2_-_court_of_mist_and_fury_a_-_sarah_j._maas

As I strode up the steps of the palace, cursing myself for remaining so out of shape even
with Cassian’s lessons, I spied Amren perched on the ledge of a turret balcony, cleaning
her nails.
Varian leaned against the threshold of another tower balcony within jumping range—
and I wondered if he was debating if he could clear the distance fast enough to push her
off.
A cat playing with a dog—that’s what it was. Amren was practically washing herself,
silently daring him to get close enough to sniff. I doubted Varian would like her claws.
Unless that was why he hounded her day and night.
I shook my head, continuing up the steps—watching as the tide swept out.
The sunset-stained sky caught on the water and tidal muck. A little night breeze
whispered past, and I leaned into it, letting it cool the sweat on me. There had once been a
time when I’d dreaded the end of summer, had prayed it would hold out for as long as
possible. Now the thought of endless warmth and sun made me … bored. Restless.
I was about to turn back to the stairs when I beheld the bit of land that had been
revealed near the tidal causeway. The small building.
No wonder I hadn’t seen it, as I’d never been up this high in the day when the tide was
out … And during the rest of the day, from the muck and seaweed now gleaming on it, it
would have been utterly covered.
Even now, it was half submerged. But I couldn’t tear my eyes from it.
Like it was a little piece of home, wet and miserable-looking as it was, and I need only
hurry along the muddy causeway between the quieter part of the city and the mainland—
fast, fast, fast, so I might catch it before it vanished beneath the waves again.
But the site was too visible, and from the distance, I couldn’t definitively tell if it was
the Book contained within.
We’d have to be absolutely certain before we went in—to warrant the risks in searching.
Absolutely certain.
I wished I didn’t, but I realized I already had a plan for that, too.
We dined with Tarquin, Cresseida, and Varian in their family dining room—a sure sign
that the High Lord did indeed want that alliance, ambition or no.
Varian was studying Amren as if he was trying to solve a riddle she’d posed to him, and
she paid him no heed whatsoever as she debated with Cresseida about the various
translations of some ancient text. I’d been leading up to my question, telling Tarquin of the
things I’d seen in his city that day—the fresh fish I’d bought for myself on the docks.
“You ate it right there,” Tarquin said, lifting his brows.
Rhys had propped his head on a fist as I said, “They fried it with the other fishermen’s