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“What was she doing in yours?”

Enid was silent for a long time. Long enough that Avenay glanced back again. Enid pursed her lips, deep in thought, the stoic wall now gone, only fear and sadness there instead.

“It was that day, eleven years ago. And she was there. I don’t know if the illusion was trying to make her out as the one who killed our family, or if she—”

Avenay shut her hearing down, letting it go back to a normal listening level. That was too personal, too vulnerable, and they were whispering. She would let them have that moment.

They continued on for hours more, finally finding a winding deer trail in the forest to follow. Trees with long, willowy limbs and thorns waved around them, tangling with her hair and clothes, making her spend too much energy dodging them. Finally, when she was about ready to scream from frustration, they stepped out of the brush and onto a proper path. It was grown over, but much clearer than where they had been. It was still difficult to see too far ahead, the trees and brush coming up around them and the path winding around.

Onora halted, hand instantly going to her side,and Avenay leaned around to see the tip of a sword came in front of the Hunter’s face.

In a moment, Onora had her sword out and she had maneuvered around it, placing a dagger at the male’s throat in front of them. His eyes widened in shock, his arm still outstretched.

Avenay gasped. The male was a tall seraph with fiery red and orange wings.

Cyrus.

He and two other seraphs of the royal guard stood with swords out. She could only think of one reason he would be here, and it wasn’tgood for her. Instinctively, she placed her hand over her satchel withThe Tales of Lemia, taking a small step back.

“Stand down, human,” Cyrus said. “We’re here for Avenay only.”

Onora glanced behind her. “I’ve been tasked with protecting her. So no, I won’t stand down.”

Cyrus frowned, then suddenly the dagger fell away from her, clattering on the ground. She hissed, pulling her hand back. A small section of her pale skin puffed and blistered, turning an angry red. He’d used his flame abilities on her.

“Don’t fight,” Avenay said, stepping forward. “Cyrus, what are you doing here?”

“I think you know, Avenay,” Cyrus said, his voice like a crack of thunder.

She gripped the straps of her bag tighter. “I’m sure I don’t.”

The lie bled through every syllable, the weight of the tome in her bag heavy. She’d meant to be home before anyone noticed, meant to return it long ago. But her plans had changed.

Cyrus crossed his arms. “You took a small book of great value, didn’t you?”

She pursed her lips. “I’d hardly call it small. Did you know it was the first book of that size to be properly bound in one volume?”

A low growl rumbled in Cyrus’s chest. “You stole from the Great Library!”

She winced. “Well, I wouldn’t say that Istole. I have every intention of returning the book.”

Cyrus grabbed her wrist, tugging her closer to him.

“Unhand her,” Enid commanded.

Cyrus’s gaze flicked to Enid for one annoyed second. “You’re coming back with me. Now. We don’t have time to waste. Lord Ilu thinks he can get your sentence reduced to only a few months on good behavior.”

Avenay ground her jaw. A few months?

“How is Seraphina?” she asked.

Cyrus’s anger abated for half a second before returning. “She’d be doing better if her sister wasn’t off chasing wild fables.”

“I told you to unhand her,” Enid said, her voice steady and dark as night.

“Don’t interfere, Enid Erebus, or you’ll have to answer to the Archangel of Lesern—ow!”

A string of writhing, dark shadows whipping across his arm cut his words off. He released Avenay, and she stepped back, standing instinctively close to Enid, whose wings curled in, protecting her.