“Cleanse the land as quickly as possible and pray it is enough.”
Ronan and Reyna exchanged a look.
“If the Shadows are the source of the corruption, then we need to track them down. I will send word to the other realms, asking if there have been any sightings. It will give us a place to start if nothing else,” Ronan said.
The Triumvirate dipped their heads in a nod.
“Should I warn them about the marker?” he asked.
“No.”
“All it will do is spread fear.”
“The Chosen are already on guard; it should be enough to keep them safe.”
For now. The words were left unsaid, but they rang through her mind loud and clear.
Tingles raced under Effie’s skin, and she rubbed her arms trying to alleviate some of the uncomfortable burn.
“Effie?” Reyna asked, missing nothing.
The Night Stalker’s voice was pitched low, but it didn’t prevent the men in the room from hearing. She could feel the weight of the others’ stares as their unwavering attention landed on her.
“I’m fine,” she hedged with a wan smile. “Just lingering side effects of the vision and too little sleep.”
In reality, it was a very reasonable excuse, although Effie doubted it was the actual reason she currently felt so unsettled.
Ronan’s eyes roamed over her face. “You look like you should be in bed.”
Effie rolled her eyes. She knew he meant well, and had no doubt it was an accurate assessment, but no woman ever wanted to hear that she looked like a steaming pile of shit. Still, she couldn’t argue the idea held appeal. Effie hadn’t wanted to get out of bed in the first place, and that had been before her vision slammed into her. Aren’t they supposed to be affecting me less by now?
“Maybe you’re on to something,” she said.
“I’ll escort you to your room,” Ronan offered.
She glanced at the Triumvirate. “Do you need anything else from me?”
“Rest, Daughter.”
With a small wave at the others, she wove her arm through Ronan’s and turned for the hall that would lead her back to her room.
They walked in companionable silence, and Effie enjoyed the slight reprieve from having to act like she wasn’t still overwhelmed by the morning’s discoveries. First there’d been the run-in with her Guardian and tutor after the prior night’s series of terrible decisions, not to mention the part where she was still technically recovering from her battle with the Shadows the day before. All of that followed by yet another horrifying vision and the realization that while the war might be over, death still hunted all of them.
“Lovely,” she breathed, not fully aware she’d spoken the thought aloud.
Ronan peered down at her with a raised brow. “I highly doubt you’re referring to the empty hallway.”
Effie smirked. “Just reflecting on the mess we’ve found ourselves in.”
He grunted. “We’ve dealt with worse.”
“Have we?” she stopped, turning to face him. “The Corruptor was one thing, but this . . .” she waved her arms, at a loss for words.
“Most battles feel impossible until they are over.”
“Ronan, this isn’t just any battle—”
“We have enemies to defeat, and we’re trying to protect those we love. It is exactly like every other battle. You cannot give what lies ahead more power by amplifying its importance in your mind. That kind of thinking will paralyze you with fear. In battle, decisions need to be made based on instinct and speed. Fear will only slow you down.”
“Fear makes you cautious.”
“It’s what will get you dead.”
Effie crossed her arms and stared up at him, shaking her head. “I’ve missed you.”
His eyes crinkled as he smiled. “And I you.”
“It feels like months since I saw you last.”
“A lot has happened since you left camp,” he said, clamping a hand down on her shoulder, squeezing slightly.
Effie winced. The touch was not painful, but it caused her skin to pull where the Shadow had bitten her. Gingerly, Effie rubbed at her fresh scar, feeling icy pinpricks shoot down her back at the slight contact.
Ronan frowned. “You’re injured.”
She knew better than to try to lie to him. “As you said, a lot has happened.”
He ran a hand over her newly shorn curls. “So it would seem. Why this change?”
“A Shadow bit me.”
Ronan cursed and gently peeled her tunic back to look at the silvery scar. His expression darkened, and Effie pressed her hand over his.
“The healers fixed me up. I’m fine, Ronan. No need to worry.”
Her words did little to clear the storm from his eyes.
“Effie.”
Her stomach clenched before her eyes shifted to the towering figure a few feet away. “Guardian.”
A quick peek showed her that Ronan wasn’t any happier about his appearance than she was. The Shield’s frown deepened as he stared with blatant dislike at Lucian. For some perverse reason, the knowledge filled her with glee. Finally, there was someone else around who didn’t immediately cower at his feet.
She was doubly glad for Ronan’s presence because it also meant she didn’t have to face her Guardian alone. After last night, Effie wasn’t certain she could be trusted.
“Did you need something?” she asked.
As if punishing her, Effie’s eyes drank him in as she waited for his answer.
Lucian’s dark eyes were unreadable under his heavy brow and thick lashes. The metallic flecks she knew to ring his pupils were barely visible in their depths.
It was impossible to ignore the pang in her chest as she recalled the feel of his stubble scraping over her skin as his lips moved against hers. Effie swallowed and struggled to tear her eyes from his mouth. Some of last night’s madness must not have worked its way out of her system yet.
“I wanted to check and see if you were okay,” he answered in his low rumble.
She blinked. “Oh, um. I’m alright.”
He stared down at her in that unflinching way of his, and she fought the urge to squirm.
“I’m taking her to her room to rest. Triumvirate’s orders,” Ronan interjected.
Lucian’s jaw clenched. “I’ll see her to her room, Shield. She’s my charge, after all,” he added, throwing Ronan a pointed look.
Ronan tilted his head, returning Lucian’s glower with one of his own. “Didn’t seem to care about that too much when you let that monster take a chunk out of her.”
Her Guardian’s eyes narrowed into slits.
Effie moved fast, placing herself between them, not sure who would win if they came to blows and not eager to find out.
“Ronan,” she said, pulling the red-headed man’s attention back to her, “why don’t you go send those requests to the other realms? The sooner we hear back, the better.”
He rolled his lips together, about to argue the point.
“Please.”
He lifted his gaze to stare at Lucian over her head. He didn’t speak, but the threat was evident in the harsh lines of his face.
“I’ll check on you later, Effie,” he said, moving back the way they’d just come.