Savannah and the Tongue faced each other near a soot-blackened fireplace. Judging from their postures, the pair were clearly in the middle of an argument. Light from the flames moved over Savannah’s cheek. I’m going to see her, she told her teacher.
No. It’s too dangerous, he’d said. Savannah took a pointed step toward the door. The Tongue seized her arm in a grip that looked painful, but she wrenched free and hurried out, ignoring him when he called her name.
This is why The Tongue wasn’t in the throne room, I thought. He’d been trying to stop his apprentice from coming here. The faerie’s caution wasn’t entirely unreasonable—last time he and I saw each other, I might’ve threatened to decapitate him.
“That was the plan, but the Tongue offered me an apprenticeship position,” Savannah replied after a pause of her own. Her face was pale and strained. “Considering the fae burn their dead, this is the safest place for me to be. Mercy agreed.”
“Is that why you left Denver? Because of the zombies?” I asked. But we both knew what I was really wondering. Is that why you left Matthew?
I hadn’t moved or let go of the door, and Savannah looked small and exposed standing there in the dim passageway. My question seemed to spark something inside her, though. The necromancer lifted her chin and met my gaze. Her voice was more steady as she answered, “No. I left because of the Witch Killer.”
Frowning, I wracked my mind for any reference or memory of that name. But if my mother had ever mentioned it in her lectures, or if I’d read of it, I couldn’t remember. Weariness set upon me like a beast with claws and teeth. Suddenly I wanted nothing more than to turn away and fall face-first onto that bed.
Out loud I said, “Explain.”
Savannah swallowed again. “Someone is killing witches. It started happening a few months ago. A sister sent me a warning. It was just a few days after… after I came to your house.”
I snorted. “Oh, is that what you tell yourself? That you just came to Granby for a visit? You sold us out, Savannah. A good man died because of you. A really good man.”
The hypocrisy of my fury wasn’t lost on me. I’d killed people, as well, and it was possible some of them hadn’t been monsters. It was easier to assume they were, in order to justify their terrible deaths. Their terrible murders, I thought with a wince. I’d never had a chance to go back and attend to the bodies. Did anyone find them? Collith had found out, somehow, and knowing him, he’d probably taken care of everything.
The thought didn’t bring me peace. What if there were people in the world wondering what had happened to a person who’d been at that black market? Even slavers had families, not to mention the sellers who might’ve been hawking items far more innocent. There could be sons and daughters out there, brothers or sisters, laying awake every night as unanswered questions harrowed them. The same questions I had been haunted by for most of my life.
Never again. Never again could I lose control like that.
Savannah’s voice penetrated the fog of guilt around me. Blinking, I clung onto her words as if they were a way out of it. “…performed a Reading for my future,” she was saying, her stance still wary, “and I saw that dark force come for me. It killed Matthew, too.”
When Savannah said her son’s name, her voice cracked. She looked down at her feet for a moment, visibly gathering her composure. I waited silently, my face hard and pitiless—part of that was to conceal the storm in my heart, but also because it would take more than one conversation to make me trust Savannah Simonson. After a few seconds, the necromancer lifted her head again. Her eyes were dark and tormented, shining with unshed tears.
“But Readings always have a cost,” she finished, her voice getting firmer. “It showed me other things, too. The deaths of people I care about. I experienced each one like it was my own, and by the end of it, I was practically insane. I held it together long enough to pack Matthew’s things and bring him to you, but after that day, I couldn’t tell you where I went. What I did. Eventually, I found a Door, and it brought me to you.”
Ah, I thought. So that was why she’d barged into the Unseelie Court all those weeks ago. I remembered the wild hair, the mindless shouting. But here she stood now, clean and collected, for the most part. The effects of the Reading must’ve faded with time, especially once she’d landed in Zara’s care.
Savannah waited for my response. Exhaustion had come over me like a caffeine crash, though, and suddenly I didn’t care about where she’d been. The bed behind me crooned like a sirensong. “Why did you really come here, Savannah?” I asked, trying not to slump against the door.
Her throat worked, and then she said, “I want to see Matthew.”
Unsurprised, I gave her a small, humorless smile. “That’s not my decision to make.”
“I know. I was hoping you…” Savannah stopped to take a breath, then continued, “I’d hoped you would mention it to Damon for me. I would call him myself, but there’s no signal down here, and I don’t… I don’t go to the surface.”
I ignored a petty urge to remind Savannah that she’d have to go to the surface if she wanted to see her son. It would only be a childish attempt to hide my own terror, which struck like a lightning bolt at the thought of losing Matthew. He’d become such a light in our lives, and being a father had brought Damon back to life. It felt impossible to imagine the loft without Matthew’s laughter echoing through it. But… this still wasn’t my decision to make. Even if I did want to tell Savannah where she could shove her request.
“I’ll pass on the message,” was all I said.
Savannah gave me a look of such gratitude that I tensed, worried she’d try to hug me. “Thank you, Fortuna,” the necromancer replied.
When I heard the sincerity in her voice, I caught myself softening toward her. Forgiving her. It was easy enough to reverse that, though, and turn my heart back into stone—all I had to do was close my eyes to hear the crack of Fred’s ribs as he’d been torn apart, along with Emma’s agonized, horror-filled screams. There was no forgiving a betrayal like Savannah’s.
And if redemption was out of the question for her, I didn’t deserve to be forgiven for what I’d done, either.
I stepped back and closed the door in Savannah’s face.
As a latch fell into place, I waited to hear the sound of departing footsteps. There were none, and the air was so still that I would’ve known if Savannah had moved away. She was probably wondering if there was anything else she could say, or worrying that I wouldn’t actually speak to Damon. Guilt gnawed at me. I closed my eyes and battled against it, holding the robe so tightly that my nails bit through the silk. Savannah lingered in the passageway for another moment or two, but it wasn’t safe out there, especially for anyone who wasn’t a faerie. Eventually she did leave, and her shoes made faint sounds over the dirt.
Once it was evident she was gone, my shoulders drooped. A log on the fire shifted, creating a faint shower of sparks. The flare of light drew my attention back to that bed. Sleep was calling to me again, but I forced myself over to the washstand, where I brushed my teeth as quickly as I could. Then, at long last, I went over to that glorious bed. My veins hummed with anticipation as I took off the robe and reached for a nightgown resting on the edge of the mattress.