Page 131 of Of Bargains & Betrayal

“Well, that’s a problem.” Maksym glanced at his bargain-marked palm, running his fingers over the surface. “She isn’t far, but she’s not here. Fuck. Stay put.”

I didn’t get in a single word before Maksym was charging back into his chambers, giving the door a forceful shut behind him.

Well, at least we were both panicking a little.

He reemerged minutes later, fully dressed and looking infinitely more pissed off. “Fucking sprite,” he mumbled. “Refusing to heed my call.”

Well, this was going to be interesting without Eilir.

Sprites had the most incredible ability to locate a person’s makeup of aether as long as they had spent some time around them and forged even the slightest connection. It was something Eilir had done amply with Enora, but we were clearly on our own for the time being.

“It’s fine.” My reassurance came out with little confidence. “Someone is bound to have seen her.”

Maksym regarded me with hefty skepticism and pushed on in silence.

In our brief sweep of the upper halls, precisely no one had encountered our missing princess—not that many were around outside of bleary-eyed guards and maids.

We checked room after room, many of which were only accessible to Maksym (but he insisted they warranted a check), and found ourselves at the atrium lookout with matching furrowed brows.

“You there,” Maksym called out to the sentries posted by the door as he hurried down the stairs in a series of concerning leaps. “Have either of you seen Miss Wynn?”

One shook their helmeted head vehemently.

“No, but uh—” The other cleared their throat. “The last post said she was by an hour or two ago. Went looking for Gallan, apparently, but I haven’t seen either of them.”

This was getting worse by the minute.

Why Enora would go looking for Gallan, I couldn’t fathom. They’d interacted when she was in the cellblock and a few other times, sure, but I’d never thought it to be in any meaningful way. And why she’d seek him out so early… I was at a loss, and Maksym clearly was too. He fixed me with an uneasy look before bidding the sentry goodbye and charging toward the residential halls. Leaving me, again, to chase after him and his long fucking legs. We didn’t make it far before Eilir materialized in a wisp of light smoke, and Maksym let out a string of startled curses as he backed into me.

The sprite stretched and yawned, fluttering its wings as it let out a tiny, petulant sigh. “This had better be good, Max. I was having the best sleep.”

“So. Was. I,” Maksym bit back. “We are more than even in that regard, sprite.”

“Oh really?” Eilir chirped. “Even? In what regard are we ever⁠—”

“Both of you, just shut up!” I pinched my brow and let out a heavy sigh. Mina, help me with these two. “Enora is…missing,” I said with an abundance of caution, and Eilir’s attention snapped over to me.

“Missing?” they squeaked. “What do you mean, missing? I can still feel her. She’s…she’s—” The sprite’s right eye twitched. “She’s in Embervale? At…the Wench? Why is she in Embervale and I…I’m not there with her?”

Why Eilir’s face fell so suddenly, and their bottom lip trembled, was something I had no interest in exploring. There was far too much to unpack there, and Maksym was already reaching for my shoulder.

“Your guess is as good as ours,” he huffed.

Eilir made a pained noise and then vanished.

“Here we go,” was my only warning to Maksym before I reached into the planes and stepped us through.

The cobbled streets of Embervale formed beneath our feet, a cacophony of noise swirling around us, and something immediately felt wrong.

“What the fuck,” Maksym muttered.

He had my wholehearted agreement.

I couldn’t recall the last time so many shifters filled the city at sunrise, let alone ones of rank and order, and in such a state of organized chaos. City folk flanked the streets too, sitting on porches and standing in doorways, nursing steaming mugs with their attention turned to the commotion.

Maksym was already trudging through the people—and brushing off the greetings he really needed to acknowledge—once I realized I could recall the last time this scene had played out before me. I hurried after him, dodging too many damned bodies paying too little attention to where they were going, and received swift confirmation of my fears.

Toward the end of the street, four emaciated bodies were in various stages of being wrapped and prepared for transport while a trio of shifter clergymen presided over them.