Page 14 of A Traitor Sister (Remnants of the Fallen Kingdom #2)

14

LIDIANE

I don’t know why my legs feel soft like honey and my chest feels like a bottomless pit ready to swallow me as I follow Azur down the stairs.

Considering I’m about to join an enemy on a dangerous mission that could get me imprisoned—or worse—fear is not foolish, but wise. But not breathing properly will only make things even more difficult.

He takes me to his room again, and at least this time I don’t think he hopes to get between my legs. What does he want? Of course I’d love to think that someone is finally appreciating my amazing magic, but why does it have to be Renel’s pig?

When we reach Azur’s room, he closes the door, then turns to me and blinks, as if confused. “You’re afraid.”

Why did he have to notice it? Now he’s going to think I’m a pathetic coward.

“I’m… surprised.” My voice comes out way too weak. I try to speak louder. “Startled, maybe.”

I don’t know what’s going on with me and why my heart feels like a dragonfly wing.

He watches me, his expression indecipherable. “You don’t have to come.” He sounds so sad, so disappointed.

No! Now he’s hitting me where it hurts the most: my pride. “I’m absolutely confident in my magic. And I already said I was going.”

His stare travels over my face slowly, as if searching for an answer hidden in my eyes or lips. “You don’t trust me.”

Did he just realize it now? I mutter, “I barely know you.”

He keeps staring, his lips parted, his breath deep and slow. I might dislike him, but I can’t deny he’s beautiful.

My heart speeds up, and the truth is I can’t stand even one more second here, in his dim room, just the two of us standing so close, so I say, “Let’s go. I think it’s the waiting that’s making me anxious.”

He tosses his hat onto his bed, then reaches out and holds my hands. I don’t know what I was expecting to feel, but it sure wasn’t something akin to being hit by lightning and having darkness itself consume me.

I suppose he has a faerie ring right in his room, considering we’re already gone, and I feel like I’m being turned upside down even though I’m certain that I’m still standing. I have transcended with Nelsin and my brother before, and it was never like this. Nothing was ever like this.

The darkness subsides, revealing bright light and blue sky around us. Beneath me, there’s firm ground, but not a lot—just a small circle, smaller than my house. We must be on top of a tower.

From here, I can hear the ocean clearly, that horrific roaring that shakes my bones, a lullaby for corpses, calling me to that infinite depth where claws, teeth, and tentacles lay waiting. A shiver runs from my toes to my scalp.

We’re near the shore, probably close to the Jewel City—a horrific place where all lower fae are enchanted. As if that wasn’t enough, the dreadful city has to be by the sea, by those nameless and named horrors I struggle to ignore.

For a second, I wonder what I’m doing here, but then remember this is an opportunity to try to figure out Azur and maybe help five innocent fae. With a deep breath, I tell myself to ignore the ocean and focus.

It’s when I realize that I’m still holding Azur’s hand—and let it go. The feeling of his fingers around mine doesn’t fade, though, and it’s not that I’m disgusted, even though I wish I were. I step towards the edge to see where we are, but Azur places an arm in front of me.

“Wait. While most fae won’t look up, we don’t want to risk being seen—yet.” Without the hat, wisps of his sandy hair move with the wind, some of the gold turning silver under the sunlight. He’s too annoyingly pretty, and I think he knows it, which makes it a thousand times worse.

“I’m just wondering where we are,” I say. “Also, did you just transcend straight from your bedroom?”

“Yes,” he mutters, his tone slightly curt, as if refusing to expand on it. “Can you give us a light glamour not to be noticed?”

His words are like a bucket of water hitting my stomach. He knows I can do that.

At this point, trying to evade his request will only look ridiculous. And yet something about it bugs me. “You saw through my glamour. How do you know other fae won’t see through it as well?”

He blinks slowly. “I’m different. There’s nothing wrong with your magic.”

His magic must be quite strong to see through glamours.

“Right. Let’s hope whatever I do now works.”

“I’m sure it will.”

Absolute confidence in my magic. Why don’t I ever get that from a decent fae?

He closes his eyes, his lashes caressing his face, as I hover my hands around his head. I could kill him now, and yet the thought dies as soon as it crosses my mind. Killing someone when they lend you their trust is vile and shameful. And this; closing his eyes in front of me, is a type of trust.

Of course, there’s no need to close your eyes to get glamour done, but I’m not going to tell him that and miss my chance at a respite from his deep blue, disconcerting stare.

The glamour I do on him is not as strong as what I can achieve with the capes, since it’s not bound to a physical object, but I think it should be enough. Once I finish, it doesn’t look like it’s properly done, though. I can still see him as clearly as before, and I think I would still spot him among a crowd of a thousand, but I decide to trust my magic.

“Done,” I say.

His eyes pop open, zeroed in on me. He turns and points to the edge of the tower, then blows some air from the surface near it, I suppose to get rid of the dust there. He kneels, then lies belly down, so that only his face is outside the tower, looking down.

Am I really going to lie beside Azur? Oh, well, it’s likely the safest way to look down, so I do what he just did, making sure there’s a palm between us, and leaving only the top of my head off the roof, looking down.

All right. I was expecting to see the Jewel City from afar.

It is far, but far below us.

We’re on top of a tower right in the middle of it. I can see the lazy waters of the Solemn River with the hundreds of houses on its shore, the tall Jewell Wall surrounding the city everywhere but by the river, and even part of the Solemn Port on the other side, with ships far onto the sea. The sea is so close that I can feel it cooling my insides, as I’m closer to it than I ever thought I’d be.

Still, what’s surprising is being here, in this city where I’m most definitely not allowed. And the part that’s even more surprising is how right this feels, as if I belonged here.

Without looking at him, I say, “I thought you couldn’t transcend into the Jewel City.”

“ I can.” He says it as if stating he can walk from one room to another, and yet there’s a trace of pride there.

I’m intrigued, so I try to pry more information from him, and say, “Most fae can’t.”

“None other, as far as I know.” Again that mild, calm tone, stating something extraordinary as if he was describing the weather.

How powerful is Azur? I try not to let the shock get to me, and decide to use the opportunity to ask another question, under the guise of being playful. “How does it feel to be that unique?”

“Everyone’s unique,” he mumbles, this time with a slight hint of annoyance, then he points down. “See there? The beige building with two floors and a golden door? That’s the Inquiry House.”

It’s not exactly under us, but two blocks ahead, on a cobbled street with so many trees that they hide a good part of the building. Two fae guards stand at the entrance, but other than that, it doesn’t seem to have that much security—which makes sense. The Jewel City itself is the security.

“What’s your plan?” I ask.

“Can you see their faces from here?”

“Yes, but… I’m not sure it’s enough to do a lookalike glamour.”

“We’ll go down and look at them from up close. I just want you to know who to notice. Here we won’t be overheard, but down there we might, so when we descend, we need to know exactly what to do.”

“I can do that. Sure.” Something about this situation, about being alone with Azur, feels awkward. “Why are you so sure nobody will come up here?”

He shrugs. “Nobody can fly in, out, or above the Jewel. This is the bell tower, the tallest in the city, too tall and difficult to climb.”

“You’re familiar with this city.” I don’t know why the idea bothers me. Of course he’s used to the Crystal Court Jewel .

“A little.” He turns to me. “I’m sure you hate it. I’m sorry you have to see it.”

His sympathetic tone confuses me, and I look down again, down at the sprawling city beneath us, intrigued by those cobbled streets filled with people walking by as if they had all the time in the world, fascinated and horrified by the calm and peace down there.

“It’s strange,” I say, as I’m taking in the sights below me. “I’ve always heard about the horrors of the Jewel City, the place where lower fae are enslaved, and I thought it would be gloomy, depressing, that it would show signs of its violence. And yet you look down and see fae going on about their lives as if nothing was happening. People sit in restaurants, some of them laugh together, couples walk down holding hands. They live as if they were in a happy little village. Can’t they see it? Are they really that blind to the suffering of the lower fae?”

I turn to him and meet his eyes, now glinting with anger—and realize I might have spoken too much. For a second, I want to mumble that I meant no offense, but the words won’t come out, of course. I meant every word I said. I might as well finish my thought, so I ask, “Don’t they have any shame?”

“Shame?” There’s amusement and derision in his tone. “They think the opulence of this city is a sign of their superiority.”

His reply stuns me, and yet won’t quench my anger, so I ask, “Are they that dumb?”

He tilts his head. “It’s not about being dumb—or blind. Not exactly, I don’t think. Nobody wants to think they’re evil, nobody would want to admit they’re morally corrupt. It means they’ll believe in the story that will support their moral high ground, that will prove to them that they’re the good guys.”

I laugh. “They can’t think they’re good.”

“Oh, yes, they’re certain of that. And this is the Jewel. For them, the sign of their superiority. See, it’s safer, cleaner, and richer than any other place in the kingdom. They think it’s because they’re so amazing, not because of all the enchanted servants, all the slave work.”

I shake my head, annoyed at all the citizens of the Jewel, and yet at the same time glad to find someone who understands me, someone with whom I can be honest about the way I feel. For a second, I imagine us two freeing all the lower fae, changing the world together. For a second, I imagine us together.

Then sanity returns to me and I remember who I’m talking to.

“Aren’t you high fae?”

His body tenses and he bites his lips. “I don’t think high fae are superior, and I don’t think lower fae should be enslaved.”

“But you support Renel, the fae making sure?—”

“Some things are older than Renel’s reign.”

“Does he think all fae are equal?”

“Careful there.” He raises a finger. “As his bound guardian, I’m not allowed to utter any negative words about him, nor tolerate them.”

“Aren’t you allowed to praise him? If he thinks?—”

“Don’t ask me about Renel.” He’s practically snarling. “Don’t mention him.”

“Fine.” I shrug.

He waggles a finger by my face. “I mean it.”

I push his hand down. “I won’t mention your dear master. Don’t worry.”

Azur swallows. If he’s trying to swallow down his fury, he’s doing a poor job, as his eyes look like bulging, angry blue flames. At least that makes him look as far from pretty as he can get. Still pretty, though.

The downside is that I’m on top of a tower, in the middle of a city where I’m not welcome, alone with an extremely powerful and now extremely furious fae.

ZIVEN

L ooking at the clouds from above as the world zips beneath me was an experience I never thought I’d have. It makes all my effort to stay alive worth it.

Of course, the annoying part is the grumpy fae prince breathing on my neck. Fine, he’s not that close, and with that much wind, any air he exhales will be blown behind us. Still, I get the feeling his eyes are burning holes in the back of my head, and that he’s furious at me for merely existing.

And yet his reason for traveling is fair. If I had a sister, and if I liked that sister, I would want to rescue her.

We land at a desert beach with coarse sand and angry, powerful waves hitting it. Such a magnificent ocean.

I wonder where we are, but I don’t want to ask, since the touchy prince will probably get annoyed. I just hope we reach the tower soon—and that everything goes well. I’m not na?ve enough to think it’s not going to be dangerous.

Marlak takes a moment to hug Cherry Cake, then it flies and soon disappears in the sky. I have the impression that it truly vanishes, as if skipping into another dimension, but I’m not sure.

“We’re in the Icy Lands,” Marlak gruffs.

“That’s… close, I suppose.”

He nods.

The air is warm, and there’s no ice to be seen. “I thought—” I give up on asking my question, knowing my companion’s temper.

“What?”

I’d better finish my stupid thought. “I thought there would be ice.”

“It’s summer. There is some ice and snow in the mountains, and some blocks of ice left by the ice golems, and that’s it.”

“Isn’t this too hot for the ice golems?”

“I think when it’s warm like this, they take shelter during the day and come out at night, when it’s cooler.”

“So that’s when we’ll need to be careful.”

“We’ll have reached our destination by then. Let’s go.”

A queasy feeling takes over me. The night is the worst time to get to an ancient, magical prison. Perhaps a cursed prison.

And then not reaching our destination will mean sleeping out in the open, where ice golems and who knows what other monsters can find us.

A chill runs up my spine, even if the breeze is not yet cool enough to be the cause of it. I truly did not think this through.

LIDIANE

A zur might be furious, and murderous thoughts might be crossing his mind. Was it because I said Renel’s his master? Why does an obvious piece of truth have to hurt him like that?

I recall then that he promised me I’d return safely to the castle, so if this talk has made him want to kill me, he’ll have to wait. On the other hand, I’m not bound by any promise to keep him safe.

Perhaps I could use this opportunity to take down Renel’s most valuable ally. It would be a chance to weaken the false king. The question is how, when Azur is so powerful.

Then I consider what he just said about the lower fae and the fact he’s here to rescue some of them, and wonder if killing him is a good idea. Perhaps I don’t need to decide right now. What I need to do is earn his trust. That way, once I make up my mind, I can strike.

I place a hand on his shoulder. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I’m not angry at you.” His voice is soft.

Azur is weird. He then stares at my hand on his shoulder, and I really wish he didn’t make such a big deal out of it, because now I don’t know if I can pull it back.

Even though he’s lying down, I notice his chest expanding and contracting in a deep breath, then he smiles and looks at me. “What should I call you? Not your name, but I need to know what to call you.”

I chuckle while taking the opportunity to remove my hand from his shoulder. “ You works.”

“Then what am I going to call you in my head?”

“ She ? Her ? That works too, you know?”

“Fair.” A hint of melancholy taints his voice, and for some silly reason, it tugs my insides.

It’s not like my name is a big secret, and I’m definitely not one of the ancient fae for whom names carry any power either. It’s a great opportunity to make him believe I trust him. I’m about to tell him, but he puts a hand over my lips.

“Don’t.” A shadow crosses his eyes. “Don’t tell me.”

“What if it comes out by accident?” My tone is playful, but part of me is wondering why he’s so scared.

“Be mindful.” His voice is sharp like a dagger. He then points down to the city again. “Look.” A tall fae man with long silver hair is entering the building. “That one.”

All I see is the back of the man’s head. “I couldn’t see his face.”

“Did you notice his clothes? Blue shirt with silver embroidery, black pants.”

“Calfskin leather pants, silk shirt with loose shoulders and a tighter waist, last Selise’s style embroidery. Yes, I noticed it.”

“Right.” I don’t know if he’s surprised, impressed, or if he just realized I might be a dressmaker. It’s not a huge secret either. He continues, “I’ll poke you when we cross him. He’s an important constable and one of the fae we might have to impersonate.”

“I’ll recognize him.”

Azur nods, his eyes focused on the Inquiry House. I look down at the city again, and all the happy, oblivious citizens. Perhaps selfish citizens. Here and there, in corners, almost hidden, I see lower fae cleaning, serving, tending gardens. I always wonder what it’s like to be enchanted like that.

Are they aware of what they’re doing and yet unable to escape it, as if imprisoned in their own bodies? Is it like a dream? Are their minds numb? Too few fae had their enchantment broken, and it was usually done by their masters. Those fae don’t recall much of their time of servitude, but it doesn’t mean that they weren’t awake, suffering through each second. A shudder shakes my body, and then I notice Azur staring at me.

“You’re upset,” he says.

“Not upset, just—wondering what it’s like to live here. For the people who are enchanted.”

He bites his lip, looks at the city, then back at me. “It’s normal to feel for others. Once you stop, you lose yourself.”

“Do you feel for the lower fae?”

His lips part, inhaling air quickly, then he looks down. “Yes. My empathy is intact, despite my role.” He chuckles. “Or is it because of it?”

“You don’t like to be a guardian?”

“You’re truly asking me if I enjoy being bound?” There’s a note of sadness in his voice. “I fear your question veers too close to the subject I already asked you not to mention.”

The subject being Renel. Is Azur implying that he doesn’t like to be a bound guardian? Is that what I’m supposed to conclude? Doesn’t make any sense.

“A bound guardian… That’s a voluntary role, isn’t it?” I ask, keeping my voice light and my tone curious. “They can’t force you to do it. Or am I wrong?”

He runs a hand through his shiny blond hair. “Voluntary, of course. And I never said I didn’t like to serve Renel.”

“So you like it?”

“What do you think?” His glare fades in a second, and he points down to the Inquiry House. “Pay attention. Someone we might need to impersonate could step in or out at any minute.”

I look at the entrance of the building, and yet my mind is not really focused there. Can it be that Azur isn’t really Renel’s ally? That he dislikes his role? But he confirmed that his position as a bound guardian is voluntary, meaning that he chose this. Then again, do I know anything about his life before he became Renel’s dog?

Any sane person would let the subject rest, but the right time to poke at embers to rekindle a fire is when they’re still hot. And annoyed people don’t watch their words as carefully as they should.

“Hypothetically,” I say. “And I’m not talking about you. I’m curious because you’re the first bound guardian I have an opportunity to talk to. So, hypothetically, can a bound guardian quit their role?”

His nostrils flare, and I can see a line forming on his forehead. I don’t think he liked my question. Still, he takes a deep breath, then says, “Bindings can be unbound, of course, but they’re always tricky.”

“Could you quit if you wanted to?”

“Your question assumes that a guardian would want to abandon their task, and that would contradict the essence of their role. A bound guardian is loyal. Always loyal. It’s who we are.”

This time, there’s a hint of pride in his words. So I guess he likes to serve the sham king. It means I can keep calling him Renel’s pig. I smile. “Makes sense. Well, it’s a fascinating job.”

“Yes, enthralling. Now let’s focus.” He points to the city again.

Apparently, my ability to keep quiet is nonexistent. But I have to try to understand him. “Does Renel know you’re here?”

Azur inhales sharply. “Mention him once again, and I’ll leave you on this roof.”

“You promised to return me to the castle safely by nightfall.”

He smirks. “I didn’t, actually. I only said that was my goal. Never said I couldn’t change it.”

Right. Now I’m feeling like the biggest idiot of all idiots, having agreed with his plan without checking his words, perhaps taken by curiosity, perhaps mesmerized by his eyes. I don’t even like blue eyes! Except for his, perhaps, but it’s not my fault they’re so pretty.

I scoff. “Well played, guardian .”

He stares at me for a moment, as if a calm, friendly stare could erase his words. “I still don’t want you to be harmed, and still want to make sure you’re back to the castle by nightfall. Just don’t mention him.”

I nod. Of course I can avoid mentioning his stupid master. Of course I can swallow all my questions. And of course I can let my curiosity itch me until I want to scream. Annoying, but not the end of the world.

“Also,” Azur adds, “Don’t kill anyone.”

I’m sure I make a bizarre grimace. “I wasn’t…”

“If things go wrong. You can make deals with living fae, but won’t be able to explain or hide a dead body.”

“Right.” The idea that he has thought this through is disconcerting, but it’s another proof he won’t kill me—just perhaps enchant and imprison me, which is not exactly a relief.

My attention turns to the Inquiry House, where some more fae walk in and out, none of them wearing any uniform, so I assume they aren’t guards, but work there. They tend to wear more delicately embroidered clothes than what I was used to seeing in Serenade, and their cuts are what I would consider a little passe, but it might be because of their walls and isolation.

A young man with long brown hair exits the building.

“That one,” Azur whispers. “It should work.”

As I’m noticing the style of the man’s shirt, I feel Azur’s hand around mine, then feel the ground below me disappearing, replaced by darkness, then replaced by dirt, roots, and pebbles. We’re under a tree, in one of the city gardens, close to a pebbled street, but none of the passers-by turn to look at us.

I get up and try to swipe away some dust from my dress, when I feel a gust of air around my clothes, so strong that it removes all the dirt at once.

Azur smiles. “There. All clean.” Then, in a lower voice, he adds, “Great glamour.”

I suppose he thinks my magic is the reason nobody noticed us, but in truth, I wasn’t expecting to transcend right in the middle of the Jewel.

“You should have warned me,” I say.

He tosses his hair back. “They won’t look too much at two fae frolicking in the grass.”

Nobody’s walking by, so I change my hair to straight and brown, then lighten my skin. I approach him and have to stretch my hands to get near his head, but I turn his hair brown, give him an upturned nose, and make his eyes bulgy. I make my dress looser and give him a silk shirt with that intricate embroidery I saw so much around this city. Something doesn’t feel right with the glamour I put on him. Beneath the bulgy eyes, beneath the brown hair, I can still see him, as if there was no way to erase his presence. And yet the glamour was done correctly, the way I always do it.

I decide to trust it, and say, “Now we’re good.”

“Flawless.” He looks down at himself, then raises his eyes and stares at me. “You managed to impress me.”

That comment makes me chuckle. “Basic glamour. Let’s not exaggerate.”

“Nothing’s basic about this. Or you.”

My heart speeds up, but then he changes his tone and says, “Let’s go.”

And like that, I’m walking by Renel’s guardian in the most despicable fae city ever, still struck by its calm and peaceful sheen.

I realize we’re some three blocks from the inquiry house, in a street with restaurants, all mostly empty except for groups of people casually talking, having a late breakfast.

We turn a corner, and then I feel Azur’s hand on my arm. The first man is walking ahead of us—meaning that I still can’t see his face, which is a problem.

“We’ll cross him later,” Azur whispers.

He pulls me to another street and we walk fast, almost running, until we return to that first street just in time to see the man. Aquiline nose, small eyes, even more embroidery on the front part of his shirt. I can create a glamour like him, no issues.

We keep walking, this time slowly, until we cross the second man on another street. This one has a more classic face, which actually makes it harder to mimic him.

“It won’t be perfect,” I whisper.

“Not a problem. Did you see enough?”

“Yes.”

We walk away from that place, turn a corner to an empty street, then he pulls me to a wall alcove where we stand face to face, my heart getting so loud all of a sudden.

“Do it,” he says. “I’ll be the first fae, and you’ll be the second. We’ll walk in together.”

I bring to mind the image of them, both from behind and the front, the details of their clothes, their body types, facial features, then hover my hands around Azur and make the change. I still see him beneath it all, as if I could never erase his presence, but at this point, I’m thinking that perhaps it’s me. Perhaps I’m the one who can’t forget what the real Azur looks like, and I don’t want to think too much about the reason why it’s happening.

Then I change myself. To be honest, it’s the first time I’m trying to look like a man. The biggest issue is the voice, especially because I’ve never heard him, but I’m assuming I won’t do any talking.

We’re about to break into a high-security building, and the thought makes my heart jump. It also makes me decide to tell him that the glamour isn’t quite right. “I… still see you. You’re still there.”

He looks at his arms and his glamoured long sleeves. “It looks fine. The fact you’re seeing through means your sight is good, not that your glamour is bad.”

True, but I was never able to see through my own glamour before, and the idea of this power suddenly worries me. I lower my voice to an almost inaudible whisper. “Some fae can see through glamours or detect them.”

Azur winks. It’s him, through and through, underneath a translucent layer of magic. “It’s why we’ll be quick, before anyone notices us. Let’s go.”

We leave the alcove and walk back in the direction of the inquiry house. It’s when I realize I have no idea how he plans to move five fae from that place or how he plans to deal with the guards there.

So many signs that this is a trap awaiting me. So many things that could go wrong, and yet there’s no way back now.

Nobody notices us as we walk to the Inquiry House, and the guards don’t even blink when we walk into it. There’s indeed a lot less security than a building like this would have in a normal fae city, which tends to deal with lower fae on a daily basis. They’re always trying to find ways to trap us, enslave us, but here, there isn’t any new lower fae to be trapped, so I can imagine all they do is deal with petty disputes among higher fae.

The entrance is a circular room with a dark marble floor, with two fae sitting on a circular seat, with large books beside them. One of these fae, a young woman, looks at me as if surprised. “Back already?”

“New orders,” Azur says, his voice deeper than usual.

I look at her and shrug as if confirming his words, even if I’m not sure the man I’m impersonating would do that.

Azur keeps walking towards a door on the right, and I follow him. We pass two guards, then descend two flights of stone stairs. Musky air greets me when we reach the bottom, a long corridor with some ten windowless cells, illuminated only by lightstones.

One guard sits at the entrance and stares at us in surprise. “What are you?—”

“Orders,” Azur says, then keeps walking.

Two cells have young high fae in them, but most of them are empty.

Azur whispers, “Don’t worry about the guards. I’m changing the air to make them confused.”

“You can do that?” I whisper back.

“Air’s my element.”

I meant that I didn’t know that air magic could make people confused, but this is not the time to discuss magical skills.

At the end of the hall, we reach a small cell containing the lower fae. Five men, wearing guard uniforms, sitting quietly against a wall of the cell, their eyes unfocused, like puppets when you put them back on the shelf. Two of them have purple skin, one is smaller like a pixie, but wingless, and two of them look like high fae but with horns. They remind me of some fae in the village where I grew up. They’re also someone’s sons, brothers, perhaps even fathers, torn from their lives by some cruel trick of destiny.

I hear a sharp stream of air. The lock clicks, then Azur pushes the door open.

We’re too far from the guard at the entrance, who probably didn’t notice that Azur used air magic to unlock the door. Another use of air I had never heard before—not that I’ve met many air wielders, of course, but I’d assume more fae would be aware that they could open locks, if it was something common.

We enter the cell, and Azur says, “Get up.” The men obey at once.

I’m still unsure how we’re going to get them out of this building or this city, but Azur sounds confident enough—until he looks at me, eyes wide in fear.

Steps echo in the hallway. Someone’s coming, and there’s something different about this person if they rattled Azur this much.

It can only mean that we’re deep in trouble.