[THIS STORY WILL BE TAKEN DOWN ON SEPTEMBER 30, 2024]
He had hunted me, captured me, and locked me in a tower.
Season 3 'Of Crows and Thorns'
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While in RISING, Tabitha discovers something peculiar that may assist Nelle in her plan to escape the...
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Waves of tousled hair were swept back from Master Sirro's forehead and cunning, golden eyes were framed by thick, black lashes. Burnt yellow light curved over his sharp jawline and short, neat beard, burnishing his deep copper skin into a richer hue as he strode deeper into the area.
Master Sirro wasn't alone either.
His personal assistant, Sarnia Reska, clipped along the rooftop in his wake. She looked professional, yet had dressed lightly for the Emporium's sweltering climate in a long skirt with a sage, silk blouse. A large tote bag was hooked over her shoulder. She held a phone to one ear, frowning as she listened, murmuring something in return before she ended the call and slipped the phone into her bag.
Sirro's Familiar trailed behind him. Her white kaftan billowed behind her, rippling like a loose sail with her dreamy stroll. A riotous tangle of silvery threads wavered through the air, connecting them both. Energy brightened the strands as her life force arrowed down the lines of power straight to the Horned God.
I blinked, startled.
She was new.
His last Familiar, the old crone I'd seen him with the weekend of Evvie's engagement, had obviously died. Master Sirro had leached the last of her life from her and she'd been replaced. I glanced sideways to stare through the corner of my eye, checking my truesight. This one hadn't been glamoured to look younger. She seemed to be the age she looked. 25. Youthful. Beautiful. But for how much longer? When would the first wrinkle appear? With Master Sirro stealing her life force, she'd age faster and die sooner.
There was no time to think further about her fate because there was one other creature that accompanied Master Sirro.
Whomever she was, because there was a feminine and delicate bone structure to the human arm looped around the crook of his elbow, clung tightly to Master Sirro as he escorted her into our midst like a gentleman. She was hidden beneath layers of antique lace, gone yellow like steeped tea, the threads frayed by time.
I had no doubt that this was Mrysst.
Mrysst was one of Jurgana's sisters. She was a witch, a Horned God whose power resided in spells. Mrysst and her sisters dwelled within the Hemmlok Forest. My father had once described her to me as extremely shy. She was partially elemental and transformed herself into a mist so she could float above the earth to feed off moonlight. As Florin had reminded me earlier, not every Horned God ate people.
The Houses parted like a receding tide. They drew aside and swept to one knee, allowing Master Sirro to pass through while they bowed before him. All the Crowthers did too. It was the only thing that pleased me, seeing them lowered and subservient.
As my status dictated—a princess of the Great House—I did not bow.
Besides myself, there was only one other person who stood, though he bowed formally, a dip at the waist, but not as reverently as bending the knee. Zielenski. I suspected he was excluded as it would be rather tiresome to have to sweep to one knee every time a Horned God entered his establishment.
