“Any updates on the Night Bringer?” I ask as I begin to pace. More distraction. I need more.
“He is moving and scheming as usual, but he is good at keeping his intentions unvoiced. The Night Terror has groups of wraiths settling in various places around the realm. It seems they are trying to cover up any connection between the Whirling Court and the wraiths at present. The Night Bringer has also made contact the nomad in the Twisted Forest.”
My stomach churns. “And?”
“I do not know where the nomad stands on the conflict; he has made no definitive promises and has not changed his usual behavior. But even if he does side with the Night Ancients, it will not change our plans.”
“We can’t become complacent,” I mutter. “We should act before they do.”
“Act how? The only course of action we have is to rouse the Lady of the Lake.”
Sleep weighs on my mind as we talk through all of the same things we’ve talked about for days. I consistently need the reminder that we are waging a war the people around me do not see. He is still there, waiting for the moment to strike.
“But Reveln does not want to rouse her without permission from his ally in the Crackling Court.”
I sigh. “I know. I made that promise too—that I’d at least tell him before I do anything. But what are we waiting for?”
“It doesn’t hurt to strengthen your court before we force the battle to commence.”
I purse my lips. “I just want it to be over, one way or another.”
“I understand. You are feeling a lot of pressure.”
I nod and shift my gaze out the dark window to the courtyard beyond. The leaves of the overgrown shadow maples rustle serenely.
“Where is Raven?” I whisper, expecting the answer to be that he doesn’t know. Not in the fae world. Outside of our reach. But instead, the book is quiet.
Another silent moment passes, and I sit up quickly. My vision peppers black with the quick movement. “Where is Raven?” I repeat more forcefully. It’s been several days since I’ve asked the question. During my days in the Frost Court, I asked multiple times per day, and the answer was always the same. Eventually, I stopped asking.
“She is with Blane.”
“Where?”
Another pause, and I am ready to wring the book’s neck. “In the Glistening Forest, currently.”
My breath catches, stomach clenching. Is this good news? Or bad? “What is she doing? Is she okay? How long has she been in the fae realm?”
The book again delays in responding, but before I can react, it finally speaks. “She is currently well and in not direct danger. She has been in the fae realm for three days.”
Three days.I blink. She’s been here for three days and he hasn’t told me about it.
“What are they doing here?”
“They are seeking to uncover Drake’s plans.”
I release a trembling breath.
“Drake’s plans,” I repeat. My breaths come out much faster. “They don’t know Drake’s plans?”
“They know very little.”
“What... what are their intentions then? Are they not working with Drake?”
“They are not working with Drake or the Night Bringer.”
My eyebrows furrow, and I frown down at the leather tome sitting on a table by the window. My heart pounds rapidly, all thoughts of sleep gone from my mind.
“Were they ever working with them?” I ask slowly.
