Page 105 of The Dragon and the Dove

‘We can’t outrun them,’ said Ransom, searching the horizon for another safe house. Fields spilled out in a patchwork of green and gold, the land surrendering nothing of use. He conjured his shadows. ‘I can try and hide us.’

‘No.’ Bunching the reins in one hand, she tipped her face back to the sky. ‘Save your shadows. We’ll need them if the Stargrazers land.’

The air grew heavy. Droplets clung to his skin and curled the strands around Sera’s face as a grey mist thickened around them. He didn’t have to glimpse Paola’s face to know her eyes were alight, her magic, newly sown, was already in bloom.

Soon, the storm swallowed them, a canopy of clouds forming like a bruise. They sank low, coming to rest on their shoulders. The sky blurred and Ransom lost sight of the Strix.

They rode on into the darkening night.

As rolling farmland narrowed into cobbled streets, Paola began to tire. Her storm withered to a lone cloud. She would not relinquish it, and as they finally ducked under Hangman’s Pass, her eyes burned low, like dying embers.

By then, the Strix were a distant fear. Ransom pictured them circling the eastern farmland, futile and furious.

When they returned, at last, to House Armand, it was almost dawn. The Hollows slumbered, save for the rats skittering in the alleys. Paola’s cloud came to settle on the roof of the old manor. Pricked by the weathervane that spun there, it dissolved in a brisk shower, baptizing the old woman who was waiting for them in the garden.

Rain drenched the shawl around Madame Fontaine’s head and dripped off the end of her nose as she glared up at them.

Drawing Bolt to a halt by the gate, Paola offered a sheepish wave. ‘Apologies, Madame Fontaine. I didn’t see you there.’

Unbothered by the unexpected deluge, Madame Fontaine’s lips flickered into a rare smile. ‘Fate has favoured your quest. I was not convinced it would.’

When Ransom dismounted with Seraphine in his arms, the smile slid from her face. She shuffled closer, shivering through her teeth.

‘Wake her up for hell’s sake,’ she hissed. ‘It’s not time yet.’

Sera’s lids fluttered. She stirred awake, and at the sight of her soft blue eyes all thought and worry left him.

It was only after, when they were safely inside, that Ransom recalled the old soothsayer’s words and wondered what they meant.

Chapter 26 Seraphine

Sera sat at a table in the kitchen of House Armand, staring vacantly into her tea. She was awake but still hollowed out. Her throat was raw, her lungs like crumpled paper. If she stood too quickly, she might keel over.

Ransom watched her from across the table, tracking every flicker of movement. She sipped her tea and listened to Paola recount their daring escape, a feat made possible by the success of her making.

A Saint of Storms.

It was a perfect fit.

Sera’s relief was a balm, but it was not strong enough to ease the uncomfortable tightening in her chest. Her chair scraped along the tiles as she shoved it back, coming to her feet. ‘Excuse me.’

Ransom shot up after her.

‘I’m all right,’ she said, lying through her smile. ‘Just exhausted.’

His gaze turned wary. ‘You’re swaying.’

‘I’m filthy,’ she countered, tugging at the sleeves of her nightgown. It was streaked in blood and dirt and threaded with bits of hay. ‘I have to wash and crawl into bed before anyone else catches sight of me. It’s bad enough Fontaine has seen me like this.’

‘I’ll walk with you.’

‘For Oriel’s sake, let the woman bathe in peace,’ said Paola, rising from her own chair. ‘She’s not going to disappear down the plughole.’ Ransom tensed. She squeezed his shoulder, and Sera noted the companionable warmth in her eyes. ‘We should all get some rest.’

But Ransom refused sleep, choosing to go instead to the roof. Along the way, he walked her back to their bedroom on the sixth floor, stealing a moment alone with her.

She splayed her hands across his chest. ‘Don’t stay up there too long. You need your sleep too.’

He brushed her hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering along her jaw. She turned into his palm, inhaling his warmth. ‘Just because I’m not beside you, doesn’t mean I’m not watching over you,’ he said, softly. ‘You are my first thought every morning. My last thought at night. And all the ones in between. I swear I’ll never lose you again.’