And what I had wasn’t a lot.
I picked up Amaya and cased her back into her sheath. Her song was a strand of anger that buzzed at the far reaches of consciousness. It was slightly stronger than before, but certainly no clearer. And right now, I was happy about that. I wasn’t sure I was ready to understand the language of a sword who relished death and destruction so much.
I strode out of the clearing. Many of the trees were still on fire but, oddly, the fire wasn’t spreading. Maybe whatever forces lived and breathed awareness—if not life—into this old ritual site were somehow containing the spread. Right now I was willing to believe just about anything, including a forest that was more than it seemed.
The gates were closed, but opened as I approached. A chill went through me. Far too aware, I thought, as I stepped through them.
Azriel was waiting on the other side. His gaze swept me, and a slight frown marred his otherwise impassive features. "You are injured."
Which was stating the obvious given I was still clutching my side and breathing as shallowly as I could. And hell, I could be just as obvious. "And you escaped the fields before the Raziq could grab you."
He either didn’t get the sarcasm in my voice or was ignoring it. I rather suspected the latter.
He said, "They were perted."
I blinked. "Diverted how?"
"The how does not matter, just the result. How is your side?"
I shrugged, annoyed that he wasn’t telling me how he escaped yet not entirely surprised. "I’ll survive. We need to find those keys."
He studied me for a moment, then nodded. "What clues did the book give?"
I told him what I’d read, and he shook his head. "That’s not much to go on."
"No. We need to sit down and try to work out the possibilities." I hesitated. "We’ll need Lucian’s help."
"There is no need—"