down.”
Dorian was staring at him with concern, and maybe something else, something Caius couldn’t respond to. It tugged at his heart, but not in the way he suspected Dorian might want it to. Every friendship had its secrets, and he was willing to play the oblivious fool if it meant Dorian got to keep his. Dorian looked like he wanted to ask Caius about the slight hitch in his voice, about the haunted look Caius feared was in his eyes.
“And when I find her?” Dorian asked.
“Do nothing,” Caius said. If he wanted something done right, he would do it himself. “Report back to me.”
“What are you planning, Caius?” Dorian’s tone was not that of an obedient guard, but that of an old friend.
Finding the map, written in Rose’s hand, and the locket Caius had given her meant that she’d been involved, somehow, in Avicen business in Japan, and he’d never known. He had told her everything about himself, every secret, everyembarrassing story, every wish and dream he’d ever had. She’d known it all, and he was beginning to think now that he had only begun to scratch the surface of her. He remembered the feel of her skin against his lips as he kissed the side of her neck, admiring the way the locket had gleamed in the soft glow of the candles on her dressing table. The road to the firebird had led him here, picking up traces of the girl he’d loved and lost so long ago. He had to know how Rose fit into all this, had to make sense of the scattered puzzle pieces she’d left behind. “I’m going after the girl myself,” he told Dorian, “but not as the Dragon Prince. This is personal. She has something of mine, and I’m going to get it back.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Echo emerged from the Astor Place subway station, the locket weighing heavily around her neck. She didn’t dare go back to Grand Central, not when there was a chance that the Drakharin had been able to track her through the in-between. Her hands still shook from adrenaline, fingers sooty with the remnants of shadow dust. Before she did anything else, went anywhere else, she needed more. If they found her, she needed to be able to make a break for it through whichever gateway was nearest. Zipping her jacket against the wind, she started down Saint Mark’s Place. One quick stop at the Agora to get more dust from Perrin, and then onward to the Ala.
She sucked in a deep breath, losing herself in the crowd of anonymous pedestrians. She was afraid that if she closed her eyes she would see the bright red of the old woman’s blood gleaming on the one-eyed Drakharin’s blade. It had been so shiny, like liquid rubies. Even with the blaring hornsof rush-hour traffic, Echo could still hear the woman’s last, rasping breaths.
Echo fumbled for the locket, slipping the chain over her head. There had to be something in it, something the Drakharin wanted badly enough to kill for. She tried to pry it open at the seam, but the clasp was old and warped, as if it had been smashed shut. It was jammed. Whatever secrets it held would stay secret until she or the Ala managed to coax them free.
With the locket clutched tightly in her fist, Echo shoved her dirty hands in her pockets as Crif Dogs’ cheerful sign came into view. The blue-haired girl was still behind the counter, feet propped up, as if she hadn’t moved since Echo had last been there. Echo didn’t bother smiling this time, breezing past the crowded tables to the phone booth, speaking the password into the receiver on autopilot. She was halfway through the labyrinth when she heard voices. Voices she recognized. Biting back a curse, Echo ducked back behind a corner, praying to every god there was that she hadn’t been seen.
“She’s planning something. I can feel it in my bones,” the speaker hissed. It was Ruby. Teacher’s pet to Altair. Training partner to Rowan. Mortal enemy to Echo.
Crap
. Echo pressed herself against the wall, the edges of an alcove digging painfully into her
Dorian was staring at him with concern, and maybe something else, something Caius couldn’t respond to. It tugged at his heart, but not in the way he suspected Dorian might want it to. Every friendship had its secrets, and he was willing to play the oblivious fool if it meant Dorian got to keep his. Dorian looked like he wanted to ask Caius about the slight hitch in his voice, about the haunted look Caius feared was in his eyes.
“And when I find her?” Dorian asked.
“Do nothing,” Caius said. If he wanted something done right, he would do it himself. “Report back to me.”
“What are you planning, Caius?” Dorian’s tone was not that of an obedient guard, but that of an old friend.
Finding the map, written in Rose’s hand, and the locket Caius had given her meant that she’d been involved, somehow, in Avicen business in Japan, and he’d never known. He had told her everything about himself, every secret, everyembarrassing story, every wish and dream he’d ever had. She’d known it all, and he was beginning to think now that he had only begun to scratch the surface of her. He remembered the feel of her skin against his lips as he kissed the side of her neck, admiring the way the locket had gleamed in the soft glow of the candles on her dressing table. The road to the firebird had led him here, picking up traces of the girl he’d loved and lost so long ago. He had to know how Rose fit into all this, had to make sense of the scattered puzzle pieces she’d left behind. “I’m going after the girl myself,” he told Dorian, “but not as the Dragon Prince. This is personal. She has something of mine, and I’m going to get it back.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Echo emerged from the Astor Place subway station, the locket weighing heavily around her neck. She didn’t dare go back to Grand Central, not when there was a chance that the Drakharin had been able to track her through the in-between. Her hands still shook from adrenaline, fingers sooty with the remnants of shadow dust. Before she did anything else, went anywhere else, she needed more. If they found her, she needed to be able to make a break for it through whichever gateway was nearest. Zipping her jacket against the wind, she started down Saint Mark’s Place. One quick stop at the Agora to get more dust from Perrin, and then onward to the Ala.
She sucked in a deep breath, losing herself in the crowd of anonymous pedestrians. She was afraid that if she closed her eyes she would see the bright red of the old woman’s blood gleaming on the one-eyed Drakharin’s blade. It had been so shiny, like liquid rubies. Even with the blaring hornsof rush-hour traffic, Echo could still hear the woman’s last, rasping breaths.
Echo fumbled for the locket, slipping the chain over her head. There had to be something in it, something the Drakharin wanted badly enough to kill for. She tried to pry it open at the seam, but the clasp was old and warped, as if it had been smashed shut. It was jammed. Whatever secrets it held would stay secret until she or the Ala managed to coax them free.
With the locket clutched tightly in her fist, Echo shoved her dirty hands in her pockets as Crif Dogs’ cheerful sign came into view. The blue-haired girl was still behind the counter, feet propped up, as if she hadn’t moved since Echo had last been there. Echo didn’t bother smiling this time, breezing past the crowded tables to the phone booth, speaking the password into the receiver on autopilot. She was halfway through the labyrinth when she heard voices. Voices she recognized. Biting back a curse, Echo ducked back behind a corner, praying to every god there was that she hadn’t been seen.
“She’s planning something. I can feel it in my bones,” the speaker hissed. It was Ruby. Teacher’s pet to Altair. Training partner to Rowan. Mortal enemy to Echo.
Crap
. Echo pressed herself against the wall, the edges of an alcove digging painfully into her
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