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Pinky at the ready, Marita stuck out her hand. “Promise?”
“Promise.” I hooked my finger around hers and then Derry’s. “You’ll both get to be light as feathers.”
“I can handle the stiff as a board part on my own,” he whispered to a giggling Marita.
“Rue, come this way.” Blay waved us on, grinning when Colby landed on his head. “Blay smell magic.”
Happy to lead the way, we let him play guide across the rocky terrain. Every so often, we paused for him to reorient himself, and I seized the opportunity to scan above us and ahead of us for signs of any traps.
We couldn’t very well save the day if we got stuck the same as Dad.
“His nose is better than mine,” Derry lamented an hour later. “I don’t smell a thing.”
“He got firsthand exposure.” Marita patted his shoulder. “That’s why he can trace it.”
“I don’t get it.” Derry wouldn’t let it go. “It should have settled on the ground by now.”
I was betting the spell snared Dad, held him aloft, and never let his feet touch down. I was also willing to bet a secondary spell had been cast to prevent anyone walking under it from noticing it had been there.
“There’s some weird divide.” I joined in to soothe his ego. “Magic is to blame, not your nose.”
“Makes sense to come at him from the air.” Derry tipped his head back. “Your dad is an excellent flier.”
The wing spell was a true work of art, which was why the director had bartered my promotion to deputy director in exchange for it. His envy of Dad’s talents knew no bounds, making it more ironic that our current strife with LucaandCalixta had been born from his desire to cement his legacy with a child of his bloodline. Only to discover he was unable to parent without a jealous heart.
All the heartaches, the betrayals, the children who never lived to inevitably disappoint him, had been for nothing.
“What’s that?” Derry, his vision sharper than mine, picked up his pace. “Is that…?”
Several yards away, a heap of clothing lay crumpled like a wad of paper that missed the wastebasket.
“Dad.”I left them behind and ran straight for him. “Hold on. I’m coming. Just hold on.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Ismacked into a clear barrier as hard as glass, bounced off it, and landed on my butt. Reaching out, I had a second to feel my way up the smooth edges of the containment spell before it hit me I was alone. I got to my feet, turned back the way I had come, and found Marita and Derry collapsed near where they first spotted Dad. Blay was curled on his side in the dirt not far from them, and Colby drooped in his hair.
As soon as I had ranged ahead of them, a spell must have caught them.
That couldn’t be a coincidence.
“You killed Bjorn Johansen.”
Glancing over my shoulder, I watched as the air beside Dad rippled like a fingertip poking a calm pond, and a familiar strawberry blonde emerged from behind an illusion spell so seamless I had to admire it.
Luca.
Reality shivered a second time, and the director joined her. He wore his company suit, leaned his weight on his cane, and stared off into the middle distance. His expression was serene, and that peaceful façade sat wrong on his features. The man wasnever happy, never content. He was always grasping, plotting, reaching formore, more, more. More power, more influence, more control.
“I did.” I got chills when the director didn’t so much as blink. “I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t dreamed of it for years.”
Luca bobbed a shoulder, as if to say fair is fair, but the director appeared to be off in his own little world.
“Do you know how many decades it took me to win Bjorn to my cause?”
A lick of ice swept down my spine, casting refracted images that showed me the last few months in a different light.
“Bjorn worked for you?” I couldn’t believe it. “Bjorn?Frost giant with an icicle up his butt? That Bjorn?”
