I gaped at him, unable to find the words to aptly encompass my tumultuous feelings.
“Did this person—your friend—happen to see the Heir? Maybe they could tell us what she looks like?”
Casimir shook his head. “Scrying doesn’t work like that. You can’t pick and choose glimpses of the future.”
I snorted, still utterly irritated that he had concealed this secret from me. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Casimir’s fingers twitch toward the pocket of his jacket, the one that held his gold cigarette case.
“I’m surprised you actually stuck to your promise,” I said, gesturing toward his pocket. “It would be a first,” I added, a bit more harshly than I’d intended.
Casimir frowned. “Fuck off, Farrow, this is not the first time I’ve upheld a promise,” he said, but the words held no venom.
“Whatever,” I grumbled.
“Anything I haven’t shared with you is only out of necessity. This may come as a shock to you, but you’re not the only person I’m trying to keep alive.”
I stared at him, momentarily taken aback by his declaration, before the familiar pulse of anger pushed past my senses.
“Look, I can accept that you have your secret Scryers. You don’t have to tell me everything. I can handle that. But you refuse to admit that I might actually be helpful. At the ball, for instance, I can distract the Order while you look for the Heir. Evren still believes he can torture me. If he’s expecting a show, I can give it to him. It might be our last opportunity to find her before they do.”
“I don’t like your idea of a plan,” he growled. “Not one bit.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “Whether or not you like it hardly matters.”
A tense silence followed this exchange. At last, Casimir gave a curt nod, though a glimmer of anger still gleamed behind his stony expression.
“Can I ask you something?” I said. “How does Devereaux know about theBook of Erebos?”
A smirk twisted at the edges of his lips.
“You stole it from Devereaux in the first place, didn’t you?” I guessed.
“Yes.”
I snorted. “Well, that was idiotic of you.”
“Perhaps,” he conceded.
I thought again of the lock of Casimir’s hair I’d tucked inside the Book’s bindings, and how the sprite had giggled and taunted me. My cheeks warmed at the memory, but I banished it with a shake of my head.
Abruptly, the rune on my arm seared painfully. A reminder of my vow to Evren.Will you vow to do all in your power to ensure the Darkseer does not destroy the Book?
“Can I suggest something?” I said tentatively.
Casimir dipped his chin.
“What if we didn’t destroy the Book? I mean, it’s so valuable, truly irreplaceable. I doubt there’s another like it.”
He shot me a quizzical glance, as if sensing the guilt tying knots in my stomach.
Shaking his head, he replied, “It’s too risky. We’ll destroy it Saturday night, and no later.”
I nodded, and the knots twisted tighter.
We sat together for several moments in silence, soaking in the pale morning light and listening to the birds trilling in the surrounding canopy.
“You don’t have to do this alone, you know,” I said after a while. “I can help.”
Casimir sighed. “You’re going to be extremely stubborn about this, aren’t you?”