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Idonea drew her cloak tighter and waited for the right moment. The sentries turned, speaking to one another. She darted low across the ground, boots barely audible.
Her hand trembled as she lifted the latch and the door gave with a soft creak. Inside, the air was warmer, tinged with the light scent of herbs.
She shut the door and leaned against it, letting the weight of the day press into her spine. Her eyes squeezed shut. Just one breath. One moment of stillness. Before everything collapses again.
A soft nudge at her ribs snapped her from the fragile quiet.
Her eyes flew open. Lance was beside her, coils shifting restlessly on the floorboards. He shouldn’t have followed her into the cottage. There was no Current here. Did he risk himself just to stay near me? Fool creature. Loyal creature.
She gave him a once-over, pulse quickening. No visible signs of strain. No tremor in his wings.
Then he nudged her again, harder this time.
“What?” she said.
Lance hissed low in his throat and spat two objects onto the floorboards, the sound sharp in the quiet cottage.
Idonea blinked, then her eyes widened.
She crouched, breath hitching as she reached towards them. Nellith’s ring lay twisted in the thin layer of dust, unmistakable. But beside it, sat something far worse.
A golden earring inlaid with garnet: an earring Nellith wore every day.
Idonea swallowed hard and gathered the pieces with trembling fingers. They were cold. Too cold. She wouldn’t drop these. Not unless she was—no. Don’t go there.
“You found her?” Her voice came out strained. She forced herself to meet Lance’s eyes fully.
He bobbed his head in a jerky nod and hissed once.
“Is she close?”
Another nod, followed immediately by a sharp shake of his head.
“So she is,” Idonea said, “but … isn’t?”
Lance’s wings flared outward, then tucked back in; his version of a helpless shrug. Idonea let out a long breath. Wonderful. Cryptic riddles from a creature who communicates in hisses and head-bobs. Completely useless.
“We will save her,” she said, though the promise sat heavy and terrifying in her chest.
Lance flicked his tongue out, tasting the air, and then darted towards the bedroom in a blur of onyx scales.
Idonea’s stomach twisted. If the Templars burst into the cottage, they'd spot him instantly. And they would drag him off. Or worse.
She clenched Nellith’s jewellery in her fist. She couldn’t let that happen, not to Lance.
Who knew what the Grand Templar would do?
Idonea pushed the table aside and tried the trap door once more, but to no avail. It was still locked tight.
“Lance,” she called.
A low hiss came from the bedroom.
“Lance, now,” she said again.
He darted into the room, wings flaring.
Idonea gestured down at the trap door. “We need this opened.”
