Reign of the Fallen (Reign of the Fallen #1)(50)

A harassed-looking maid flings open the door. Peering over her shoulder is Elibeth, barefoot and in her nightgown, her face soft with sleep. Her eyes go round at the sight of us, staring first at Jax and Simeon armed with knives and swords, then at me and the heavy chain coiled around my shoulder.

“Your sister’s in danger,” I say to Elibeth, and she and her maid step aside to let us in.

There’s no sign of Lyda as we follow Elibeth across the manor and down a flight of stairs to the cellar door, explaining all we know as we go. I can’t imagine how the baroness is sleeping through the commotion, unless she’s taking a potion to help her rest.

“Meredy shut Lysander in here before she left this afternoon.” Elibeth holds a torch aloft, bathing the cellar door in warm light. “She didn’t tell me where she was going. She never does. If I’d had any idea . . .” Her eyes shimmer. “She seemed fine when she left, though I did think it a bit odd she put Lysander away when he usually remains by her side.”

Simeon squeezes her shoulder and murmurs something soothing. He’s had years of practice, growing up as the only boy in a convent of Death’s often-brooding nuns.

“Don’t blame yourself, Elibeth.” I slide the chain off my shoulder, hoping we’ve looped the end into a collar wide enough to fit around the bear’s neck. “Meredy’s not exactly easy to talk to.” As Elibeth’s frown deepens, I hurry to add, “If there’s any chance of bringing her home, we will.”

As I reach for the cellar door, she calls, “Be careful! Lysander shares Meredy’s moods, like my hounds share mine. She says he’s never attacked anyone without her permission, but if he’s upset . . . there’s always a risk.” Her voice is hoarse as she adds, “I’d put the chain on him for you, but it’s better that you bond with him here and now before taking him to the Deadlands.”

I nod, taking a deep breath to brace myself for what’s waiting behind the door.

“It’s a good thing Master Cymbre’s not here,” Simeon mutters.

I shake my head, wishing we’d woken her after all. She’d probably have fetched the bear and found Meredy in half the time it’s taken us just to get here.

“She’d kill us before the Shades even had a chance,” Simeon adds. “Jax would be the first to go.”

Jax elbows him, and I choke back a laugh despite the hulking shadow rising up in front of me. If Evander were here, he’d be the one holding the chain, standing between me and the snarling bear.

“Lysander,” I call sweetly, slowly extending my free hand. I hope the cause of my sudden shaking has everything to do with the bear’s immense size and nothing to do with my need for another potion fix. There wasn’t time to go back for them once I remembered, halfway up the slope to Noble Park.

“He’s worried about Meredy,” Elibeth says tensely, reminding me that while she’s bonded to her hounds, her Sight shows her all animals’ emotions, including the bear’s. “And he’s confused. Give him a moment to get used to you.”

Jax and I exchange a look before I edge deeper into the cellar.

Scuffling footsteps behind me elicit a growl from Lysander that’s so deep, it shakes my bones. Jax puts a hand on my back, then lights a torch, revealing the bear’s open mouth and stained teeth glistening with drool inches from my face.

If this bear is semi-tame, I’d hate to meet one that’s truly wild.

My vision blurs at the corners. Peeking out from behind the bear, a Shade’s bony arm stretches toward me. Its fingers, all white bone and no flesh, caress the bear’s fur, taunting me. Daring me to make a fool of myself by drawing my sword and slicing at a creature no one else can see.

I squeeze my eyes shut, painfully aware of each of my five fingers still stretched in offering toward the bear. If there was ever a bad time to hallucinate, it’s now. I fix an image of the wounded peacock in my mind. The mangled feathers and the blood, hoping that somehow my guilt will be a talisman to ward off imaginary monsters.

“Sparrow. Look.” Jax’s voice is low and urgent.

I don’t need to open my eyes to know the bear is sniffing my fingers. Swallowing hard, I force my tongue to work. “Remember me, Lysander?” I croak. “We sort of met the other day. Your master Meredy is, uh, a friend of mine.”

I press my lips together to hold in a whimper as the bear’s hot breath warms my hand. I can’t believe I’m doing this, but it was my idea, so there’s no turning back.

“He’s calming down.” Elibeth sounds hopeful. “Keep talking!”

“Meredy’s in trouble,” I continue at last, trying to steady my voice. “We want to save her, but we could really use your help. You don’t want to lose her, surely.”

Lysander roars, splattering my face with bear spit.

There’s a whine as Jax draws his sword. And a muttered curse as he nearly loses his grip on the torch.

“Don’t!” Elibeth cries, chilling my blood.

“Jax, don’t,” I add through gritted teeth. “Put it away.” I wipe the bear spit off my face with my sleeve, my hands shaking. I think the bear is upset by what’s happening to his master, not about Jax and me intruding in his home. I stare straight into the bear’s amber-brown eyes as he tilts his head, sizing me up. “The Deadlands are vast. You can track Meredy for us, can’t you?”