“I don’t know.”
“You’re upset, and rightly so.” Ranon took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He couldn’t force her to stay, but he was sure if he could get her to Eyota, he would buy enough time to convince her that there were people who didn’t care if a face was pretty or not when the woman behind that face was special. “Come with me. Give yourself time to rest and breathe before making a decision. Please.”
She called in a handkerchief and sniffled into it. “Should I leave a note? It’s proper to inform the Steward and Master of the Guard.”
She sounded so lost, so wounded.
He knew it was proper. As the Master’s second-in-command, he should inform Talon at the very least. But if he involved anyone else in the court right now, most likely Cassidy would be talked into staying here—and the next time she decided to run, she wouldn’t delay long enough to pack her things or leave a note. They’d find out about it when Yaslana landed on their doorstep demanding answers.
“No,” he said. “No one needs to know where you are. Not yet.”
He hadn’t convinced her, and he didn’t know what else to say. But he could think of one thing to do.
Using Craft, he closed the lids on her trunks—and vanished them.
Cassidy stared at the empty floor. “You took my trunks.”
“I did.” Getting his mouth to smile felt like he was trying to bend stone, but he did it. Or close enough. “I’ll give them back when we reach the boardinghouse.”
She studied him.
“What?” he asked.
She sniffled into the handkerchief once more, then vanished it. “For a moment there, you sounded like Lucivar.”
He decided to take that as a compliment. “Let’s get out of here.”
“You’ll talk to Gray?”
“I will. I hope you won’t be upset if he decides to join you.”
“Do you think he would?”
Oh, Cassie. Are you hurting so much you can’t remember that he loves you?“I do, darling. I really do.”
Ranon and Cassidy slipped out of the house, wrapped in an Opal sight shield to lessen the number of people who might be able to detect her. He trusted her to go down to the gate while he went to the stables to get a horse—praying to the Darkness that she didn’t walk onto the landing web, catch the Rose Wind, and run to the Keep. Riding double to the Coaching station, they rented a small Coach, giving the driver who should have gone with them a generous tip to watch the horse—and not ask questions.
Riding the Opal Winds, switching from radial to tether lines whenever needed, they finally reached the landing web on the northern end of his home village.
And through the whole of the journey, Cassidy never said one word.
*Grandfather,* Ranon called as soon as he dropped the Coach from the Opal Web and skimmed over the landing web. He could handle a small Coach when riding the Winds, but using Craft and power to hold one steady as it skimmed above the road was an untested skill. *Grandfather!*
*Ranon?* Yairen sounded muddled. Then the voice on the psychic thread sharpened. *Ranon?*
*I need help.* He could picture his grandfather pushing himself up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. After all, anyone in their right mind who wasn’t demon-dead would be asleep at this hour. *I brought Cassidy. There’s been some trouble.*
*Is she wounded?*
The genuine concern in Yairen’s voice told Ranon that he’d made the right choice. *Not her body, but her heart is wounded.*
*Gray?*
*No. It’s . . . complicated. She was going to leave us, Grandfather. I convinced her to come here instead.*
*Where?*
*The boardinghouse.*
*Go slowly, grandson. Give this old man a little time to prepare. I will meet you at the house. Janos will come too.*
*Thank you.*
Yairen broke the link. Ranon slowed the Coach to the pace of an ambling walk—and hoped Cassidy wouldn’t ask him why the Coach was suddenly wobbling so much.
By the time he set the Coach down on the street in front of the boardinghouse, there were lamps shining in the windows of several rooms, and doors and windows were open to let in cool night air.
“We’re here,” he said, holding out a hand.
She slipped her hand in his, still saying nothing as she followed him out of the Coach and into the house.
His grandfather waited for them in the front parlor.
“The Rose has come back to us,” Yairen said, smiling. “It grieves me to know you sorrow, but you are among friends here.” He gestured to two chairs and a table. “Come and sit with an old man.”
She sat, and she seemed so empty Ranon wondered if he’d brought more than a husk to Eyota.
Yairen waved a hand over the table. Two mugs and a carafe appeared. Using Craft, Yairen poured dark, steaming liquid from the carafe into the mugs.
“This is a special drink,” Yairen said. “I usually make it when strong men need to speak of things that are troubling their hearts, but I think tonight your heart could use this.”
“I don’t think I can speak,” Cassidy whispered.
Yairen smiled gently. “Even silence has a voice. Drink. Perhaps we will talk. Perhaps not. Perhaps I alone will talk and tell you more about the music of my people, even give you the first lesson in how to play a drum.”
Cassidy took a sip of his grandfather’s special brew of spiced whiskey and coffee. She took another sip. “I would like to hear more about your music.”
“Good.” Yairen looked at Ranon. “Are you still here, troublemaker?”
“Troublemaker?” Cassidy asked.
“Bah.” Yairen waved one hand gently in front of his face. “The stories I could tell you about that one. Go on, now,” he added, pointing at Ranon. “Leave us to talk without your bothersome presence.”
Cassidy snorted and took another, larger sip of the brew.
*Tend to your business, grandson,* Yairen said. *The Rose will be safe here among us.*
*Don’t tell her too many stories.* He looked at Cassidy. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“You promised to give me back my trunks when we got here,” Cassidy said.
“Oh. I did, didn’t I?” This time his smile wasn’t forced. He called in her trunks and set them at the other end of the parlor.
“See?” Yairen said, laughing. “Troublemaker.”
An hour before sunrise, most of the First Circle gathered in a meeting room.
Ranon had figured he would face anger. He’d figured he would face temper.