Her jaw unclenched. Her muscles relaxed. Maybe it was the sound of the waves breaking, the homeyness of the bread, or the fresh air, but tension dripped out of her as she appreciated the sun descending over the western sea. She still itched to leave her room to find her brothers and could picture them pacing their rooms, feeling the same about her. Perhaps if they had to be apart for a few short hours, a sunset over the ocean was an acceptable conciliation.

This is where she’d sit until Moirai’s attendant came to get her.

The enchanting, silvery glimmer of distant waves reminded her of sparks of magic. She frowned at the bewitching sparkles as she remembered the tasks before her. Her mind wandered to the priestess’s cryptic instructions as she mulled over the woman’s inscrutable message on the orb.

It is held where all magic’s secrets are held.

She puzzled over what it could mean but remained baffled. For now, there was nothing she could do about mysterious orbs or holy riddles. Instead, she’d eat her bread and relax into the knowledge that they’d made it safely to Aubade. She’d melt into the sunset, becoming one with the distant, blue line on the horizon. The fingers of relief had just begun to massage her stress when her eyes fixed on a particularly large seabird against the dusk of the disappearing sun. It vanished entirely, leaving the last indigos of its dying light in the sky before the stars began to sparkle into existence.

She saw it again and knew it was not a bird.

“Goddess damn it,” she cursed to herself, all semblance of peace leaving her. “Can I not get one moment of peace?”

Anger raked her as she knew her only chance at relaxation had been snatched from her. She ran back into her chamber, blowing out the room’s candles to further obscure herself and the unwanted visitor in the shadows. She then slid a chair against the door, lodging the handle in place. She’d barely crammed the back of the chair against the handle before she heard a flutter of air and the gentle footsteps of a man. Somewhere on her balcony, Gadriel had landed as quietly as he could. His great wings folded behind him as he muted his footsteps.

“What are you doing here?” she hissed. Her room was dark, but not dark enough. If someone really wanted to spy, they’d be able to see the Raascot fae and his angelic, feathered wings—that, or the batlike wings of a demon.

He didn’t bother greeting her. He did a quick, careful pan of the room, presumably assessing it for weak points. Gadriel took several steps into the room before using the rushed, militant voice of a general.

“Silvanus hasn’t reported in since our night at the river. We thought we’d meet up with him after the temple, but I have a bad feeling.”

Amaris responded in a harried whisper as she said, “Your presence is going to give us away! What were you thinking?”