Except Lorcan was still lying on the floor, panting.
Lorcan’s wings snapped open, sending the last of the smoke swirling. “Does your new mistress know you have such a sweet trinket?” he said, still seething. “Or have you played her just as false?” He looked up at Havilar, and there was no mistaking the surprise in his expression.
Havilar narrowed her eyes at him. “Wrong sister.”
He eyed her a moment, a change as clear as when he wore a human skin coming over him as he turned calm, charming. “On the contrary. You’re just who I’m looking for.”
“Liar,” Havilar said, climbing to her feet. “She’s gone. Like you ought to be.”
Lorcan spread his hands wide, still looking as if he’d prefer to tear her limb from limb, but at least looking like he was thinking better of that. “We’re on the same side here. If you think I’m happy. . well, whatever you’ve endured, I did it in the comfort of that shitting necklace. So tell me where your sister is, I’ll find my sister, and I’ll get to making both of us a little happier.”
Havilar shifted and glowered at the broken bottle on the floor. At least he knew Farideh was wrong. “I have nothing to say to you,” she said, sliding the knife into her belt. She missed and it clattered to the floor.
Lorcan peered at her. “I see wine is no cure.”
“Oh thrik-ukris and karshoj arlorcanominak,” Havilar spat, the vilest curse she could think of. She scrambled for more. “You shitting bastard of a tiamashkosj. .”
“Calm down,” Lorcan said edging toward her. “No one’s saying you don’t deserve that wine. Hells, I would gladly take what you’re not using. But to start with, Sairché won’t be through-”
I don’t have to listen to this, Havilar thought. “I’m going to find Mehen,” she announced and turned on her heel. “I’ll bet he has a lot to say to you.”
The alarm that blared through the safe house’s hallways stopped her in her tracks. Suddenly there were people-so many people-pouring out of rooms, and the tide of bodies dragged her through the hall and down into the taproom. She couldn’t see if Lorcan had followed her-no one screamed about devils, but he might have changed. Every other soul in the Harper safe house was there, and the doors were barred. Several wizards with wands out seemed to be separating the ordinary patrons-now dazed and glassyeyed-from the Harpers, who were clearly being counted up.
Mehen found her then, his scaly arms catching her in a close embrace. “Here you are,” he said. He waved away the wizard who approached with raised brows. “Where’s your sister?”
Havilar scowled. “Ask Lorcan.”
“Lorcan?” Mehen looked up and over her shoulder, scanning the crowd. “What are you talking about?” He fixed a yellow eye on his daughter. “Where is your sister?”
Havilar turned and searched the milling crowd of people, but there was no sign of the disguised cambion. She made a face. “He’s here. I didn’t imagine it.”
“Where is your sister?” Mehen said again.
“Gone,” Havilar said. “She ran away. Didn’t even say where she was going.” She shoved the crumpled note at Mehen. “There.”
Mehen took it from her gingerly, as if he were afraid of the note-which was silly, Havilar thought, watching him. Mehen wasn’t afraid. But then he tapped the roof of his mouth nervously, and she wondered. He read Farideh’s message, and when he looked up again at Havilar, there was so much fear and horror in his face that she wished he would just be nervous again.
“Did she go with Lorcan?”
Havilar looked away, out into the crowd. “No. He was looking for her too. Everyone’s looking for her.”
“Now is not the time, Havi. Where did she go?”
The crowd around them parted for Tam. “You two,” he said, to Havilar and Mehen, “come with me.”
Tam’s study was at the top of too many stairs, but Havilar kept her complaints to herself. The room already held plenty of people-the handsome half-elf fellow she’d chased off when he’d watched her too long, the lady Harper who’d been with Dahl when they arrived, Brin. Havilar found herself a corner and tried to disappear into it.
But Tam wouldn’t let her. “Your sister vanished from my office with Dahl.”
Worse and worse-she’d run off, run off to save the day, without Havilar and with some good-looking fellow. Because Farideh got everything. She clung to that angry, spiteful thought because under it, powerful as a tide, came the panic. They couldn’t stop Farideh if she’d vanished. They couldn’t make her come back if she’d disappeared.
“And?” she said, surlier than she meant to.
“And I want to know who took them,” he said. “Where they went. Whether I need to clear this safe house. This sort of thing doesn’t happen.”
“This sort of thing happens to her all the time,” Havilar said, feeling bold. “I don’t know why you’re so worried.”
“Havi!” Mehen gave her an awful, shocked look. Even the strange Harpers looked appalled, and Havilar wished she could vanish too. She didn’t dare look at Brin. The panic squeezed her chest.
“I don’t know where she went,” Havilar said. “You’ll just have to find her.”
“They left no sign?” the half-elf man asked. “No trace of where they might have gone?”
“Nothing,” Tam said. “They were there, I turned my back, they were gone. No trace of a spell, no marks of a portal.” He waved his hand. “This room is warded against that sort of entry-so is it some new spell we weren’t ready for?”
“Have you tried locating him?” the woman asked.
“Briefly,” Tam said. “The spell didn’t find him, but such things. .” He spread his hands. “We’ll try again. In the meantime-”
“You have to find her,” Havilar said again.
She was in the library,” Brin offered. “Looking for something.”
“I’ll search it,” the Tuigan woman offered.
Tam turned to Havilar. “Why has she been acting so strange?”
“How should she act?” Mehen said hotly. “World turned her upside down.”
Havilar thought of the note, still crushed in Mehen’s hand. A devil. That Sairché. That’s who took her, she thought. Maybe who took Dahl. But Tam wouldn’t want to hear that-what would he say? That it was Farideh being wicked. She wasn’t wicked-she was just stupid.
Tam was still staring at Havilar. “What was she looking for in the library?”
“I don’t know,” Havilar said.
“She’s not in trouble. Not yet. But you have to help me here, Havi. Where might she have gone?”
“I don’t know,” Havilar insisted. “She wouldn’t have left. She knew better. Someone else must have. . Someone could have taken her.”
Mehen sighed. “She left a note,” he admitted. He handed it over to Tam. “Doesn’t say where she’s going.”
Tam cursed. “Who’s Sairché?” Havilar covered her face. This was everything she didn’t want. “Havi,” Tam said sharply. “Who?”
“The devil,” Havilar said, her voice squeezing tight. “The one who-”
Havilar’s reply was overtaken by a voice coming out of the air-Dahl’s voice, whispered and quick.
“Netherese stronghold. Soldiers, shadar-kai, heavily armed. Somewhere cold. High up.” Dahl’s voice hung for so long Havilar was sure he’d finished, but then he added, “Farideh came intentionally. I’ve lost her, both wounded. Have one reserve sending, sword and dagger.”
Tam hissed as if he were trying not to curse. He scowled at the desk a moment more before saying to the air. “Lie low. Get me better idea of your location, quickly so rescuers can find a portal. Find Farideh. Determine where she stands.” He blew out a breath and shook his head again, as if there were no end to the curses he wanted to say. “Stay safe,” he finished instead.
“ ‘Rescuers’?” Brin said. “Is that necessary?”