If she stayed indoors behind all these shielding spells, they would soon be safe again. It was only for a couple of days.
But what about Sam?
She clenched her teeth and opened her eyes again, staring at the grain of the wooden door. “He’s safe for the time being,” she whispered, trying to reassure herself.
Come sunset, however . . .
She shook her head and softly cursed as she turned to face the room. Her gaze chanced upon the wyvern perched in the rafters over the table, its long tail dangling and twitching like a snake. It blinked big eyes at her and burbled softly. She made a face at it.
“I’m gonna have to wait until nightfall.” She spoke the words out loud as though to convince herself. “I’m gonna have to wait until I know he’s working on the Noswraith spell, when he won’t be spying out of windows at me. It’s the only way.”
Since coming to Roseward, she’d been outside of the lighthouse only once after sundown. On her first night. A night she could not recall without shudders of horror. The Thorn Maiden had come close to catching her in her briary snare.
Nelle set her jaw. She wasn’t so helpless now. She knew what she was up against. And she had powers of her own, however untrained they might be. Besides, while Soran worked the binding spell, the Thorn Maiden could only manifest in the realm of nightmares, couldn’t reach the waking world.
“So, you stay awake,” she said. “You stay awake, and you don’t let yourself be tricked this time. Then, once you find Sam, you get him down to the harbor and keep him awake too.”
If they stayed together and kept their heads down, they might be able to avoid the Thorn Maiden throughout the night.
And the next day? When Soran discovered she’d ventured out of the lighthouse? When he started asking questions she couldn’t answer?
She’d just have to deal with that when the time came.
It was a long, dismal day.
Around noon, the wyvern crawled down from its perch in the rafters and bullied Nelle into making it a meal. Though she grumbled through the entire process, she was grateful for something to do. She cooked up a pot of oatmeal, seasoning it with cinnamon until the aroma filled the whole dark chamber. She hoped the scent would rise to the tower above and lure Silveri back down.
But though she strained her ears for the sound of his footsteps above, he never stirred.
“Bullspit,” she growled and set the whole pot of oatmeal on the floor for the wyvern. When she pulled a chair to the wall and stood on tiptoe to peer through one of the high windows, she couldn’t see much. Just the dark expanse looming on the horizon.
How long would Roseward linger in proximity to the Kingdom of Night? Days? Weeks? Hours?
Too long. No matter what, too long.
“Bullspit,” With another deep sigh, Nelle sank down from the window to sit on the chair, leaning her back against the cold stone wall, and dully observed the wyvern, who was hard at work licking the copper pot clean with its long, nimble tongue. At first she found the sound annoying. But as it went on and on, she found herself lulled by the rhythmic scrape, scrape, scrape. Her head nodded, sank to her chest . . .
She woke with a start, blinking hard. How long ago had she nodded off? The wyvern, bloated from its feast, lay snoring on the hearth beside the mostly dead fire. It looked contented, while Nelle was chilled to the bone.
She sat up straight, twisting her neck back and forth. Then, groaning, she stood up on the chair and peered out the window again.
Her breath caught in her throat.
The darkness had closed in since last she’d looked. The harsh foreign shore loomed so near, the narrow channel couldn’t be much more than a mile wide, if that. The shadow of the Kingdom of Night swept across Roseward, blacking out the sun.
Would this darkness bring the Thorn Maiden out to prowl earlier than usual?
Was there still time to get to Sam?
Nelle sprang off the chair. Her knees shook so hard, they almost folded beneath her as she landed, but she braced herself and managed to remain upright. The wyvern started awake at her sudden movements and uncoiled from its ball of sleep, lifting its bleary-eyed head to growl at her. Nelle paid it no heed, rushing to the table where she’d dropped her satchel