Rise of the Gryphon (Belador #4)(94)

Hotel room. That would have to be Quinn’s, which would mean she’d have to steal . . . “A warded Triquetra? Are you nuts?”

“So you admit failure before trying.”

“No, I’m admitting nothing, just thinking out loud.” And coming to grips with the idea of leaving evidence of betraying Quinn. His Triquetras were custom-made in a secret location, especially the warded one he used for personal security. “How would I get inside his room?”

“I can get you in there.”

Evalle walked off a moment, arms hugged around herself as she tried to hold off a chill that had nothing to do with temperature. It was one thing to be thought a traitor and another to be proven one. She hoped he’d give her a chance to explain if she survived . . . if the Beladors didn’t kill her in the attack on Treoir.

What was she thinking? Everything would change after this battle.

Regardless of whether the Medb won or lost, how could Evalle ever go home if the gryphons attacked Treoir? Anyone with a brain would quickly figure out the Medb had turned Alterants into gryphons. That meant she couldn’t waste this one chance to return to Atlanta.

She had to explain to Storm so he wouldn’t hate her. Worse, he’d be hurt. She couldn’t live the rest of her life with that on her conscience. “I’ll go, I’ll bring back the Triquetra and I’ll convince Flaevynn I’m on her team.”

“About time.”

“Speaking of that, I’m not going unless you give me some extra time there.”

“How long?”

“Six hours.”

“I can’t give you that much. The attack is—” Kizira grabbed her throat and coughed, struggling to breathe.

So that’s what happened when you tried to go against being compelled? “Oops.”

Icicles should be hanging off Kizira’s chilling glare. She rubbed her throat. “I can give you four hours.”

That would have to suffice, but Evalle now had a time frame for the attack. She had to get going. “Okay. Now, what idea did I give you a minute ago?”

“You said to tell you something I wasn’t forbidden to say. First, understand that you will be compelled to not speak to anyone about your time here or the attack. You’ll be compelled to tell no one about Alterants changing into gryphons or that you have evolved into one. You just saw what happened when I almost made that mistake.”

“I need to know what I can say.”

Kizira pinched the bridge of her nose, then lowered her hand. “Pay attention and curb your sarcasm. I will not compel you to share your deepest wishes.”

What did that mean? “What deepest wishes?”

Kizira’s shoulders eased with relief. “For example, I will not compel you to tell someone not aligned with the coalition that it would make you happy if your two closest friends were to spend the next twelve hours watching over Atlanta instead of traveling to faraway places.”

Evalle sorted through Kizira’s cryptic suggestions and realized the Medb priestess wanted her to warn Quinn and Tzader away from Treoir. “You think I would intentionally undermine Belador defenses?”

Kizira lost her fleeting look of hope and snarled, “Can’t you figure out the simplest puzzle? Do you even care about anything besides how this affects you?” Calming herself, she pleaded, “Think, Evalle. This is a game where we both stand to lose people we care about.”

That backed Evalle up a step mentally. She replayed their conversation. This was about protecting Quinn more than anything. “You really care about—”

“Him,” Kizira said quickly, her eyes glancing around as if in fear.

“Thought this place was secure.”

“It is, but I never risk his name.”

Evalle couldn’t pin down how she felt about seeing this side of Kizira. “What’s the deal between you two?”

“I don’t wish to discuss this further, especially if you aren’t going to do your part.”

“Oh, I’ll play the game now that I understand how to manipulate the words.”

“Not that I’m hearing.” Looking away, Kizira whispered with desperation, “He has no one to protect him.”

A guilty weight had pressed on Evalle’s chest for weeks about Quinn. If Flaevynn did not know about Quinn, then it seemed logical that Kizira could solve an internal conflict Evalle was tired of wrestling with. “Tell me something. Speaking of him, did he or did he not tell you how to find me when I was with Tristan in the Maze of Death a couple of weeks back?”

That startled Kizira, drawing her gaze back. “Yes, but involuntarily. I withdrew the information from him while he was incoherent. You want to know if he’s still your friend. He’s done nothing to betray you. Anything you’ve heard, especially the day Tristan took you to the house in the country, is a twisted tale to turn you against him.”

Evalle believed Kizira. The weight lifted a little, allowing her heart to thump with peace again. And, if what Kizira said was true, Tristan had been tricked as well. He’d taken Evalle to meet an old Belador so pitiful he’d needed an oxygen tank to breathe.

Had that old guy been the traitor instead of Conlan O’Meary, who was still on the run? “Speaking of that day with Tristan, where’s the old Belador who told me those twisted tales?”