arranged. We’ll meet dawn tomorrow at the Ash Bridge.”
The place name sent a chill down my spine. I’d heard the stories about the Ash Bridge, even if I’d never been to it. I hoped our hostage exchange wouldn’t end as badly as some of the others that had taken place there. “Isn’t that pretty far from here?”
“I’ve arranged transportation,” said Arcturus. “The school rules forbid bringing non-students aside from one bodyguard onto campus, and I prefer not to antagonize any other factions at the moment, so I’ve kept my subordinates waiting just outside the school boundaries.”
He turned on his heel without another glance, heading out the door. “Keep up.”
My legs were still wobbly as I stood, but I gritted my teeth, steadying them with my recovering magic. We followed him into the night.
Chapter 26
The Nightfelds had a private jet. Of course they did.
I looked around as the four of us filed on board. The interior was open and surprisingly roomy, with lines of runes set into the floor, allowing the inside space to be subdivided with adjustable magical barriers. Arcturus’s vassals carried Cly and Aegis to the back, both of them bound in chains. Cly still struggled weakly, twisting to shoot us looks of hatred, while Aegis was limp and bloodied. My allies hadn’t held back in subduing him. I only knew he was alive because they wouldn’t have bothered to bring a corpse onto the plane.
But as angry as I was at Aegis, as sick as I was of his betrayals, I still had to fight the urge to run to him. My nails bit into my palms. My gaze trailed the two of them until magic barriers sprung up in between, cutting them off from my sight.
I turned away with a grimace. Arcturus sat at a table, flipping through a stack of records with his subordinates, compiling a master list of the artifacts and claims that they expected the Redbriars to deliver. From the grizzled, scarred old man going through the list of weapons, to the hard-faced Spellbreaker woman checking the numbers, they looked at him with respect, almost reverence. He, not his father Deneb, was the true head of House Nightfeld in every way that mattered.
Darshan sat on one of the leather sofas, long legs curled up underneath him, nose buried in the textbook he was studying. I felt a pang; he definitely had better things to do than to come along on this trip, but he’d chosen this anyway.
He looked up, surprised, when he felt my hand on his cheek.
“Don’t mind me,” I said. His remaining bruises melted away under my magic. “I won’t distract you.”
The plane took off with a rumble that abruptly dulled to silence with a few words from Arcturus. He’d finished with his papers, and was now laying out his magical gear on the table, in defiance of the process of takeoff. Not that I felt a single vibration; I could only tell the plane was gaining altitude from the dwindling city lights below the windows. He really knew how to throw around his magic.
Arcturus hadn’t held back in bringing weaponry, either. He set down a full neat row of swords, ranging from pitted, crude blades that looked like they’d come from the Bronze Age, to elegant lengths of etched carbon steel.
I looked closely at the enchantments engraved on them, and felt ill; while I couldn’t identify all the swords, many were Everblades, enchanted to leave wounds that were resistant to healing magic. I recognized the design from weapons I’d seen at Redbriar Manor.
I touched one of them, struggling not to recoil at the faintly greasy texture of the enchanted metal. “Do you—do you think they used one of these on my mom?” I forced out the words. “Do you think she can still be healed?”
Arcturus looked up. “I doubt the Redbriars would use an Everblade,” he said, his tone cool and detached. “I wouldn’t in their place. From a practical standpoint, it’s wasteful to permanently decrease the value of a hostage. From an emotional standpoint, it’s wasteful to limit oneself to dismembering someone only once.”
That was the most messed-up reassurance I’d ever heard. It was also authentic Great House logic. I had the horrifying notion that, quite possibly, Acubens was the normal one of the family—Arcturus was just better at hiding his taste for blood outside of the hunt.
Speak of the devil. I turned as Acubens came up to me, and I was startled to see uncertainty in his eyes. “Can