“What does that mean?” Cathrynne had never heard the term.
Yarl glanced at the clock. It was five after nine. “She has great power at certain times of day. The mirror hours. Five fifty-five. Ten-ten. Eleven-eleven . . .”
“Three thirty-three,” Cathrynne said, her gut sinking.
Yarl nodded. “For that minute, she can move through time and space as if it were frozen. If she came here, she might have walked right past us and no one would remember her presence.”
Mercy muttered a curse. “Haniel examined him, didn’t she? She probably made sure the kaldurite was still in place, still hidden.”
Cathrynne eyed the open window. It was growing dark out. She stood up and closed the sash, then drew the curtains.
“Hanirl knew about the journey to Pota Pras, too, which neither of us had mentioned.”
Perhaps you were infected in the Zamir Hills.
A cold worm of dread burrowed into her heart. If the archangel of Satu Jos wanted Gavriel dead . . .
“We need to get him out of this province immediately,” Cathrynne said. “Haniel must have killed Casolaba too. Hung him from the dome when their partnership went wrong.”
“I’ll fetch a diligence,” Yarl said, heading for the door.
Mercy shook her head in amazement. “Is there anyone—anyone—in Kota Gelangi who isn’t part of this fucking conspiracy?”
Chapter 19
Cathrynne
The rooftop gave a wide vista of both the skies above and the streets below. Cathrynne crouched in the shadow of the wall, a chunk of antimony in her right palm. Bats swooped around her head, hunting insects, but she was watching for something larger and more purposeful—something like armored seraphim gliding through the darkness with murderous intent.
If Haniel knew the kaldurite had been found, she would try to kill Gavriel some other way. And this time she might succeed.
The first truly bitter night of the southern winter had arrived in gusting flurries of snow. Cathrynne’s fingers were stiff as she examined Yarl’s pocket watch: 9:55.
She blew out an impatient breath, watching the white fog dissipate. Ten-ten, the mirror hour when Haniel had the power to come and go unseen, was drawing near.
Yarl had left to hire a coach nearly an hour ago, heading to the train station where drivers congregated all night. What could be taking him so long? What if he had been captured? Interrogated?
Dire scenarios were filling her head when a large coach rounded the corner. It was a diligence, enclosed and sturdy, designed for long-distance travel. It halted before the townhouse and Yarl stepped out. He tilted his head, searching the roofline. Cathrynne raised her hand in a quick wave. Relief washed through her as she flew down the stairs.
Mercy waited at Gavriel’s bedside. “He’s no better,” she said grimly.
The kaldurite had been glued to his wing for almost two weeks, devouring his strength. It made Cathrynne furious to think she had sat next to him all that time with no clue that the cause of his ailment was within arm’s reach.
“It’s not too late,” she said stubbornly. “We can still save him. But we must get him out of Satu Jos.” She glanced at the window. “Yarl found a diligence. He’s waiting outside.”
“Thank Minerva,” Mercy said with quiet feeling.
Together, they positioned Gavriel on a makeshift sling made of a blanket. Cathrynne ensured his wings were tucked against his body. He was too fragile to withstand another shock.
“On three,” she said, taking his shoulders while Mercy moved to his feet. “One, two?—”
They lifted together, grunting with effort. Gavriel was still a big man. Add in his towering wings and he was not a light burden.
“Stairs will be tricky,” Mercy muttered, backing toward the door. “You want to go first or shall I?”
“I’ll take the lead.” Cathrynne adjusted her grip. “Watch the frame.”
They maneuvered him through the opening, Cathrynne walking backward. The descent down the stairs was a grueling exercise in coordination. Halfway down, Mercy’s foot caught on the carpet, nearly sending them all tumbling.
