Treachery Queen (The Callistra Chronicles #1)

TWELVE

Chapter Twelve

Charlize was peering down at them from the balcony, whispering, "You want me to toss a rope?" like this was an everyday occurrence.

Pasiphae rubbed the goosebumps on her arms. The dagger was back in her pocket, staining the lining with jinn blood. Which was fantastic, really. She loved having strange, possibly venomous blood in her favourite cloak.

"What is that?"

Pasiphae turned to where Seth was looking, a note of disbelief in his voice.

"What?" she asked. "I don't see anything."

"Something..." Seth was frowning. "Something moved."

"If it was a shadow," Pasiphae said, taking ahold of the rope that Charlize threw down, "don't say I didn't tell you so."

She hauled herself up onto the glass landing, stretching her sore muscles. Inside the dark room, Pasiphae patted around the wall for the switch to turn the lights back on, but still couldn't seem to find it.

"It wasn't a shadow," Seth said indignantly, climbing up after her. "It looked more like smoke."

"I don't mean to question," Charlize said. "But I think smoke is supposed to move."

Pasiphae snorted, a short burst of amusement.

"Thanks, Char," Seth said, sliding the door closed with a solid click. He peered out to make sure there was no more smoke, then squinted at Charlize. "Go to sleep."

Charlize hurried off, taking the rope with her. She slammed her bedroom door shut loudly, inciting a lengthy groan from the middle room. It sounded a lot like Psyche being woken, which led Bel-Arh to crack open his door a peep and inspect what was going on before shutting it again. His face looked bored even in the low light.

The three guards seemed to have returned then. She would have asked where they had gotten to, but she had a feeling Seth wouldn't tell her anyway.

"Who's Kalis?" Pasiphae asked instead.

"Why are you asking me?" Seth retorted. He strode into the bathroom, triggering the automatic light that nearly blinded the both of them. When Seth had stopped stumbling, he started splashing water from the sink onto his face.

Pasiphae followed him closely, leaning against the doorway. "You obviously know who she is."

"What is really knowing someone though? Are you asking me about her title or her—"

"Seth!" Pasiphae interrupted.

He rested his hands on the basin, dripping water from his chin, staring directly ahead into his reflection in the overhead mirror. "She's officially the consort of one of the noble Unseelie fae, Aethel Norrenwall."

"Two fae can share a consort?"

He glanced at her sharply, and Pasiphae understood.

"Oh..."

Seth brushed by, kicking off his shoes.

"What does this have to do with the illness then?" Pasiphae continued. "All we've figured is that Warin leaves Khotadi often and has a secret consort."

"And maybe the secret consort can tell us why he keeps leaving," Seth said. He dived onto the bed in the corner, slumped at the far edge, his face buried into the pillow.

"We should be following up with more leads. This could turn out to be completely unrelated." Pasiphae didn't receive a response. "Seth?" Silence. "And where am I supposed to sleep?"