Chynne’s rolling eyes shone, even in the dark, turning his gaze to the collapsed portion of the building. “Do you think they haven’t noticed?”
“Good point.” Piers felt around on the wall, finally locating and flipping a switch. “Yaaaahh!” He jumped back from the most enormous damned spider he’d ever seen, sitting right by his hand.
The spider dropped to the floor, quickly morphing into a cat, laughing its feline head off. “Sorry, you humans are too easy.”
What the fuck? Piers pressed a hand to his thundering heart. “Don’t do that again. Ever.” At least the spider’s leg appeared to have grown back.
“No promises.” Chynne showed far too many pointy teeth in his grin.
“Earlier, when those things chased me, all the lights went out. Why do they work now?”
“They only extinguish lights while they hunt.”
“That’s reassuring.” Reassuring? What the hell was Piers thinking. “Why can’t we use magic to get Jess back?”
“Don’t you think it’s a little late to ask?”
Well, yeah. “Can we?”
“No. First, it’ll be nearly impossible to work a spell without a direct line of sight on your target with your lack of training. Treaties my drunken ancestor signed means I can’t intervene magically,” Chynne grumbled. “Secondly, what if we hurt your friend?”
Later. Piers would ask later what happened if he violated a treaty. If he got his hands on the hellhounds who’d taken Jess, he’d… he’d…well, break quite a few treaties, for starters.
“Back here,” George called.
Chynne padded toward George while Piers passed him at a trot, realizing too late the pat, pat, pat of his tennis shoes on the concrete floor might as well have been a gong. No stealthy approach here.
Not that George left the possibility open, with his tearing off the front of the building.
The ogre stopped Piers with a hand to his arm. “Listen.”
Soft murmuring came from behind a door. Sounded similar to the guys who’d chased Piers, with a bit of a nasal tone. Must be the pig noses.
“Allow me.” Chynne waved a paw in the air. The door disappeared.
Three big brutes stood in the middle of the room, clustered around a spindly wooden chair.
Duct-taped to the chair sat a wide-eyed Jess.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Magical Realm
Wycke and Saris followed Chynne’s portal into Saris’s old childhood schoolroom. With no royal heirs in residence, they stood little chance of discovery in the children's wing in the castle.
Weak gray light shone through the single high window, though “shone through” overstated the reality. Minimal illumination filtered through the gloom to lighten the dust motes performing endless pirouettes in the stuffy air.
The stained-glass image of what might once have been a child playing with a dog lay in multicolored shards on the floor, smashed from the outside.
Wycke's breath hung in the air before his face. As much as he complained about Dhugach’s warmth, he’d gladly trade the icy air for something balmy. Brrr… He pulled his human-realm leather jacket tighter, surreptitiously watching Saris out of the corner of his eye while she adjusted her cloak to better shield from the cold.
A bittersweet smile crossed her face. “I spent so much time in this room, learning my letters.” Her voice echoed against the stone walls. She lifted a tome from the tutor's desk and blew off a layer of dust. “The Maiden and the Mirror. I remember this one.” She raised her voice, mimicking someone else, possibly the tutor. “The moral of the story? Don't be vain.” Setting the book down, she straightened her spine and gave one more look around the abandoned classroom. With a wistful sigh, she joined Wycke by the door.
He didn't draw attention to the shimmer in her eyes, reaching out and pulling her close. Saris rested her head against his chest for a moment. “My life was so perfect, with my father a king, and a mother who doted on me. Life can be so cruel.” She wiped her damp cheek with the back of her hand. “Let's not waste time, hmm? Who knows when we might be found?” Her words didn’t sound nearly as casual as probably intended.
A fist closed on Wycke’s heart. That doting mother gave her life to bring Wycke into the world. Though Saris never blamed him, she didn’t need to. He’d heaped enough guilt onto himself over his lifetime.
Before finding out the truth: Piers’ mother had murdered Wycke’s. Sometime, in the near future, he’d have to process the implications.