But then again, maybe Lethe’s father wouldn’t even be available to see him. Maybe Lethe was already stalking back down the hallway now.
First, I tried to communicate the simple phrase I love you, by pointing to my eye, then my heart, and then Theon, twinkling back at me in the crystal shard. We’d barely said it yet, but it seemed appropriate to remind him of my affection.
Then I motioned, I’m in the castle. I pointed to my eye again, then slid one hand into the other, and then pantomimed a steeple with my fingers.
Next, I leveled one palm and notched upward three times, hoping to relay to him, On the third floor. I wasn’t even positive that it was true, but it was what I had thought I’d noticed when Lethe had been leading me, blindfolded, back into this room.
I shrugged pointedly, to show him that this was a question, and then jabbed a finger toward Michelle. Why is she with you?
Michelle must have recognized the intent of the question even if Theon didn’t, because while he was frowning thoughtfully, she sprang forward, gesturing.
Behind me the door flew open, and my fingers flexed with shock, sending the gleaming shard tumbling to the ground again. I leapt to my feet and whirled, hoping that Lethe had failed to notice the item over which I’d been hunched.
He froze where he stood, the door still hanging open behind him, and stared at me with eyes of a different blue than I had ever seen. They were not hard and cold, as they had first been. They were not warm and deep, as they had later been. They were… fragile.
He stared at me like he couldn’t believe me.
“It was you,” he whispered, shaking his head. “You took the pendant.”
My gaze drifted down to his tunic, opened where the pendant had once hung. He’d noticed that it was gone.
“Lethe,” I said, trying to think quickly, “it was—it was an accident—I—”
Lethe stormed forward and gripped my shoulders, giving me a shake. My head snapped back and forth. “There are no accidents,” he seethed, thrusting me to the side. My heel caught in the edge of my petticoats and sent me tumbling to my side.
I propped myself onto my elbow and Lethe leaned down and scooped the pendant from the floor, examining its soft light.
No. He knew… and the pendant was still active. He could see Theon. He might even be able to deduce where in this city Theon was.
The shard of crystal went dark, and I feared for Theon—but Lethe only closed his fist over the pendant and glared down at me.
“I will send the guards into the streets,” he promised. “They can smell fire dragon stink from the skies.”
Nell
Lethe swept from the room, locking it behind him. This time, I didn’t bother to fling myself against the wood; I didn’t bother to scream, cry, or beg. I knew that it would do nothing to help me. All I could do now… was wait.
I went to the window and watched as a team of guards were dispatched—in dragon form—from the castle, into the skies and the streets, in their hunt for Theon and, inexplicably, Michelle. The moonlight throwing itself down onto the crisp white snow illuminated the entire city. It would have been beautiful, if things weren’t so hopeless. As it was, the beauty of the city only registered as bleak and solitary.
I wished suddenly for my mother. For Dad. Anyone…
The sound of a key turning in the lock wrenched me from the window. Lethe stood in the doorway, disheveled, vengeful, and cold. Everything about him emanated the winter world outside this window.
“I have sent the guard,” he informed me.
“Lethe,” I pleaded, treading forward, into the room. “Please—”
“Please, she says,” Lethe snarled.
“Please don’t punish Theon for my mistake! I’m sorry!”
“Of course you’re sorry. Everyone is sorry.”
“You don’t understand. I just—I was desperate, I—You kidnapped me, Lethe! I don’t live here!” I knew that this was a weak defense. What I’d done was wrong.
“You are more akin to the ice people than you know,” Lethe informed me, his eyes a dark winter’s storm. He strode forward, but halted before he reached me, looming in the doorway. “We, too, are ruthless. We, too, are utilitarian and concerned solely with logic.” I could see the eddies of snow reflected in his eyes. “We care not for the fragility of a heart.”
Dammit, I felt guilty now more than ever.
“Lethe, I’m sorry. I didn’t know—I didn’t think—” I didn’t know what to say.
“Oh, are you sorry, my lady? Do you feel that, perhaps, I was wounded by your minor and pointless betrayal? The betrayal which, in truth, tipped Theon’s hand?” Lethe stepped closer, now peering down at me. “You need not apologize, my would-be queen… for I am as innately composed of ice as you are,” he hissed. His hand plunged into the hair at the nape of my neck, clutching it in his fist. I winced, my neck stretched for him.