Heir of the Dog Black Dog - Hailey Edwards Page 0,36

the visitor has been given the gift of recall, they forget the dragons after they leave, thus protecting their existence.”

I soaked in their ethereal beauty. “I will forget them.”

“For now.” His gaze went distant. “There is always later to consider.”

As the ogre’s hand swung past the landing pad, Raven asked, “Would you like a closer look?”

“No.” I turned my back on them. “That’s not why I’m here. I can’t play tourist with you.”

“Another time perhaps.” He called out to the ogre, “To the front gate.”

Gravity ceased to exist. The ogre lowered his hand so fast my feet left the ground, hair flew over my head. With sweaty palms, I clutched Raven’s arm. Unflustered by the free fall, he was my anchor.

Before the ogre’s knuckles brushed the pavers leading to the main gate, he slowed our descent. My knees buckled, and I sat down hard. He twisted his wrist and dropped us—dirt clod and all—onto the path. Still on my knees, I leaned forward on my hands and kissed the icy ground. While my churning gut settled, I braced my spinning forehead against the cold stones under my palms.

Raven took my arm and forced me to my feet. “It’s dangerous to show weakness here.”

I broke his grip. “I’m about to show what I had for lunch.”

“That would be unwise.”

“As unwise as wandering around this place with you?”

His face cracked into a smile. “As guides go, you could do worse.”

That circlet must be on too tight. This wasn’t a sightseeing tour or a vacation. This was a rescue mission. At least, that’s what I kept telling myself to stop dwelling on the part where I hadn’t exactly came here willingly either. Raven was the means through which my goals would be achieved.

Once the ink dried on the deals we were about to make, he would be my ticket home.

“We should get inside.” I stepped toward the door. “I don’t want to keep them waiting.”

Raven’s strides matched mine as we met the guards and gained entry. We were led through long halls that called Raven’s home to mind. Ornate fireplaces acted as centerpieces in every room we passed, warming the air to a bearable degree. Their fires lacked the friendly warmth of Raven’s. The dripping mantles and puddled hearths convinced me the fires were coaxed from wood and elbow grease, not the product of elemental magic.

More’s the pity. It was handy having a fire come when you called it.

“Wait here.” He eased in front of me. “I don’t want there to be any surprises.”

I nodded and stepped to one side.

When the door opened before us, he ducked inside a dimly lit room that smelled of rich incense. Myrrh undertones made my nasal passages itch.

Grateful for a moment alone, I straightened my clothing and smoothed my windblown hair with trembling fingers. I shoved all thoughts of dragons and ogres and elementals into the back of my mind.

When Raven returned, I was ready. One look at his formidable expression made me hesitate.

What had he gotten me into?

Chapter Twenty

Potent magic slithered over me, making my skin crawl as I entered the gloomy chamber. The enormous room was empty. Nothing decorated the space except for the massive tapestries depicting winter scenes. Straight ahead of us, built into the ice-block wall, was a low balcony. Two identical mirrors, both longer than I was tall, were tacked onto the wall behind the railing, and two matching chairs sat before them.

A path lined with flickering candles led us through the shadowy expanse to a small circle scraped into the frozen floor. Raven stepped inside it without hesitation. I did not. Circles were common symbols used by witches and other magic practitioners as a safety net while casting complex or dangerous spells.

Fae blood ran with magic. They needed visual aids as much as I needed an instruction manual on breathing. I waited, expecting Raven to offer an explanation, but he stared straight ahead with cold determination.

I followed his gaze. Two grotesque fae had materialized on the balcony and now sat in the chairs. Their bodies were humanoid, but their heads were...wrong. One eye the size of a basketball rose from the fleshy stumps of their necks. One had a red iris, the other’s was blue.

“No harm will come to you here, child.”

The baritone voice beat at me from all sides.

I turned a slow circle. “Who are you, and what right do you have to make such promises?”

Around us thunderous laughter boomed. A burly man limned in green light strode toward us,