All That Glows

Twenty

My search for Breena doesn’t take long. I feel her familiar aura even through the city’s electrical haze. Anabelle’s in a tiny, upscale restaurant: the type that needs a reservation months in advance. The type with polished hardwood, pure silver utensils, and antique furniture so aged it looks like it might fall apart under the slightest weight.

Being invisible in a restaurant is an interesting challenge. Servers and hosts zip past, balancing trays of well-dressed plates and cocktails. I cling close to the wall, following Breena’s aura like a bat tracing echoes: up the crimped, narrow stairway and behind a door of lushly cobalt curtains. I find her in the princess’s private dining room. The table is ringed with Anabelle’s school friends: blondes, brunettes, diamonds, and pearls. I look down the row, remember the loneliness in Richard’s voice as he spoke of friendship. It’s rarity. How many of these girls would stand by Anabelle if they knew what was coming?

Breena stands by the window, taking in the same scene, face half masked by a potted-palm frond. “Emrys! What are you doing here? Where’s Richard?”

“I left him with Ferrin and Helene. Listen, I need to talk to you.” I edge close to the windowsill. Outside in the darkness someone passes on the far sidewalk. For the faintest second, I imagine it’s a Banshee.

“I haven’t told anyone, if that’s what you’re asking,” Breena chips in. There’s a new edge to her voice; it makes me uneasy.

“That’s not it,” I reply. “Not at all, actually.”

I take a deep breath. Including Breena in my plans is risky. I have no guarantee she won’t report back to Mab or try to use her age to order me into submission. But without Breena, the plan is even riskier. I could end up dead. Trusting our friendship is my only choice.

“I need your help.”

She brushes the palm frond away, caressing its fan with her fingers. “With what?”

“I think I know how we can end this—get to the bottom of the threat. I tracked down a Black Dog. It gave me the names of soul feeders who are in contact with the Old One. We can hunt them down for information.”

Breena’s hand freezes, splayed in the exact silhouette of the plant she’s touching. “You went hunting? On whose orders?”

“It was my decision,” I tell her. “I’m sick of waiting on Mab’s scouts. The trail to the Old One is here, in the city. You know that.”

“Does Mab know what you’ve done?” The dining room’s light is warm, reflecting off rich wood and gold-threaded wallpaper. It falls on Breena’s face, calls her out from the darkness like a Rembrandt painting.

“She encouraged me to investigate.” My stomach twists under the half-truth. Mab would be appalled at my proactive methods: hunting down the enemy instead of waiting patiently for the evidence to surface on its own. So many weeks ago, when I was wholly hers, I would never have considered this.

“And what are their names? The ones you want to hunt?”

“Jaida and Cari. One is a Green Woman and the other a Banshee. That’s all I know. Apparently they relay the Old One’s instructions to the other soul feeders here in the city. They’re the link, Bree. They can lead us to her.” My speech gains speed. The thought of exposing the Old One is enough to make me giddy.

Across the room the princess laughs. The sound jolts, cuts through the air like a battle-worn bagpipe. For the briefest second, I have the sensation that everyone in the room can see me. I glance over my shoulder, but none of the diners even look up from their watercress salads.

“I don’t know. . . .” Breena begins. “It sounds awfully risky, not to mention impossible. Who knows how many Banshees and Green Women are crawling through this city? And if we do find them and manage to make them talk, then what? Do we kill them?”

“We’ll figure something out. . . . Wipe their memories or gag them.” I shrug, trying to dismiss these problems I hadn’t thought all the way through.

“And if their magic is too strong for that?” Worry grays Breena’s face. “We could both end up dead, Emrys. Then where would Richard be? I know you’re eager to protect him, but we have to think of all the ramifications, all of the consequences. You haven’t been thinking clearly—you’re riding on your emotions.”

I don’t try to argue. I know better than anyone that emotion . . . love . . . is pushing me into this hunt. “We have the element of surprise. That gives us something.”

“And I suppose if I say no, you’re going to go off and do it yourself anyway?” Breena says with a roll of her eyes.

I nod.

“Of course,” she mutters.

“Please, Bree. I need this.”

“Well, it has been a while since I’ve gotten into a brawl. . . . Fine.” She sighs, as if some heavy weight is sliding off her back. “I’ll go with you. But only because I don’t want you getting yourself unmade in some filthy, rat-strung alley.”

“Oh! Thank you!” I throw my arms around her, an action she clearly isn’t expecting. She stands awkward in my embrace, her own arms dangling at her side like limp fish.

“We should do some reconnaissance first. I don’t want to go plunging into a situation,” Breena says once I let go. The stiffness of her voice reminds me of just how human my embrace was. “And we’re out when I say so. Understand?”

I let the last statement glide over, try not to think about what could happen. “We’ll go the night after Richard’s birthday. That’ll give you time to order a replacement Guard for Anabelle.”

She nods, but I see the apprehension behind her tundra-washed eyes.

“We’ll be careful,” I tell her. “I promise.”