The platter was heavy, and the corridor to the nest was long.
Ren carried it in both hands. The glaze had stopped bubbling, but steam still curled off the cracked shells. A snake guard slithered ahead of her and didn't look back once.
Kael had watched her pick up the platter without a word, his arms crossed so tight the muscles stood out.
He had followed her as far as the scullery archway and no farther.
"I will wait here," Kael had said.
Ren hadn't looked back after that.
The guard stopped at the obsidian door, bowed, and left.
Ren pushed it open with her shoulder.
The nest was dark and cold. A few patches of blue moss glowed near the ceiling, and her breath came out pale. The fur bed was a mess, the pelts heaped and twisted as if someone had been lying in them for days and turning over every hour.
Syris lay in the middle of it with his back to her.
"I brought it," Ren said.
Nothing.
