Page 44 of Blackheart

The silence surrounding us suddenly felt very loud. I surveyed for threats. What would I even do if there were any? I had no weapons or training.

Nothing good ever came from using my Nature. I would use my fist before it came to trying that again. Vomiting in front of the Sapphire had taught me enough of a lesson.

I tried urging Kostini to push further, but he refused.

“Fine,” I said. The orb and the horse were evidently in charge. Perhaps I’d consider the orb a Witchlord and Kostini a Draker.

“I suppose an orb like youdidkill an Imp. Perhaps you could be a Witchlord,” I chuckled, tapping the orb again. It glowed dimly in response. It had a sense of humor.

Thankful to have a light again, I dismounted.

Kostini whinnied and scratched at the ground.

I took the bags with me. Riven’s was heavy on my back, while mine annoyingly hung off my good shoulder. I made it about ten feet before hitting what felt like a wall.

I stepped back and tapped the orb, urging it to produce more light. It flashed defiantly, as if telling me to stop. I placed my hand out into the air, and there it was again—the feeling of a wall. Either it was completely invisible, or I was losing my mind. I laid my hand flat against it, walking slowly to the right, feeling for an end.

Suddenly, a hand grabbed me, yanking me through.

Chapter 15

The Vodka, and Then The Ransom

“A midwinter rose has bloomed. Prepare accordingly.”

—Anonymous correspondence from Lyonsreach to Lord Xavian Steele

I barely caughtmyself before tripping onto the ground.

“Mother of fucking Moons,” I cursed. I lifted my chin, taking in the surprising sight of a golden manor. Floating throughout the air were fiery bulbs of crackling lights, like enchanted lanterns patrolling the sky.

“Hello,” a young woman said from my right. She smiled, tilting her head curiously.

A thick silver braid fell to her waist, swaying against a strappy sheer gown that hugged her narrow frame. Her skin was icy pale, and her eyes a light green. She was the last thing I expected someone living out in the deep woods to look like.

Kostini stood behind me, yet it was obvious he could not see me, nor the manor. It was masked entirely.

This was blood magic.

Shit.

Other women of all colors and sizes lurked outside the estate, doing a terrible job of discreetly eavesdropping and all wearing equally revealing gowns.

There were no men in sight. On a typical day, I’d be thanking the heavens. But no men meant no sign of Riven either, and I needed his help if I was ever going to make it to Castivian.

“Don’t worry, Elora, we’ll retrieve your horse,” the woman said, boldly grabbing my hand.

My hand, aBlackheart'shand. This woman was either entirely unafraid or painfully unaware. How did she know my name?

I pulled away. “I can get my own horse just fine.”

Her face fell as she drew her own hands back, as if her feelings were hurt.

Blood magic was the only logical explanation for the illusion hiding the manor. Yet, she did not act like a Sapphire at all, and she certainly did not look like any of the Sapphires that had attacked the Waywards. There was no sign of power or the hunger for it in her gaze. She looked broken more than anything.

“It’s very late. You’re welcome to join us. Sir Riven is inside too, if that’s why you’ve come.”

My lips pressed into a flat line.