He looks offended. “I’m nothing if not a gentleman.”
“It’s not Tira I’m worried about.” I exchange a look with Tira, trying to tease a small smile out of her, and am rewarded with an eye roll.
It’s a start.
We ride east, covering the last stretch of land between us and the border. There’s a chance Sophos has already sent word on to the holy city about what happened, but we’re a long way from Godom and even farther from Elmere. Leon seems confident we’ll reach the border before anyone can catch up to us.
Confident enough that we stop in a town as soon as we’ve put some distance between us and Otscold. Eryx’s leg has started to bleed again, and his darkening bandage unsettles all of us. Alastor promises me “the old man’s had worse,” but they’re all glad when we find an inn and fetch a healer recommended by the owner.
“What’s the verdict?” Damia asks when Leon returns from speaking with the healer. He must’ve lifted his dream magic from Eryx for the healer to examine him, because we’ve been listening to Eryx’s curses from the room next door. Something tells me having enough energy to swear like a sailor is a good sign.
“He needs rest,” Leon says. “But he’ll be able to ride tomorrow. We’ll eat and sleep here tonight.”
The innkeeper brings us food. When we’re done eating, some of the fae immediately bed down to sleep. Tira and I find a spot in the corner and discuss finding Will, curling up just like we used to under the Firesta statue at Gallawing.
“Why wait?” Tira whispers to me. “Can’t we leave for Gullert tonight?” She eyes the fae dotted around us.
“I know they’re intimidating,” I say.
She shakes her head. “It’s not that. It’s just that every minute we spend out on the road I feel like we’re going to get ambushed by cleavers again,” she shudders. “Or someone else who wants our heads.”
“Look, the fae are crossing the border much farther north than they originally planned,” I say. “So we’ll be even closer to Gullert than I thought. It makes sense to stay under their protection until the last possible moment, because once we go north, we’re on our own.”
I reach out to squeeze her hand. “I’m just glad you’re here, safe.”
“Sap,” she throws at me, but squeezes back. Then her face grows serious again. “Honestly, I’m still struggling to believe I got out of there alive.” She pauses, taking a deep breath. “I have to tell you something. Gallawing’s gone.”
“What?” I stare at her.
“It burned down a week ago. They don’t know how the fire started.”
“All of it?” I ask.
She nods.
I try to process the news, but I have no idea how I feel. The manor was my prison, but also the only home I had for twenty-one years. I knew those rooms like they were part of myself. For it to be just wiped out of existence like that…
“There’s something else,” Tira says. “A few days before the fire, a nobleman came to the village. A strange sort of person—very serious looking. He got some food from the tavern, but he didn’t speak to anyone. His carriage went up to the manor, and then he just left the same day. The next thing we knew, Gallawing was up in smoke.”
“Was anyone hurt?” I ask.
“No. Everyone left after you did. There was no need to keep staff anymore.”
“What did the crest look like?”
The question doesn’t come from me. We both turn to look at Leon, who’s seated on the other side of the room but has obviously been eavesdropping on our conversation. A hundred questions filled my head at Tira’s news, but that wasn’t one of them.
“I’m sorry?” I ask.
“The crest on the nobleman’s carriage,” he clarifies. “What did it look like?”
Tira thinks. “It was blue, with a black bird on it, and a cup. The cup was yellow, maybe.”
The description seems vaguely familiar, but I can’t say why.
“Do you know it?” I ask Leon.
“You would’ve seen it at the palace,” he says to me. “Though you spent less time there than I did, so it’s understandable you don’t remember. It’s the Rosier crest.”
