?
His novels lay atop a larger book—my text from theCryptid Powersclass. I pulled it out and started leafing through it. After sleeping through the class, I should do my own research.
I was instantly riveted.
The Liberi section alone was fascinating. Male and female, warrior and healer, energy manipulators designed to work in perfect sync. Did Cara really think I had Liberi blood? But if so, why did I have Bellati talents, considering I was female?
I read the entire section without finding any answers. But I did come across something interesting.
“Certain family lines possess the ability to generate the most powerful of Bellatis—a being known as a Perditor. If a female carrying the talent dies at birth, her power is released into the child, and it generates a transformation. If the child survives the process, it will mature with the ability to tap into the core power. Perditors are exceedingly rare due to the circumstances of their births. This is a good thing, as they are also capable of great destruction.”
Nikolai. Cara had said he was a Perditor. What, exactly, was the core power? But it was no wonder I’d reacted so strongly to him.
I sighed and moved on. And then I found the section on Satyrs, and settled in to read, my lips twitching as I thought about Jacques.
I flipped the page, and froze.
There were several images on it of the Satyr royal family. But what caught my eye was their crest. It was an intricate knot design, and it immediately struck a chord with me.
Because I’d seen it before.
In my dream.
How had I dreamed of something I had never seen? I peered at the images. They were black and white, and not the best quality. An older male and female, with six offspring, according to the lineage chart provided. None looked like the woman I’d seen.
I turned the page, and there she was. The queen’s sister, and a princess in her own right. She’d looked a bit older in my dream, but the features were identical.
Beneath the image was another, taken from a publication calledThe Tatersi Herald. The headline read:Princess Lyric Dies Giving Birth.
I read the article with no small amount of fascination. Apparently, both princess and child had died. Very sad, but now, old news. How had I dreamed of someone who had died almost 22 years ago? And why?
My eyes drifted over the article as the dream niggled at me. Then my brain finally registered the date.
I stood, picked up the book, and headed for the door. With a martyred sigh of resignation, Trix followed me.
With any luck, Jacques would still be with Cara. I had a question for him.
24
Anna
The contents on Cara’s tabletop had changed.
It was no less chaotic, but now I noted clippings with rather alarming headlines.Fire Devastates Mine and Spreads Through Local Town; Rockslide Buries Gazron; Dam Explosion Wipes Out Montenya River Valley.There were more, all disasters. All, by the looks of it, with significant death tolls.
The Satyr himself was not in evidence, however. “He’s rattling his info network, trying to dig up something on Galeran,” Cara said with a grimace. She finished patting Trix and rose to pour hot water into her teapot. “But the man hides his tracks well. Thanks, in no small part, to the woman who dares to call herself a Watcher.”
