Page 56 of Lady of Starfire (Lady of Darkness #5)

“Take us to Mary Ellen,” Callan said, an order that had all the guards straightening.

There was a tense moment of silence before the first man swaggered forward, pulling something from his cloak. “Sure thing.” Callan could hear the smirk in his tone. “But if you’re lying, I’ll be cutting out your tongue.”

“Callan,” Azrael said in a tone so quiet he almost didn’t hear him.

“You can Travel us out if needed, right?” Callan murmured out of the corner of his mouth as the men came forward.

“Not if they separate us,” Azrael replied.

It was a risk, but what wasn’t these days? It would be worth it if they truly knew where Mary Ellen was. It would be worth it if it got them any information on how to aid his people.

“Put ’em on,” the guard said, tossing something to Callan while another did the same to Azrael. Hoods to go over their heads, he realized a moment later. “And hands behind your backs.”

Callan did as ordered, rope being wound tightly around his wrists. That would be fine. Azrael’s earth magic could get them out of any bindings.

Once they were bound and unable to see, they were led back down the streets until they were shoved into a carriage.

“Wait a minute,” Callan barked around a wince as his face crashed into something hard, but there was the slamming of a door, followed moments later by the creaking of wheels that had him lurching forward.

The hood was yanked from his head. Callan couldn’t see Azrael in the pitch dark.

“We are in a godsdamn prisoner wagon,” the Earth Prince growled in annoyance.

“I guess we will see where it goes,” Callan murmured, shifting so he could sit against the side.

“A prisoner wagon generally leads to dungeons or death.”

“This is the first decent lead we’ve had since we got here,” Callan argued. “You saw those streets, Azrael. No one is there. Either Mikale and Alaric have all of them, or …” He trailed off, jarred with every bump and rut in the road.

“Or what?” Azrael gritted out.

“You said it yourself. They’re good at staying hidden. This might be our only chance at finding them.”

“You honestly believe these men know where this Mary Ellen is?”

No. He wasn’t sure what he believed. But these men seemed to know who Tava was, and he couldn’t ignore that.

He had no way of calculating how much time had passed. It had to be at least an hour, likely closer to two, before the wagon began slowing. They quickly replaced their hoods, Azrael using his magic to get their bindings back in place, before they were hauled from the back of the wagon.

A short walk later, they were being forced to their knees onto damp earth that seeped through the material of his pants. Their hands were left bound, but their hoods were removed. Cool air kissed Callan’s face as he blinked against the sudden light.

There were several fires throughout the space, and tents.

Rows and rows of tents. This was a camp.

He turned his head from side to side, taking it all in.

The woods north of Baylorin. That had to be where they were.

It was a good two-hour ride to get this deep into the trees.

People moved among the fires and tents, calling out to one another and …

laughing. Despite clearly being displaced, they were joking with each other.

Two of the guards stayed beside him and Azrael, three others peeling off and greeting some other men by a fire. The final man had disappeared.

“Is Mary Ellen here?” Callan asked, looking up at the guard nearest him.

“Shut up,” he snarled. It was the first man. The one who had spoken the most. And why did he sound so familiar?

Azrael shifted, inching closer. The guards glanced at him but didn’t say anything.

“Finally,” the guard next to Callan muttered some time later, stalking forward.

And then Callan felt the world fall out from beneath him as he beheld who he’d been waiting for.

There were two women moving through the trees and heading in their direction.

One had red-brown hair braided over her shoulder.

She moved with lethal grace and had more weapons strapped to her than Callan could count.

She was wearing a suit just like the one Scarlett often wore.

Holding a book open in her hand, she was showing something to the other woman.

Who had a golden owl perched on her shoulder.

That was Tava. In a godsdamn witchsuit that fit her like a glove. Her hair was also braided over her shoulder, and she was listening intently to whatever the other was saying. And the other?

That was Juliette.

Angel and Wraith.

Tava looked up, smiling softly at the guard—was he a guard?—as he approached. She hadn’t noticed him and Azrael kneeling on the forest floor yet, but he knew the moment the man mentioned them. Her eyes went wide, snapping to them, her hand covering her mouth in as much shock as Callan was in.

“Oh my gods,” she rasped, shoving past the man and rushing forward. Paja gave a disgruntled hoot at her sudden movement, swooping up to a low-hanging branch. “I am so sorry, Callan,” Tava said. He could feel her fingers trembling as she tried to work the knots in the ropes.

“Azrael,” Callan muttered, and a moment later, the bindings fell away. He was twisting around to grab her in the next breath. Her arms wound around his neck, and he breathed her in.

“Are you all right?” he murmured into her hair.

She gave a choked laugh as she leaned back. “Am I all right? You were transported here in a prison wagon. Are you all right?”

“I am fine, Little Fox,” he said, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “Confused as hell, but fine.”

“My Lady,” he heard Azrael say, and Callan looked over his shoulder to find him bowing to Juliette. It took him a minute to remember that she was the Oracle.

Juliette gave him a crooked smirk, and she winked as she said, “Plant Prince.” Azrael muttered something under his breath too low for Callan to hear, but Juliette gave a small laugh as she added, “I am the least vexing of the three of us, I assure you.”

“In that case, I think some explanations are in order,” Azrael replied.

“Prince?”

They all turned to find the man who had approached the women, standing with his arms crossed.

“Callan,” Tava said. “I do not know if you ever met Ezra, but—”

“You are Sloan’s son,” Callan said, staring at the young man.

That was why he’d recognized the man’s voice.

He took after his mother in a lot of ways, but he had Sloan’s pale blue eyes and blond hair.

Sloan had always kept his hair cropped short.

Ezra’s was a little longer, curling slightly around his ears.

Callan had known Sloan had had a family, but he’d only met his wife a handful of times.

And his kids? Ezra was a few years younger than he was.

Closer to Tava’s age than his and Drake’s.

He knew Ezra had three younger sisters as well.

He had been the only boy, older than his sisters by several years.

Sloan’s wife had become pregnant when she and Sloan were both so young, but Callan knew Sloan had regretted nothing about his life with her.

Ezra surveyed him, hand still on his sword.

A sword that had once belonged to his father.

And then Callan bowed to him.

When he straightened, Ezra was staring at him wide-eyed, his hand fallen slack by his side.

“Your father gave his life protecting my family. Protecting me and Eva. I can never repay the debt that is owed to you and your family,” Callan said thickly, emotion welling in his throat. “He was a man I was honored to call a friend.”

Ezra glanced at Tava, and Callan could see her smiling softly out of the corner of his eye. Then the man cleared his throat. “Tava says you are on our side. That you did not flee, but that you have been gone all this time finding help.”

“I have,” Callan replied.

“Let’s take this to another place,” Juliette suggested, gesturing back the way they had come.

Tava’s fingers intertwined with his, and she led them through the array of tents until they came to a larger one in the center.

Ezra pulled the flap aside, Juliette and Azrael entering first, followed by Callan and Tava.

The inside was spacious, candles and lanterns spread out and casting everything in a warm glow.

There was a bed to one side, along with various trunks and a small washbasin.

In the center was a long table with maps atop it.

Drake and a few other men Callan did not recognize were standing around them.

They looked up at the interruption, and Drake straightened when he saw Callan.

“What are you doing here?” Drake asked, rushing towards them.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Callan replied.

“There are many stories to share,” Juliette said, plopping unceremoniously onto a stool near the table. An elbow rested on the surface, and she propped her hand on her chin. “You will definitely want to sit, your Majesty.”

Several of the men excused themselves so that it was just Juliette, Azrael, the Tyndells, Callan, and Ezra in the tent. Callan turned to Drake and Tava and said, “Start from the beginning. How are you here? Does Balam—”

“Balam does not know we are here,” Tava interrupted. Her hands were in her lap, back straight and poised. Still a Lady, even in a godsdamn witchsuit.

“Where is here? Who put this together?”

“It is a safe site of sorts,” Juliette chimed in, chin still propped, watching them all curiously. “It has been in the works for quite some time. Set up by those who opposed your father’s rule.”

“My father’s …” His eyes widened in realization. “This was being planned before Alaric and Mikale took over?”

Juliette nodded, straightening some. Her eyes flicked to Drake.