Some books shook and rattled atop their shelves, throwing off small plumes of dust. She stalked toward them.
“Since the Bazrian Seven know less than I do about the castle”—she glanced over her shoulder at him before running the tip of her finger along a book’s spine—“which seems so unlikely I can scarcely believe it, since you’ve been here for over half a year.” She hummed and looked at him again. “Are you guys holding out on me? Because I really do need to know?—”
“No, we’re not. At least, I’m not. When my father first sent us here, I figured we’d only be here for a few days, a few weeks at most.”
“Guess that didn’t pan out.”
Baz pursed his lips. “No, it didn’t.”
“And you didn’t find out more about the castle that you believe to be sooooo dangerous since then because…?”
Baz stiffened. “Because Mauldrene isn’t exactly forthcoming with her secrets. She makes everything as difficult as possible for us, interferes at every turn. Shit, she doesn’t even let us get proper sleep, and Lev is a scorching pest when he’s sleep deprived. The last six-plus months have been really fun.”
She grunted what sounded like disbelief.
“I mean it,” Baz said. “I know that the abyss, island, and castle discourage visitors. No one can even reach the island unless it’s by flying in.” He harrumphed. “Well, unless Mauldrene decides to extend the welcome mat, which she’s done only once before that I know of since we’ve been stuck here.”
“When? For whom?”
“Around when we met.” His smile was heavy. “Right before you tried to kill me.”
“That again? When will you let it go?”
“Never.”
“You tried to kill me too.”
“In self-defense.”
She shrugged. “I figured that a soldier of your caliber would know better than to hold grudges.”
Baz snorted. “Hold grudges? I think a murder attempt goes a bit beyond grudges.”
“Maybe. But I had my reasons.” She jerked her head up so her glare could sear into him. “And Teo is a good fucking reason. The very best one.”
Baz didn’t respond. His temptress was either too good at luring him or a touch crazy. Any rational person would hold an assassination attempt against their would-be assassin.
She glowered at him some more, as if he were to blame for any of this … whatever the fuck this was.
“Who was it?”
“Who was what?”
“For whom did Mauldrene extend the magical fucking welcome mat?”
“It was a bridge that crossed the abyss, and it was for some Galmeenians.”
Her attention that had been skipping along book spines again zeroed in on him. “What Galmeenians?”
“A young girl and boy…”
“And?”
“And some feeders and … whores.” Why was he loath to admit to the whores? It wasn’t like he was doing anything wrong. By ensuring neither he nor his friends got tangled up in messy, risky romance with anyone, he was protecting all of them.
Velle’s jaw tightened for a second, before the tension was gone, if it had ever been there at all.
“Whores, huh?”