“Thanks,” Josef said, sitting down to tug his boots on over his new socks. “Where’s Adela?”
The man had already returned to his corner. “I’m not sure of the princess’s whereabouts, sir,” he said, wringing his hands. “I can send someone to find her, if you desire.”
“No,” Josef said, standing up. Best not to let Adela know he was looking for her before he knew what role she played in this. First, he had to find Eli. If the thief was good for anything, it was rooting out trouble.
He went back to the bedroom and grabbed the rest of his knives, slinging them into place as he walked into the sitting room. His frown tightened into a solid grimace at the bright, midday sunlight streaming through the narrow window. Not only had he slept soundly, he’d slept late.
“Worse and worse,” he muttered, grabbing the Heart of War from the fireplace where he’d left it the night before. He slid the enormous sword over his shoulders and onto its spot on his back. When the blade was secure, he stomped toward the door that led to the rest of the castle. He stopped when he reached it, looking over his shoulder at the servant who was still clutching the dressing room door, trembling like a kicked dog.
“Sorry, again,” Josef said, struggling to think of the appropriate action for cases like this. “You can, um, have the rest of the day off.”
The servant just stared at him blankly as Josef slipped out of the prince’s chamber and started jogging through the halls toward Eli’s room.
Eli’s door was partially open when he reached it. Josef stopped, eyeing it suspiciously. He couldn’t see any outward signs of trouble, but he checked his blades anyway, easing the knives down in his sleeves in case he needed them. When he was satisfied he could get any weapon he needed in a moment’s notice, he stepped inside.
He stopped again almost immediately. The room was a disaster. There were piles of junk everywhere—furniture, produce, paper goods, candles, silverware, weapons, tapestries, building tools, a pile of locks, and the other things he couldn’t see enough of to name. It was all piled around the room as though it had been thrown there, and sitting in the middle, perched on the rubbish like the king and queen of trash, were Eli and Nico. Judging by the dark circles under their eyes, they’d been up all night, but doing what he couldn’t even begin to say. Neither of them seemed to have heard him enter. Instead, they were both staring at what looked to be the carved wooden end of the banister from the grand staircase in the castle’s front hall.
“All right,” Eli said, hefting the carved wooden hunk in his hands. “Closer to the door or the chess piece?”
“Neither,” Nico said, scowling. “It looks almost fuzzy.”
“Fuzzy,” Eli muttered, scribbling on a piece of paper so covered with similar scribbles it was almost entirely black. “Interesting. Fuzzy like the fork or fuzzy like—”
“What is going on?” Josef roared.
They both jumped and looked at Josef, eyes wide with surprise.
“Good morning,” Eli said.
“Don’t ‘good morning’ me,” Josef said, kicking the junk aside until he’d made enough space to close the door. “Did you rob a dump? What is all this garbage?”
“Not garbage,” Eli said. “Experiments.” When Josef gave him a skeptical look, he clarified. “Wizard stuff, as you would say.”
“You know what?” Josef said. “I don’t even want to know. All I care about is where you’ve been.”
This last bit was leveled at Nico, and she flinched appropriately.
“Doesn’t matter,” she said quietly. “I’m here now.”
“Doesn’t matter?” Josef was surprised at his own anger. “Doesn’t matter? Of course it matters! Do you even know how… how…”
“Worried?” Eli supplied.
“You keep out of this,” Josef snapped. Eli held up his hands, and Josef locked his eyes back on Nico. “I didn’t even know where you were! How can we be a team when you’re not here?”
“I’m sorry,” Nico said, fiddling with her coat. “It’s done now, anyway. Won’t happen again.”
Josef clenched his fists. She wasn’t giving him an answer, but he didn’t know if he was ready to press for one. He was fighting battles on all fronts right now, and forcing Nico to tell him the truth would open up another. A close, dangerous fight that he wasn’t sure he could win. Worse, he was still mad, furiously mad, though he couldn’t say exactly what he was mad at. But he couldn’t deal with this now. He needed his wits about him, so he took a deep swordsman’s breath and made himself let it go.