Page 53 of Dark Bringer (Lord of Everfell #1)

Gavriel

H e landed on Suriel’s private balcony, visions of retribution thundering in his head. He no longer cared about the empire’s delicate balance of power, nor about the laws he had spent a lifetime enforcing.

He did not care that Nestania was entirely correct in claiming that Cathrynne’s disappearance was “witch business” and none of his.

He did not care that Arioch wasn’t in his province, and he had no jurisdiction here.

All he cared about was getting Cathrynne back. If that meant storming the chapter house and extracting answers by force, so be it.

Gavriel’s sister was waiting for him in her personal chamber, wearing a green silk turban and serene expression.

“The witches know something,” he snarled before she could speak.

“Gavriel—”

“If our father won’t intervene, we’ll do it ourselves. Summon your seraphim guards. Put them under my command?—”

“Calm down,” Suriel said with exasperation. “I have found her.”

The world stopped. He drew a ragged breath, fear and hope warring within him. “Alive?”

“Yes.”

His wings trembled. “Where is she?”

Suriel’s brown eyes were grave. “You will not like what I’ve discovered, brother.”

“Just tell me,” he pleaded.

“She’s with her birth family. The Lenormands.”

Gavriel’s brow furrowed. “The Lenormands? I just spoke to Nestania. She denied any knowledge!”

That cunning old witch.

“Cathrynne is Hysto Lenormand’s daughter.” Suriel watched him carefully. “Her father was an angel named Alluin Westwind.”

The memory surfaced with agonizing clarity. A disgraced seraphim kneeling before him, convicted of breaking his oath with a witch lover. Gavriel himself had wielded the Rod of Penance, had spoken the words of exile.

“Oh, gods,” he whispered.

Suriel nodded grimly. “I didn’t make the connection myself until one of my birds saw her at the Lenormands’ home. Then I dug a bit deeper.” Her voice gentled. “You couldn’t have known, Gavriel.”

But he should have remembered. “Does she know?” he asked.

“That you sentenced her father? Of course not, how could she? No one outside Mount Meru is privy to the details of angelic trials. As you’re well aware.” Suriel laid a hand on his shoulder. “I fell in love with a mortal once. It only led to heartbreak.”

“I never said I loved her.”

“You don’t need to.”

He drew a ragged breath. “She’s with her family now? Safe?”

“Yes.”

Gavriel studied his sister’s face. “You’re withholding something.”

“Promise to remain calm.”

“Just tell me.”

She sighed. “Someone mistreated her.”

Blind rage returned, swift and hot. “Who?”

“I don’t know.”

Gavriel moved to the archway, wings unfurling.

“Brother!” Suriel called after him. “Think before you act. The Lenormands are powerful. And whatever is between you and this cypher?—”

But he was already gone, his wings carrying him into the darkening sky.

* * *

The Lenormand mansion stood in the oldest and grandest part of the city, a testament to centuries of mining wealth. Gavriel pounded on the door. He was soaked to the skin from a sudden cloudburst, and a chill settled into his bones. He was still weak, though he would not let them see it.

His pounding was answered by Nestania herself. “How dare you come to my home?” she hissed.

“How dare you lie to me?” he countered. “I’ve been out of my mind with worry and she’s been here all along!”

Nestania’s eyes narrowed. “And what claim do you have on her, Lord Morningstar? Your kind has brought nothing but heartache to this family. I’m only protecting my granddaughter from further suffering.”

Her dart hit home. Yet he could not leave without seeing her.

“I have no intention of causing Cathrynne pain,” he said tightly.

“You already have,” Nestania snapped.

They stared at each other.

“Let me inside,” he said, trying hard to master his temper, “or I will take this matter to the Morag?—”

“Who’s at the door?”

Another witch appeared. She had long dark hair and looked too young to be Cathrynne’s mother.

“Go back inside, Lara,” Nestania said irritably. “Lord Morningstar was just leaving.”

Lara arched a brow. “That’s funny, he doesn’t look like he’s going anywhere to me.”

“This is not your concern, Lara?—”

“Maybe I should tell Cathrynne. Let her decide.”

Nestania looked furious, but Lara seemed weary of her meddling.

“She’s a grown woman. You have no right, grandmother.”

“She swore me to secrecy?—”

“Not from him.”

Nestania looked as though she would rather cut off her own hand, but she stepped back. “You can have ten minutes,” she said.

“I’ll take you to her room,” Lara offered.

He gave her a grateful look. “Thank you.”

The Lenormand home was spacious and adorned with treasures from across Sion—artwork, statues, vases—but the decor barely registered. They climbed a flight of stairs. Lara opened a door at the end of the hall.

Cathrynne lay on a narrow bed, a quilt pulled up to her chest. Her face was bruised, and she looked terribly thin. Their eyes met. She said his name, and then he was rushing forward to kneel at her bedside. The way her face lit up was like stepping into sunlight after years of darkness.

“Gavriel,” she exclaimed, “you came! I thought you’d gone back to Arioch.”

“What?” He frowned. “Of course not. I’ve been searching for you for days!”

He had a powerful urge to to take her in his arms and carry her home to Everfell. Nurse her back to health. And then tear whoever had done this limb from limb.

“Ten minutes,” Nestania reminded him. “She needs her rest.”

Cathrynne scowled. “I’m fine.”

“Let them be, grandmother,” Lara said firmly.

Nestania huffed. The door closed behind them.

Gavriel carefully took her hand. “Who did this, Cathrynne?”

So I can return payment to them tenfold.

She looked away.

“You can tell me,” he said gently. “Whoever it is.”

A struggle played across her face. “Promise me something first,” she said.

“Anything.”

“You won’t act unless I allow it. Swear, Morningstar! Upon your father’s name. I know your word is unbreakable.”

His wings tensed. “You have my solemn oath that I will do nothing without your permission. Was it Haniel? I will see her cast down into a pit so deep?—”

Her hand on his arm stilled him. “It wasn’t Haniel. But they know something dangerous about me. And if I accuse them, they will reveal it to the High Council.”

Her face was desolate. Gavriel thought of their visit to Gia Andrade, Casolaba’s mistress, and remembered how Cathrynne had stood, staring intently down the street, at least ten seconds before the coach came careening around the corner.

Her uncanny ability to predict that it was meant for him , and to shove him out of the way. The nosebleed afterwards.

The knowledge was sharp and bitter. “You are a seer,” he said.

A flash of terror crossed her face. Gavriel did not blame her. He could scarcely imagine a worse fate. She seemed to be in control of the gift, but he wondered how much longer that would last.

“I had my suspicions after the coach,” he admitted. “But Cathrynne, I would never, ever tell anyone. You don’t need an oath for that.”

Her breath was taut. “I had to use my ability to escape. There was no other way. They were going to kill me. I saw it.” Her eyes lost focus, and a blade twisted in his heart.

“Who?” he asked.

“Markus Viktorovich. Some of the other White Foxes in Arjevica.”

“Do the witches know?”

“No one knows. You’re the first person I’ve told.

” She met his eyes. “Markus will deny everything, of course. He’s the one who took me away twenty years ago.

Him and a witch named Berti Baako. He’ll say I’m lying to get revenge.

The only way to prove what he did to me is to give a sweven to the High Council.

If I agree, it would ruin the Viktorovich family . . .”

“And you, as well,” he said in disgust. “They would know you’re a seer and entomb you in the kloster.”

Cathrynne gave a humorless laugh. “I would rather see him get away with it than accept that life. Markus knows it. So he’ll keep his mouth shut if I do.”

The injustice of it sickened him. “I made you a promise and I’ll keep it,” he said. “But someday, we will find a way to bring them down, Cathrynne. And I swear before all the gods, I will not let them take you away again.”

Tell her the truth now. Tell her what you did. The role you played.

Yet he couldn’t bring himself to confess. Not just yet. Gavriel told himself that she had suffered enough, but the truth was that he couldn’t bear to see the trust in her eyes turn to hatred.

“What about you?” Cathrynne studied him. “How are you feeling?”

He set his guilt aside and told her everything that had transpired since he woke at Mount Meru. Cathrynne looked troubled.

“Does your father support Haniel in seizing control of the kaldurite?” she asked.

“Yes. They are claiming the witches poisoned me. An obvious pretext. I fear this could lead to civil war.”

Cathrynne stared out the window, her brow creased with worry. “We have to find Kal Machena. She’s the key to it all. If the White Foxes get her first, they’ll torture her until she leads them to the source, and then they’ll kill her.”

He exhaled slowly. “I fear Haniel would be no more gentle. But the girl could be anywhere.”

“No, one of the White Foxes said she was in Arjevica, but they couldn’t find her. That she’d vanished into thin air?—”

A knock came. A few seconds later, the door opened and Lara came in. “Your ten minutes are up,” she said dryly. “Grandmother has been watching the clock.”

Gavriel stiffened, ready to argue, but Cathrynne cut him off.

“Lara,” she said, “if I tell you what happened to me, will you do as I ask?”

Her sister gave a fierce nod. “Whatever it is, I’m in.”

“Good. Because we need your help.”