Treachery Queen (The Callistra Chronicles #1)

ELEVEN

Chapter Eleven

When Pasiphae jolted awake, she thought immediately that something was wrong.

Her hair was matted in her face and her limbs were tangled with the covers after she had stuck herself in half-heartedly. The lights overhead were suddenly blinding to her sensitive eyes, and she had to take a moment to recover, blinking rapidly.

She was still the only one in the room, with the door locked.

How much time had passed?

Sitting upright, Pasiphae tried to work out what it was that woke her. She gripped her stomach, trying to feel for the remnants of magic that she thought was still drifting around. Not fae, and definitely not witch.

The balcony creaked.

Pasiphae immediately dived off the bed, crouching by the frame, waiting. She knew that this room was on the ground floor, but on their way here, she had felt the floorboards elevate, acting as ramps, with the farther into the palace they got.

Slowly she crawled to the sliding doors, her face pressed against the glass. She cupped her hands atop her brow to shield the light.

They were much higher up that she had thought, with enough distance from the gardens that Pasiphae might break an ankle if she jumped poorly from the balcony. The door wouldn't open, but the balcony itself was made of glass too, and she could see the garden below.

Nothing looked out of the ordinary. There was only the quiet hum of the palace under a darkened sky.

Shouldn't the sky be lightening instead?

Pasiphae sought out the moon. The back-tracked position confirmed her suspicions. She had slept away more than an entire day.

Pasiphae was momentarily stunned enough that she didn't catch the flash of movement in her peripheral vision until it was too late, going by so quickly that it could have been her imagination. She gripped the glass, pressing her entire face into cold surface. With the lights inside turned on, the gardens were hardly visible, the reflection of the room overpowering the view. Nevertheless, Pasiphae kept watch patiently.

When there was the slightest movement again, she could have sworn it was the shadows moving, swirling like enraged wind spirits.

The thin hairs at the back of her neck rose. Something crackled in the atmosphere around her.

"What are we looking at?"

Pasiphae shrieked at the sudden whisper by her ear, lashing out with her arms. She managed a solid smack of her fist before realising it was Seth.

"Why don't you make any noise?" she hissed in lieu of an apology. The door to their room was wide open. He had slipped in sometime during her inspection of the gardens below, while her face was pressed against the sliding door.

"I'm fine, thanks for asking," Seth grumbled, rubbing his bruised stomach. "And I was plenty noisy, you were just too preoccupied."

Pasiphae whirled back to the glass. "Can you turn off the lights? There's something moving down there."

"I'm alive after twenty-four hours of brutal spy work, thank you for asking as well. You're truly a talented conversationalist."

"Lights!"

He hit a switch on the wall that Pasiphae hadn't noticed. "What do you see?"

Pasiphae frowned. "It's gone now." She kept staring, waiting for the shadows to move again, but there was nothing. "I think it was a sylph."