But he was already gone, his wings carrying him into the darkening sky.
The Lenormand mansion stood in the oldest and grandest part of the city, a testament to centuries of mining wealth. Gavriel pounded on the door. He was soaked to the skin from a sudden cloudburst, and a chill settled into his bones. He was still weak, though he would not let them see it.
His pounding was answered by Nestania herself. “How dare you come to my home?” she hissed.
“How dare you lie to me?” he countered. “I’ve been out of my mind with worry and she’s been here all along!”
Nestania’s eyes narrowed. “And what claim do you have on her, Lord Morningstar? Your kind has brought nothing but heartache to this family. I’m only protecting my granddaughter from further suffering.”
Her dart hit home. Yet he could not leave without seeing her.
“I have no intention of causing Cathrynne pain,” he said tightly.
“You already have,” Nestania snapped.
They stared at each other.
“Let me inside,” he said, trying hard to master his temper, “or I will take this matter to the Morag?—”
“Who’s at the door?”
Another witch appeared. She had long dark hair and looked too young to be Cathrynne’s mother.
“Go back inside, Lara,” Nestania said irritably. “Lord Morningstar was just leaving.”
Lara arched a brow. “That’s funny, he doesn’t look like he’s going anywhere to me.”
“This is not your concern, Lara?—”
“Maybe I should tell Cathrynne. Let her decide.”
Nestania looked furious, but Lara seemed weary of her meddling.
“She’s a grown woman. You have no right, grandmother.”
“She swore me to secrecy?—”
“Not from him.”
Nestania looked as though she would rather cut off her own hand, but she stepped back. “You can have ten minutes,” she said.
“I’ll take you to her room,” Lara offered.
He gave her a grateful look. “Thank you.”
The Lenormand home was spacious and adorned with treasures from across Sion—artwork, statues, vases—but the decor barely registered. They climbed a flight of stairs. Lara opened a door at the end of the hall.
Cathrynne lay on a narrow bed, a quilt pulled up to her chest. Her face was bruised, and she looked terribly thin. Their eyes met. She said his name, and then he was rushing forward to kneel at her bedside. The way her face lit up was like stepping into sunlight after years of darkness.
“Gavriel,” she exclaimed, “you came! I thought you’d gone back to Arioch.”
“What?” He frowned. “Of course not. I’ve been searching for you for days!”
He had a powerful urge to to take her in his arms and carry her home to Everfell. Nurse her back to health. And then tear whoever had done this limb from limb.
“Ten minutes,” Nestania reminded him. “She needs her rest.”
Cathrynne scowled. “I’m fine.”
