Page 61 of Harbinger

Taliesin follows him inside. “If she’s the harbinger, it’s exactly that simple.”

I push myself flatter against the wall. I could show myself. It’s not like eating cheese at midnight is a crime. But they’re talking about me, so I stay where I am to hear more.

Do these people have nothing better to talk about than me?

They pause long enough that I’m sure they’ve heard me. My heart hammers against my ribs until I hear the wet squelch of muddy boots being pulled off.

“I hate to say it, but if what’s written is—” Taliesin continues.

“Don’t finish that thought.” Bishop’s voice is quieter now, like he doesn’t want anyone to hear, not even the walls.

But Taliesin sighs. “You’re the one who dragged her here. Lied for her.”

“I didn’t lie,” Bishop says. “I kept her alive.”

“Was that the wisest course of action? Because now she’s here.”

“That’s my problem.”

Something heavy lands on the prep table with a dull thud, followed by the scraping of chair legs on stone.

Fantastic. They’re getting comfortable. How many times can I get stuck in a dark corner hiding from Bishop Marius?

“Do you want a bandage for that?” Taliesin asks.

“It’s fine.”

It’s the middle of the night, and one of them is bleeding—why am I not surprised?

“That’s what you always say.” Taliesin sounds close to shaking him. “If you would just carry your astrolabe—”

“I hate those things.” He’s grumpier than usual.

Taliesin sighs like he’s lost this argument too many times to bother again. “So, what are you going to do with your guest?”

“I don’t know yet,” Bishop admits.

“You brought her all the way here, and you still have no idea?”

Bishop doesn’t answer, and silence stretches between them, punctuated by the rattling wind.

“She’s dangerous,” Taliesin says, softer than I’ve ever heard him. “If she really is—”

If she really is. Even Taliesin won’t finish the thought. Like just saying the name Ravenell might wake the terrible powers still dormant inside me.

“If she is, then the only ones in danger are the people trying to kill her.”

Taliesin snorts. “You actually believe that?”

“I don’t have a choice,” Bishop says. “Not until I know more.”

A chill settles over me, as brittle as the fear in my veins. I need to know what they’re talking about.

Finally, Taliesin clears his throat. “And if she tries to escape?”

“She won’t,” Bishops says. “She hates the postern, and she’d never survive the mountains.”

“Desperation makes you do reckless shit,” Taliesin warns him. “Now that she’s able to leave her room, I’ll keep an eye on her.”