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“Ada—”
“Is this way,” he cuts me off. “Come on.”
Once I get to his side, I struggle to slow my racing mind. Why aren’t we running? Other than being told as children not to run through the palace...
I repeat my thoughts aloud. “Why aren’t you in a hurry?”
“Ecaeris said Ada is fine.” Imryll frowns at me. “But we lost Garben today.”
“Oh, no,” I breathe. “Is Tal…”
“He’s okay,” Imy says. “He told Garben’s family. They’re in the dining hall, taking a moment to grieve before they’re escorted to the catacombs to see him.”
I pick up my pace, hoping he’ll take the hint. “Were you waiting for me?”
“I was on my way to get you,” he tells me. “How did you know?”
“Will and I finished early,” I explain. “When we walked outside, I just knew. I could smell Ada’s soap in the air, floral sweetness mixing with burning woods. I didn’t even have to see it to know something was wrong.”
“Magnolias,” he comments. “She says the soap reminds her of her father and the magnolia tree that she had at home.”
“You know what that is?” I inquire.
He shrugs. “It’s a tree.”
I roll my eyes, a bad habit we’ve all picked up from Ada. “I mean what it looks like... Or where that scent comes from here.”
“You won’t believe me if I tell you.” He chuckles and raises a brow. “Just guess.”
“What is it?” I gripe, not in the mood for games.
Imryll casts me a humorous glance, though his usual mischief is missing. “The star flowers—”
“No,” I drawl. “Really?”
“The petals aren’t poisonous. When they’re dried and crushed…” He grins. “That’s where the scent comes from.”
“Please, don’t tell her that,” I mutter. “She’s already fascinated by them. I know she’ll figure it out on her own, but I don’t want to romp through the fields.”
He sighs. “They won’t hurt her.”
“We don’t know that yet. None of us know what will affect her or won’t,” I argue, hoping he’ll understand what I mean. “Just because she can’t die doesn’t mean she won’t have the symptoms for days at a time.”
“We now know she’s fire resistant,” he mentions, like it’s no big deal. “That’s all they told me.”
I squint at him. “Repeat that.”
He opens the door to Isolde’s office, and Ada holds her hand toward Madigan, her middle finger extended. I only know what that gesture means because of William, though I don’t quite understand why Madi laughs.
“Aww, Ada,” the new Shade queen playfully teases. “Pink is such a good color on you.”
“Care to explain why you’re pink?” Lyell asks, rolling his lips between his teeth as if he doesn’t want to say anything else.
Ada turns, and Imryll goes rigid at my side. Her cheeks and chest hold splashes of raw skin, the top edges of her blouse tattered and burned. Imy is across the room before I can blink. He tilts her head to one side, then the other, examining her injuries.
She grins, humoring him. “It’s healing. I’ll be fine in a bit.”
“Fine?” he inquires. “How bad were they?”
