"Warwick's gone," I muttered to Elise as soon as the guards' voices faded outside the door. "Overheard them this morning. Calista's running things while he's away. Sounds like Rhys might finally be closing in."
Elise nodded but didn't look relieved. "That's good, right?"
"Depends how fast he moves."
Calista came for us in the afternoon.
"Both of you. It's time," she said from the doorway, beads clicking as she moved.
I pushed myself up from the cot, jaw already tight. Elise stood beside me, looking uneasy. We followed Calista down the hall without much choice. She led us back to the same room where we'd done that smoke communion before, but they'd changed it.
A flat stone altar sat in the center with dark powder piled on it—burned roots ground down fine. The air already smelled thick and alarmingly sweet. Against the far wall was a large bed that definitely wasn't there last time.
Calista shut the heavy door behind us with a solid thud.
