Page 63 of A Spell of Heart & Havoc

“Well, I am her bodyguard,” Mae said wryly.

“SHUT UP,” Petra shrieked again. “With the constant fucking annoying quips and the holier-than-thou air, GODS. I don’t know how you stand her, Dove. But ever since she arrived you’ve been obsessed.”

“Obsessed seems a bit much. We despised each other for quite a bit there at first,” Mae said.

I laid a hand on her arm, not liking the way Petra shook slightly, the white-knuckled grip on her knife’s handle.

“So,” I said, trying to rein things in. “You felt like I’d—what, dropped you for Mae? You… missed me. And now you’re lashing out by stealing the things my family and I love?”

Petra blinked, then swiped through the air with her blade, making me jump again. “No, Dove. No. I just remembered what my priorities were.” She turned, slashing my large canvas on the wall—a blue one that Maerryl loved—and my heart ached. “That’s all. I was sent here to do a job.” Another quick slash of her knife, tearing through it. Destroying it.

“Petra, please! Stop!” I hurried over to my jewelry box, which held the few small baubles I’d bought in recent months. My hair clasps, a necklace, some earrings. “Take these, and let’s end this. Here, they’re—” I opened the wooden box to find nothing. It was empty.

I sighed and turned back to her slowly. “You already collected them, I see.”

Petra raised her chin, not even a flicker of guilt in her blue eyes. She seemed foreign to me, as if we hadn’t spent the past months together, talking, laughing, crying, gossiping. Doing each other’s hair and walking the grounds. Building a friendship—well, what I thought was a true friendship.

Every day. Every day she looked back at me, just plotting for the time she could pull my world out from under me. Pain twisted in my chest, pressing against my lungs. Dammit, Petra. Could I have prevented it? Was I really as thoughtless as she described, so wrapped up in Maerryl that I’d abandoned her, pushed her to act?

Codswallop.

“Petra,” I said, steadying my voice. “You need to leave now. You’ve taken everything you can. Go.”

Her eyes flashed dangerously. “I’ll leave when I say it’s time. You are not in control of me, Dovey.”

“I never wanted to be! This is all in your head!”

“It is NOT!” She darted forward, putting me between her and Mae, and waved her knife heart-stoppingly close to my face. Mae came nearer but halted as Petra pressed the tip to the side of my neck. I froze.

We all stared at each other, breathing heavily. Stiv, across the room, looking like he wanted nothing to do with this scene, was shaking his head again and glancing at the exit. I strained to see Mae, her furious, stricken face nearly a match to Petra’s. The cold metal kissed my neck, sharp and terrifying. I didn’t know what to do, what to say that could reverse what was happening.

Suddenly, a large bird flew through the open window, flapping hideously until it perched on the top of my vanity mirror. I screamed. Petra startled. Metal bit into my skin, making me screech in pain.

28

MAERRYL

At Dove’s cry, Petra’s blade retreated. Her gaze darted between Dove and the slitling. Using the moment of distraction, I grabbed Dove and pulled her around to my side, stepping us back against the sofa. With careful fingers, I tugged away the hand she held to her neck.

Sighing in relief, I said, “It’s okay. You’re okay, love. It’s not deep.” Tearing off part of my sleeve with a dagger, I pressed the linen against the wound, trying to ignore the terror at seeing red seep into the light fabric.

It’s shallow, practically a scratch. She’s fine.

Petra, however… Knowing that Dove was alright, I turned to the thief and slid two daggers into my hands.

She hardly paid us any mind though.

“This is from her,” she said, so desperately excited that I almost felt for her. Almost. How long had it been since Zephyra contacted her? Had she just been planted here months ago and left to rot? “She’s finally written.”

“Finally?” Stiv piped up, brow furrowed. “But Z sent us on this mission tonight. She must have coordinated with you… hang on—was that messenger owl I got tonight from Z actually from you?”

She ignored him, stepping toward the slitling. It watched her coldly, feathers rising.

“You impersonated Z to make this happen, to initiate the mission early? Are you mad?” Stiv near-whispered. “She’ll never let this go. Why couldn’t you just wait out your punishment here like she wanted?”

Eyes locked on the slitling, Petra said, “I refuse to spend one more week trapped in this place. I need out. And Z will forgive everything when I bring her what she wants. She will.”

Petra reached for the slitling’s leg pouch with frantic fingers, eyes gleaming. The bird let out a metallic squawk, making us all wince, as it slashed one great wing out swiftly. She stumbled back with a howl, clutching her cheek.