When I burst into the castle, I march down the foyer until I’ve reached my office. Maeve and Juniper are pulling down books from the shelves and carrying them to one of the tables where loose sheets of paperwork are. Nikita and Tallulah are squatting next to Willow as she sits in the chair behind my desk, both of them stroking her arm or back and trying to sooth her.
“Nikita, Tallulah. Find your husbands and get out of here,” I command, and they cut their eyes to me before focusing on each other.
“Of course, Monarch Harlow,” they reply in unison. They were never supposed to be in here. I’ve never liked others in my castle, but tonight was different. Everyone was having fun, and I’m certain having tea was Maeve’s idea. I can’t fault her for wanting to switch up the pace, show off the castle a bit. But this is what happens when we lower our guards too much. Someone is always around, ready to pierce our hearts.
“Please let us know if we can help with anything,” Tallulah says to Willow. When they’re gone, I lower to a squat next to Willow and collect her hand in mine, but she doesn’t look at me. Instead, she remains focused on the top of my desk—not at anything specific, but more like she’s in a trance.
“Willow?” I call, squeezing her hand, and her eyes finally drop to mine.
“Caz,” she breathes, and her eyes glisten. “I don’t understand what’s happening. What has she done with my brother?”
“What did she say to you?” I ask.
“She said to find her at the location on the paper. That she knows where Warren is.”
I peer over my shoulder as Killian and Rowan stand near the opening of the office, watching Maeve and Juniper pull down several more books.
Releasing Willow’s hand, I drop a kiss on her forehead then move across the room to Maeve.
“I am so sorry, Caspian. I thought she could be trusted. The girls wanted tea, and I figured it would be easier to just make it in the kitchen, and that woman who threatened Willow offered to prepare it—”
“It’s fine, Maeve. She’s safe.” I zero in on the book in her hand. “What are you looking for?”
“These coordinates,” she answers, and she hands a crumpled sheet of paper to me. I open it.
N 36, 22
L 80, 33
“What is the L for?” I ask. “I’ve never seen that.”
“That’s what we’re looking for. It’s not on the Vakeeli maps.” Maeve props a book open, skimming through the table of contents. When she doesn’t find what she’s looking for, she passes the book to Rowan, who takes it and puts it back on the shelf. She and Juniper do this for quite some time while I study the coordinates with a frown.
“Found it!” Juniper shouts, pointing a finger on the book.
“‘There are four major cardinal directions of Vakeeli—north, south, east, and west, but there is one direction on the map that has not been studied; however, it does exist. This direction is called the Limit,’” Juniper reads aloud. “‘The Limit exists beyond the outskirts of Vakeeli, a territory that has not been properly analyzed because of its high levels of toxicity and violence.’” Juniper’s throat bobs as her eyes lift to mine. “The Trench.”
