by A. Vers
I shake my head. The tense quiet grows. Any other time, I would be grateful to see her. Happy even. Now I just wish she would leave and he would stay. I can’t bring myself to speak. To ask her in.
Nix glances at me one more time, understanding in his features, before he eases past her and disappears down the hall.
Chapter 27
The silence roars through me. It takes everything in me not to scream. Not to rail at the empty space Nix was in moments before. His kiss is like ghost heat over my lips, his touch like fire pushing away the sudden cold.
His scent spills from the clothes on my body, and it’s the only thing keeping me in place. Keeping me from going after him.
Mother steps inside and closes the door. I finally look up. Her eyes meet mine. “Sayah, baby?”
My lips tremble.
She crosses the room, hands alighting on my cheeks. “Did he hurt you? Tell me what happened?”
I gaze into her blue eyes. The color and surety more solid than my own. “No. Nix would never hurt me.”
She jolts back like I hit her. “Sayah. Then what--”
“I think I like them. Both of them.”
Her head shakes. “No.” The word is fierce. “No. You can’t.” Each word grows stronger. “There are rules, Sayah. Things your Father has asked me not to tell you. But you know better.”
I pull back, angry all over again. But it’s easier than the pain. The uncertainty. “I know. But you don’t know what we’ve been through. What we had to do to get out of the Void.”
Her normally lithe body drops onto the bed beside me. “Okay. Then tell me, Sayah. Help me to understand why it seems like you let them in. You can never let them in. You know—”
My eyes narrow, and heat scorches me. “I know. I’m supposed to never show my power and never tell anyone what I am.” My voice rises. “I didn’t tell them. Nix guessed. Just now. And Chol…”
What Nix said finally filters through me. My eyes widen and disbelief pushes down the shock. “Chol’s going to do it. He’s going to go through with the Novendo. Because of…” I trail off, unwilling to voice what happened.
Not that anything did.
Except he used amour on me. Something he swore he’d never do again. He tried to seduce me with magick, he was going to…
Vomit because he hurt me. Sacrifice half his magick for the same reason? Let them bind him by his own power?
To protect me.
‘I think this was the last straw.’ Nix’s words circle endlessly in my head.
As much as I want to be angry at Chol--disgusted at what happened, I know better.
‘We don’t have to rush anything, Sayah.’ Those gentle words in the Parax tent seem like a million years ago. Anguish fills me.
I look at Mother. “Where are they doing the ritual?”
She blinks. “Sayah—”
“The Novendo. Where are they having it?” I snap.
Her hands wring. “The Sanctum.”
I climb from the bed, hand on my borrowed shorts, and dive for my bag. Upending the contents, I dig for something clean. Presentable.
Mother makes a noise behind me, drawing my attention. She takes in the stubborn line to my jaw, the same line that has been in hers for years. Her eyes go heavenward. “If you’re going to go before Consul Ellmeck…you need something more than jeans.”
Ѻ
I slip my dirks into the gear covering me. Like a mix between Midnight’s uniform and Nix’s armor, the borrowed clothes are a bit tight across my thighs and shoulders. But I feel more like myself than I have in days.
The halls of the consulate brim with warriors, most years older than me. I try to ignore the stares, the murmurs. Mother walks patiently at my side, her shoulders back and her chin high. It’s not superiority, but it’s close.
There are horrors in the Void--things that the delicate beings of Earth can never fathom. I’ve survived it for eighteen years. Survived the power inside me, one I was never meant to possess. A power I can now use.
“Remember what I said, Sayah,” Mother murmurs softly as we reach the Sanctum doors.
I peer at her. “I will.”
She smiles sadly and leans forward to kiss my cheek. Her soft floral fragrance fills my nose as she brushes a few stray tendrils of my hair back.
I pull away and push inward on the massive iron plates of the doors.
They creak open on old hinges, bringing with it a cool, musty gust of air. I step inside the narrow stairwell and start the descent below ground. Torches flicker all along the rough stone walls. The narrow circles of light do nothing but illuminate the dust, grime, and cobwebs covering every inch of the stairwell.
With every riser, the cold deepens until my fingertips are numb in the borrowed gloves. Every draft pulls more than the mildewed fragrance of Earth to my nose. It brings with it moans and laments for help. Pleas and cries of sorrow and pain. Every hair on my body raises at the inhumane howl that rips through the dimness.
The torches fade behind me, leaving a dark hole yawning up from below. Just beyond the shadows rests a dancing sheen of amber. Pale and dim, it barely brightens the landing.
I hesitate, foot poised to alight on the last stair. Strange knobs and protruding bits of stone jut out from the archway before me. Long bolts of off-white magick intersect like a patchwork quilt over the opening, leaving the shadows and light fighting for supremacy.
It reminds me of the shadow bind on Chol’s power. Shivering, I take the step and peer out the other side of the magicked opening.
Bone lines the walls like a morbid decoration. Skulls, femors, and other bits I cannot name rest in the hardened cement and in small nooks and crannies. Each piece is aged, older than I am, and completely smooth. I pull my amhara up behind my eyes.
Shadowed fire twists and writhes in and around each small white piece, solidifying and fading at once until the wall seems to quiver the longer I look at it. Like a mirage. But I finally know what kind of spell craft it is.
The whole underground vault is warded with death magick. The same magick that Rorick used to breach Midnight and the consulate. The same magick Nix uses.
Knowing Rorick was a Hallow at one point now makes sense. But it doesn’t make it any less creepy.
I shudder.
Ducking under the curved arch, I carefully skirt the walls and bypass the bone graveyard.
Cells line the walkway beyond. Each cordoned off space is stone and wrought-iron carved with runes, sigils, véve, and symbols I have never seen. An occasional flash of movement and glowing irises tells me which cells are truly occupied. Though nothing runs forward, I stick to the center of the path.
At the end of the corridor, twin doors--identical to the ones upstairs--wait with softly glowing gold light filtering around the edges.
I try to ignore the worry. The hesitation with what I am doing. Father will be furious. And he has every right to be. But this is the only way.
The right way.
With a deep breath, I stalk over the worn stone and push into the Consul’s inner sanctum.
Chapter 28
The worn stone table in the center of the room is covered in a simple white sheet. Chol sits on the top, his shirt gone and dark marks covering his skin. The soot seems barbaric on him. More at home for the man at his side.
Nix stands with his hand on the Prince’s shoulder, their heads close and murmured words between them.
All around the room, warriors and people in long white coats, like doctors, amble about. The fiery braziers are bright in the dimness, highlighting the high stone chamber and every face until shadows turn even the softest expression garish.
Every head in the room turns as I walk inside. I keep my shoulders back, and my chin held high. The weight of Nix and Chol’s gazes are palpable. Heavy.
But my eyes lock on my Father, the Consul, and what can only be High Mage Velnor.
The mage is bald with tattoos covering every inch of pale white skin. His eyes are rece
ssed, blacker than the Void, and mild. Devoid of everything but the power I don’t need my amhara to see.
“What is this?” Consul Ellmeck asks, incredulous. Her emerald eyes flash over me and behind to the dark corridor just beyond. “How did you get past the wards?”
Father sets down the thick tome in his hand, one I recognize from his personal library, and rushes around the table. His hazel irises are sharp, piercing. His fingers close over my arm in a bruising grip. “Sayah.”
The sense of betrayal, that he would use that spell on anyone else is bone-crushing. Velnor may be the powerhouse behind the Novendo, but he only got the how-to guide from one person.
I wrench away. Father’s eyes widen. “Don’t,” I say, voice harder than I intend.
His expression grows stern. “Sayah, why are you down here?” he asks.
I look past him to the glowering woman. “Consul Ellmeck, I seek a word.”
Some of her icy stare dissipates and I catch a trace of confusion. “A word? Surely it can—”
“No, ma’am. It can’t.”
She looks around, like my words confused her and she needs someone to translate.
“Please?” I prompt.
Her exhale is soft, but noticeable. “Fine.” She glances at the High Mage. “Velnor, can you continue--”
“I need to speak to him as well.” Silence follows my declaration, and Nix and Chol exchange a glance out of my peripheral.
Consul Ellmeck fluffs her white coat and walks around the stone table. Velnor glides behind her. I try not to shiver at the boneless ease with which he moves. But the man is a powerhouse all on his own.
When they are feet away, I start into the waiting corridor. Farther from the braziers, it’s chilly. I idly rub my hands over my arms as they approach. Father is close on their heels, his expression livid.
Drawing my power up inside my stomach, I push it out. The doors close in his face, leaving the Consul, Velnor, and myself alone in the dark hall.
Velnor eyes me in keen interest, his glittering gaze racking over my frame. I ignore it.
“You can’t allow my Father to do the Novendo,” I say without preamble.
Consul Ellmeck blinks. “I beg your pardon?”
“Father does not have the power to finish the ritual. That’s why you called him.” I jerk my thumb at the mage. “But I can do it without either of them.”
She begins to laugh, but the sound fades just as quickly as it came. Her head turns from the archway I should not have been able to enter, to the doors I just closed. “You’re serious?” she asks.
I nod, trembling slightly. “Phoenix and I have more than enough power between us to bind Chol’s magick. Both sides, if that is what he prefers. But I need a guide. I have never done a ritual of this magnitude, and I will need help.” I glance at Velnor.
“So you would ask me to guide you only?” His voice is deep, deeper than even Nix’s, and at odds with his rail-thin frame.
“The Novendo is a delicate rite. One I would not folly on the Prince. But what if there was another way?” I look between them. “I have the raw power. But not the knowledge or skill to do what I believe can be done. I can admit that.”
A touch of respect colors Ellmeck’s face. “It is a rare person indeed who will admit their faults,” she says softly.
My cheeks heat. “Chol--Prince Delancre has grown to be very important to me. As has Phoenix. They are my friends. And if I can help them… I would like to try.”
They exchange a long look. “Sayah, isn’t it?” the Consul asks. I nod. She motions me to the closed doors. “Go inside and warm yourself. And send your father out, will you?”
I do shake now, but it’s from adrenaline. She didn’t say no.
So I walk past them to the closed panels.
Father glowers at me as I slip inside the brighter room. “Sayah. What do you think--”
“The Consul would like to speak to you,” I cut in.
His mouth opens and closes like a fish before he spins away to the door. I don’t bother to make sure he actually leaves.
Two sets of now familiar irises watch me from across the room. Chol’s expression is part pain and part hope. But Nix’s is all fiery resolve.
I shiver as I move towards them. “Chol, you have something…” I point to the sooty marks covering his torso, “just there.”
Something in his irises cracks wide, swallowed moments later by his trademark sly grin. “Nix and I are twinses.”
I snort.
Nix stares at me, assessing. “What are you doing down here, Sayah?”
“I had an idea--”
“Absolutely not!” Father’s deafening roar is audible even through the narrow gap of the doors. I flinch. Chol jumps off the table, his eyes wide as Nix presses closer.
Pounding footsteps sound behind me.
“Sayah!”
I turn just as Father stalks into the room. His magick pulses around him, made brighter-- stronger--by his anger. And his worry. But it’s still only the soft hue of his mimir power.
“What are you thinking?” he asks, too much white ringing his gaze.
My arms fold across my chest. “It’s my choice.”
His teeth bare. “You will not give away this secret for--for a cambion and a Hallow,” he hisses.
I raise my hand and magick slams into him. He goes rigid in the center of the floor, bound by the power in my veins. A power of his making. Of our lineage.
His eyes dart and his face colors. “Release me. I am your father.”
I step in close to him, searching his face. “Are you?”
Some of the soft tan of his skin fades.
“Because if you were,” I continue, “you would have never made me who I am. Would have never spent years locking me away just because of what I am. What I could do. A father does not do that to their daughter. Not even to protect them.”
I stalk over the stone floor, fire simmering in my veins as the icy breath of my rage builds higher. “I’ve hid this for almost nineteen years. Hidden because you said I had to. Never having friends, or relationships. Nothing but the loneliness. Do you know what that’s like?” I ask.
His lips part to speak.
“No, you don’t,” I say, cutting him off. “You have Mother. She gave up everything to be with you. All her magick. Her name. Her legacy. And then you had me, and you locked me up in Midnight. Hiding me from every world, not just the Void.” I motion and the ties binding him fade, leaving him sagging, pale, and deflated.
“I wanted to protect you, Sayah,” he pleads. “To keep you from the pain you would have endured for years.”
“Does this look like I need protecting?” Clenching my hands, I draw on the secondary bloodline in my veins.
Fire wreathes me, icy blue and white. Just like it was at the embassy, my power flows endless, unencumbered and devastating. His eyes go wide and his skin turns lifeless.
“When?” he croaks.
“When you left us in the Void and those dark things attacked.” Forcing the fire down, my arm raises, showing the healed burn on my wrist. “I got this defending them both.”
If possible, he pales more. “Defending them?” To everyone else in the room, the question seems simple.
I know better.
“Yes. By battle and blood.”
Some of his tension leaves, and a note of pride fills his face. But it’s gone just as fast. “I always knew it would happen,” he says, an odd coldness touching his expression. “You are so much like your Mother. Running headlong when you should be more cautious.”
I bristle. “Better to defend than to sit idle.”
His eyes swim with anger. And maybe fear. “I will not give my permission for this,” he says, tone harder than I have ever heard it. “If you go through with this--if you endanger yourself needlessly, you will not be welcome back at Midnight.”
The ice his words causes is fast. All consuming. But I just continue to watch him.
I always kn
ew the day would come when he and I would stand off. But I never expected it so soon. Or maybe I knew it was coming. Maybe that was why I was so dead set on this. I’m grown and it is my choice. It always has been. Saving Chol was the right thing to do, and Father knows it.
But he can’t accept it. Not from me.
“Then consider me gone,” I say without an ounce of quiver in my voice.
His face colors. “Fine.” He looks past me, his gaze narrowing.
Something hot closes over my shoulder in a gentle grip as fingers entwine with mine on the other side.
My eyes burn, but I don’t lean into them. This is my battle. As much as I appreciate their support, they can’t help in this fight.
Father glowers at both males before fixing his swirling gaze on me. “You’re making a mistake, Sayah. But you’ll learn your lesson fast enough. You can’t trust demons. None of our kind can.” With one final angry look, he turns on his heel and storms from the chamber.
The quiet that follows is thunderous, but not loud enough to drown out the breaking of my heart.
Chapter 29
Chol and Nix stand across from me, the prince’s face comically surprised as my idea fades into silence. Nix remains as stoic as always. I try not to let my eyes linger on the Hallow, to try and figure out just what he feels about all this.
Father thought him a demon. If he knew how different Nix was…
I shut that train down fast.
“You’re going to do what?” Chol finally chokes out.
I offer him a small smile that probably looks more like a grimace. “Nix and I are going to bind your magick to ourselves. The Novendo is a way to kill your power. To take it away. Permanently. But the only real reason to do that is because it acts like a beacon.” He stares, lips parted, as I speak. “This will register it as being in three places at one time. And eventually, once you are truly safe, if you decide to…the division can be undone.”
Chol opens his mouth, closes it, opens it again. A small sound comes out before he clamps his lips tight, brows narrowed in thought. “But why?” he asks, finally. “Why you two?”
