Windburn Page 27

“He knows he’s already lost you to Ash, and so he is going to make it easy on you.”

I came to a complete and total stop. My heart thumped wildly against my chest. No, no, no. I did not want to believe she was right, but . . . it was something Cactus would do. He’d taken pain for me before, when we were children and had gotten in trouble together. The strap had fallen on him, not me.

I closed my eyes and tried to slow the beating of my heart. Cactus stopped a few feet behind me. I slowly turned to him.

“Are you trying to make me angry with you? Trying to drive me away?”

His eyes never left mine. “I want you to be happy, Lark. I love you enough to lose you if it means you will be happy.”

Damn him. My lower jaw trembled. “I cannot focus on this while we are trying to save my father. We can discuss this later, but I need to know if I can depend on you or not.”

He stepped forward and took one of my hands, raising it so he could kiss the underside of my wrist. “I am always here for you. I’m sorry, I . . . I could see the guilt in you, and I didn’t want to make it worse.”

I let him pull me into his arms. Slowly I dropped my head to his shoulder. “I can’t choose, Cactus. Don’t make me.”

“One day you’ll have to.” He kissed the side of my head.

“Enough. We have to go,” Peta said, her voice sharp.

I stepped away, my hands lingering in his. “You almost got me killed.”

“Nah, you handled it fine. I knew you would.” He patted at a few charred spots on my vest as he winked at me. I could admit I was relieved even while I was exasperated.

He reached around me and tapped the hard-backed book I’d taken. “Let’s see what we’ve got, then.”

Taking the book out, I held it in front of me. The title was Africa in Pictures. I flipped it open and grimaced as the scent of troll shit wafted up. “Disgusting creatures. I can’t understand who thought they were a good idea.”

“Some witch on a power trip,” Peta muttered.

Figured.

The pictures were bright and vibrant, stark and desolate all at once. I’d never been to Africa, though there were parts of it I knew would call to me. The deep jungles, the grasslands filled with animals, the mountains where the earth stretched to reach the sky.

I turned the page and a bloody fingerprint stopped me. The same as the one on the glass, it had been smeared a little over the blue water. Sand dunes stretched out into the ocean, triangular and shaped very much like dragon’s heads. “There. That’s where she is.”

“Are you sure?” Cactus leaned over my shoulder, his body brushing against mine enough to make me forget for a moment what I was going to say.

Peta cleared her throat. “Head in the game, Lark.”

Mentally I shook myself. “Yes, I’m sure. This is her fingerprint.”

“Could be a trap.”

“Not for us. If anything, she was trying to draw someone else.”

From my shoulder, Peta nodded. “I agree. Trackers are smart, tricky beggars. Giselle said someone else was looking for her; maybe she’s leading them on.”

With a quick tear, I ripped the page out of the book and folded it up. “The sand dunes are huge. We need to get above them to find her fast.”

“How are we going to do that?” Cactus asked. “It’s breeding season for dragons, which will make them next to useless. No Sylph will give us the time of day. And I wouldn’t trust a Harpy further than I could throw her.”

I situated myself, finding east easily. The sense of where the sun would rise was bred into me as surely as the power of the earth and the power of Spirit. “Peta, what do you think?”

“I think you need your second familiar. A winged creature big enough to carry you would be helpful. That being if I could choose your second.” She tipped her head to one side.

“A dragon?” Cactus’s tone was hopeful even though he’d just disparaged the big lizards.

“No. They only bond with demon slayers. Something else. Hmmm.” She went quiet and I kept moving. Regardless of what she said, we needed to get across the channel to the continent. Once there, we could find a way to get airborne. There were several supernatural creatures we could reach out to. Harpies, though tough, could be reasoned with for a price. There were several clutches of griffins who resided there as well.

But I had a feeling that whatever Peta came up with, it would not be—

“The Bastard. He’s our best shot, I think.”

Cactus let out a laugh. “You’re kidding, right? Isn’t he in Greece?”

Peta bobbed her head. “Yes, I’ve met him before, though it was a long time ago. I think he will remember me and I could convince him to help us. We have to go almost that far anyway. Unless you want to convince a human to take you up in one of their whirly bird things.”

Nausea rolled through me at the simple thought of trusting my life to a human contraption. “No, we’ll go to The Bastard. If you’re sure.”

“The only choice we have, I think,” Peta said, “and until you get your second familiar, maybe we can convince him to help us. He is a bit of a glutton, so a food reward would work. Or the offer of some attractive ladies.”

I grimaced. I’d heard The Bastard was difficult . . . one of those few creatures who was truly alone in the world since he was a creation, not a natural occurrence. Even the Trolls got to breed and have babies. The Bastard, not so much.

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