I meet his eyes and swallow. Is that what I feel when he touches me? Potential? Because it feels like . . . lust. But I’d rather spend another night in Mordeus’s oubliette than admit that, so I nod.
Finn drops his hand, and the bubble of night falls away, replaced by the golden glow of the setting sun.
His attention has returned to the flock of ravens. “We should go back in.”
“Why?” I ask. I don’t want to go back in. Not yet.
“You see those birds?”
As if in reaction, one caws loudly, the sharp sound renting the peaceful evening breeze.
“Yes?”
“When ravens swarm like that, it’s a sign the Sluagh are close.”
“Slew-what?”
“Sluagh. They’re spirits of the dead who’ve never been able to pass. For whatever reason, they’re caught between.”
“Are they ghosts?”
He grimaces, still studying the ravens. I wonder what he sees as he watches them. It’s as if he’s looking for answers in their movements. “Sort of, I suppose. They’re the cursed dead, fae killed too soon and with too much power left. They’re stuck wandering the realm until their deaths are avenged. Some will lure innocents to their death just to appease their angry souls.”
A shiver of dread races down my spine, and I swallow. “Do they always linger in cemeteries?”
“They linger near wherever they were murdered, and unless you’d like to get a detailed lesson on these, I suggest we move quickly.”
Chapter Fifteen
THE LATE EVENING BREEZE BLOWS in my window, a cool relief after a hot day.
I feigned a headache and skipped dinner with the other girls tonight. I’m mentally exhausted after my little training session with Finn, but I could have managed a couple more hours before retiring. In truth, I don’t want to see all the other girls fawning all over Sebastian. I don’t want to see him flirting with them. I don’t want to see him smiling at them the way he used to smile at me, and I don’t want to think about him having a future with one of them.
I’m staring into the star-studded night sky when someone raps on my door. Three taps. Pause. Two taps.
I smile at Sebastian’s signature knock. “Come in.”
The door cracks, and he sticks his head in. “Are you alone?”
I nod. “My maids have left for the night.”
He pushes the rest of the way into the room. He’s in russet leather pants and a white tunic that’s open at his neck, showing off the golden skin of his chest. His white hair hangs loose around his shoulders, and his smile makes my chest squeeze with longing for things I can’t have and shouldn’t want.
He pulls something from behind his back with a flourish, and my eyes widen as I take in the silver gilded mirror. It’s a match to the one I have waiting under my mattress. “Is that . . . is that really it?”
“The Mirror of Discovery.” Holding it in both hands, he extends it toward me.
As I wrap my fingers around the cool metal, my heart races. I’m one step closer, Jas.
“You look . . . awed,” he says.
I pull my eyes off my own reflection and look at him. “Who wouldn’t be?”
He smiles shyly. “You surprise me. You’ve always spoken so poorly about my world. I never expected you to be interested in our holy relics.”
Right. I swallow. “I guess the longer I’ve been here, the more interested I am in understanding your realm?” I can’t manage to keep it from sounding like a question.
He’s silent for a long beat. I give him an awkward smile and start to turn away when he says, “Is it so awful?”
“What?”
He extends his hands to the sides, indicating the room, the palace, maybe his whole court. “Being here. I know you never wanted to come, but are you . . . unhappy?”
“I won’t be happy until Jasalyn is safe.”
He ducks his head and rubs the back of his neck. “Of course not. I understand that.”
I am the worst. “I’m sorry, Sebastian. I didn’t mean . . .”
His expression turns tortured as he asks, “Didn’t you?” I open my mouth to object, and he holds up a hand. “Do you want to try it?” He nods to the mirror. I hadn’t realized I’d clutched against my chest.
Swallowing, I extend the mirror and study my reflection. I’d asked my maids to leave my hair down tonight, and my curls are a wild mess around my face, not the tamed, perfect curls they form them into when dressing me for the day. But my face . . . my face has changed since I arrived in this realm nine days ago. It’s benefited from plentiful nutrition and regular sleep. The dark circles under my eyes have faded, and my cheeks are no longer so hollow. I’ve thrived here, but what about Jas? Until this moment, I didn’t realize I was scared to know the answer to that question. “How does it work?”