Page 79 of Let Slip the Dogs of War

“I did not see him at the ceremony.”

“Neither did I.”

Oisin looks at me grimly, and I have no doubt my expression mirrors his own. With any luck, this is nothing lasting, nothing truly out of the ordinary.

With any luck, Dante is already home and everything will be fine.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Dante

“Are we lost?” Ophelia asks. “Because it feels like we’re lost.”

“We’re not lost,” Grant mutters. He doesn’t sound annoyed, just confused. “We can’t be lost.”

We’re definitely lost. I turn in a circle, but all I see are pine trees in every direction, and even when I reach out with my magic, I can’t sense any familiar plants to help. Not that they don’t want to; they all react eagerly to the little I can sense from them. But they don’t know where we’re supposed to be either.

“I mean, I guess the witch did give us a shortcut,” Grant offers.

“You think she’d help us out again,” I reply.

We’ve been walking for much of the day. Ophelia brought a bag of supplies with her, so we’re not without water and some food, but it’s not going to last that long. I lean against a tree and sigh.

“We could head back?” Ophelia offers. I know how frustrated she is. All this way, to fall at the final hurdle? “At least Lark might be able to show us where to go now.”

Now that he’s crowned. Will Ophelia’s disappearance have been noticed? I suppose the fae might not care right this second. Tomorrow, maybe. Once it’s sunk in that their realm isn’t going to fall apart.

I glance up at the sky. The suns are still up, though they’re beginning to lower. Will I see more stars tonight?

“Try the mirror again,” Ophelia says.

I take it from my pocket, but try as I might, I can’t make it work. More worryingly, neither can Grant nor Ophelia, and they’ve both got more magic than me. I rub a hand over my tired face. Maybe I should have slept last night, but I can’t regret what Lark and I did. It wasn’t just about the sex. He opened up to me, and we spent a lot of time after cleaning up just… talking.

My chest aches. I don’t know if it’s the bond or simple heartbreak. Probably a little of both. Not worth dwelling on right now, either way. We need to get out of here.

Grant lifts his head, expression determined. “This way,” he says, then strides off between the trees.

I exchange an amused glance with Ophelia before we both fall into step behind him.

“Thank fuck he’s more chill about this than Felix would be,” Ophelia mutters, and I swallow a laugh.

“Yeah, he’d have us climbing trees, looking for a way out.”

“Remember when he said he could drive us across Europe?”

“I remember him forcing me out of the car in the south of France because he didn’t want to ask for directions, even though he speaks French and I don’t.”

“And then he was so astonished when you got chased out of a field by that farmer!” Ophelia laughs, shaking her head.

“And what were you doing at the time, I wonder?”

“Enjoying the show.” She shakes her head. “He really came down to London?”

“Of course he did.”

We walk a few steps in silence. Grant doesn’t appear to be listening to either of us. He’s muttering to himself, mostly, face turning this way and that. I feel the ebb and flow of his magic as he tries to find the right path.

“I’m sorry,” Ophelia says suddenly.