Page 144 of Fallacies

“Yes, seriously,” he mocks. “The Countess's inner circle reeks of high power. I’ll find the three most potent, and those will be our targets.”

Reeks.

I’m a fucking idiot—he can smell them. In the woods, when he pointed to his nose, I hadn’t fully registered what he meant, but I get it now.

I exhale my frustration, my gaze drifting to the fire. If the Hound can find the sources that fast, then all we’ll need to do is figure out the best way to…kill them…so the ward will weaken enough for the Sol to pass through it. Gods, we could do that in two days, maybe even one. All we need to figure out is⁠—

“Can you get me into the dungeons?” I ask.

We need a way to open the cages. I need to talk to Callan’s father, and all of them will need time to prepare.

“Yes,” he replies, reaching for another drink. “But not tonight. They’ve increased security as of this morning, but I’ll find a way around it tomorrow.”

I fold my arms across my chest. “They found the guard you killed, didn’t they?” Gods, that could ruin everything.

“No,” he tells me, dragging out the word, “they found an abandoned post and increased the number of guards because of it. I took care of his body.”

“Oh.” My arms fall back to my sides. “Well, that’s good. I guess.”

He nods, and I’m sure this is my cue to leave, but I don’t.

“How long do you think all this will take?” I ask. “Freeing them, I mean?”

Something about my question seems to be funny to him because he grins down at his drink before raising it to his lips. “You can tell your little boyfriend and his coven that we’ll have it done in two days.”

All the blood drains from my face.

His smile widens. “I’ve been hunting you, Lucina. I told you that. Ever since you stepped out of wherever it was you were hiding.”

It’s such a simple thing for him to admit, but it’s hair-raising to hear.

The Hound nods to the window and the dark sky beyond it. “And I’ve never seen stars act that way before.”

I’m going to blame it on exhaustion. And the lingering effects of being Snared within an inch of my life. I might even attribute it to relief—at finally seeing some kind of light at the end of this tunnel. Whatever it is, I find myself smiling. Wide. There’s even an urge to laugh building inside of me.

“You are…absolutely terrifying,” I tell him.

The Hound inclines his head. “Thank you.”

“Right, well,” I run my hands over my face and smooth down my hair, “I’m going to find a nice broom closet to crash in. Where should I meet you in⁠—”

“I’ll find you.”

Of course he will.

Nodding in agreement, I turn towards the door.

“Salem,” he blurts out.

I freeze, spinning around to face him. “What?”

“My name,” the Hound sighs, shoulders sinking in what looks like defeat. But when he notes my widening eyes, his expression hardens. “Tell anyone, Lucina, and I’ll have to kill you.”

34

Callan

The first Rogue I’d ever killed died a quick death.