Page 89 of Fallen Nocturne

That leaves Thormein.

“I still haven’t been able to find Thormein, the last Aeonian. It sits with me.” His fingers curl beneath mine, as though he is holding on to something he cannot release.

“Garrett, you uncovered what they were doing and exposed them to all of Aelfheim. I am more grateful than I can say.”

“But if the remaining Aeonian begins again—”

“Then we will find him,” I say.

His jaw tightens. He is still punishing himself for it.

“Do not be so hard on yourself,” I tell him gently. “You need rest.”

I already gave Darstan time away to be with Siofra and Aldric. Perhaps my other two royal guards should take some time for themselves as well. “Consider yourself relieved of duty for a few days, Garrett.”

“What? But your protection—”

“Rainer has hired enough guards to protect an entire royal court, let alone one household. I will be safe.” I squeeze his hand before releasing it. “Rest easy, Garrett.”

He opens his mouth to argue. I shake my head before he can.

A faint smile touches his mouth. This one is more real, though the sadness behind it remains. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

I wish I had time to ask him more, but Coral has already been gone for an hour. Every moment I remain here gives her more time to wander deeper into the city.

I leave Garrett and hurry toward the northern gate. Behind me, Landon calls my name, asking me to return to the training grounds.

He wants me to practice more formations with his legion, but I don’t stop. Something is wrong. I can feel it in my bones. I break into a run hoping I’ll reach Coral in time.

I find her trail near the market square. A smear of mud on the cobblestones that could only come from dragging wings. My heart clenches at the sight.

She’s not even trying to hold them up anymore.

The trail leads away from the main thoroughfare, into the narrow alleys that wind between buildings.

Ahead, I catch a glimpse of pale scales disappearing around a corner.

I follow, pressing myself against the damp stone walls, using every bit of cover the narrow alley provides. The mud trail continues. Two shallow grooves run through the muck where her wings dragged behind her.

The alley opens into a small courtyard and there she is. Coral moves with her head low, her tail tucked, her wings trailing through puddles and dirt. She doesn’t look around or pause to investigate interesting smells. My little one doesn’t even bother to chase the rat that scurries across her path.

I follow her through three more streets, past the tanner’s shop and the abandoned granary with its broken windows. She never looks back or notices me trailing behind her. The sun is setting, casting long shadows that help conceal me.

Coral turns down another alley, this one even narrower than the last. I can hear a rhythmic clanging and the hiss of steam.

Every muscle in my body goes tight.

Oh no.

The forge. She’s heading to the forge. To Arescaine, the vampire blacksmith.

I trust Arescaine more than I did before our mission together. He protected me from the commander’s spell, allowing his own wings to burn rather than let the fire touch me. But trusting him with my life in one dangerous moment is not the same as trusting him with Coral.

What if she distracts him while he is handling molten metal? What if she knocks something over or gets beneath his feet while he is working?

Then there are the stories people whisper about vampires. Stories of violent tempers and terrible things done to those who provoke them. I have seen enough of Arescaine to know that many of those tales may be unfair but Coral is stubborn. She is clumsy and entirely unaware of danger.

Coral could easily get in his way while he was working, knock something over, or startle him at the wrong moment. Would his patience hold?