Free World Weaver (The Devany Miller Series Book 4) by Jen Ponce

froze, though not out of fear.
    Zephyrinia gave him the same spiel she’d given me, then finished with, “It’s selfish as much as it’s generous. We want answers and Devany can help us.”
    I slipped my hand in his and squeezed gently. He squeezed back. He’d go along with it for me. For now. “We need to find someplace safer to talk.”
    Zephyrinia rented a room in a hotel a couple blocks from the cafe and we trooped up together. The clerk gazed after us and Mal snorted in laughter.
    “What?” Zeph asked as we stepped inside the lift.
    “He’s picturing us all together in bed, naked.”
    I curled my lip as the ornate doors slid shut. Perv. It also confirmed my suspicions about Mal.
    Zeph unlocked the door and stepped aside for us to enter. In one corner of the room, a bed floated over a small pond with koi swimming in it and honest to goodness lily pads on the surface of the water. The walls didn’t look like walls: they were jungle trees, densely packed, though when I touched one, I could feel the solid wooden panel underneath the illusion. Even though my hand was telling me it was a wall, my eyes insisted it was a boundless jungle I could walk into and disappear.
    Trippy.
    We sat on white cushions that bobbled in the air and drank water from a waterfall that danced over a metal sculpture in the shape of an exotic bird. I wasn’t sure how a person would ever get to sleep in a place like this. There were too many things to see, too much noise. Maybe there was an off switch somewhere.
    “The easiest thing would be for Mal and I to walk in and take your daughter,” Zeph said.
    I shook my head. “No. Arsinua is all that’s paranoia and she’s terrified of Skriven. He would trip every alarm she has.”
    “Skriven?”
    “Yeah.” More questions bloomed and I said, “I hate to be an asshole, but I want to focus on getting my daughter back. Once I have her safe, then I’ll answer your questions. Please.”
    He nodded, though clearly he wasn’t happy.
    “Then I’ll go by myself,” Zephyrinia said, breaking up the uncomfortable silence left by my plea.
    “It’s not safe,” Mal said.
    She arched a brow. I almost felt sorry for him. Silenced by me and then her. “She doesn’t know me. I won’t register as anything but witch. And it’s not like I’m helpless.” She patted the gun on her hip.
    I could almost imagine it. Zeph going in shooting. Bethany getting hit in the crossfire. “No. Arsinua has had plenty of time to fortify her hideout. I won’t risk Bethy. There’s got to be a way to get to her that doesn’t involve a shootout.”
    Set a trap. Lure out the witch and then eat her.
    ‘Thanks, but I’m not eating anyone,’ I told Neutria. I caught Mal’s frown and smiled grimly. If he was eavesdropping, he deserved being disturbed by whatever he heard.
    “Why don’t we use the tides?” At my blank look, Zeph said, “The tides break down magic, which means when they roll in, they will wreck any protection spells she has built up around the place.
    Krosh, who’d been pacing the room behind us—away from Mal—said, “It could work. I wouldn’t be able to help, though.”
    Right. Because the tide would shift him unpredictably. Would it do the same to Neutria and me?
    “You’re a Ground dweller,” Mal said. “A, what do they call it? Wydling.”
    “Yes.”
    “How does the wild magic not consume you?”
    “It doesn’t want to consume the People. It wants us to thrive. We celebrate it and in return, it allows us safe passage.” He let his hyena peer through his eyes, making him look deadlier, otherworldly. “It wasn’t meant to be caged, any more than we were.”
    Zeph and I exchanged glances and then she said, “Our part of the world is a lot different. We live and die in the sky. Those on the Ground are often mad.”
    “Are they? How much time have you spent down there with them?”
    She laughed and pulled up her sleeve. A long, ugly gash ran from her wrist upward, and