by Monica Sanz
She gripped his lapels, wishing she could shake him and make him understand. “Timothy, I can’t. Believe me, I am safe. It’s you that you should be worried about.”
“I want only you.”
Sera swallowed tightly. What could she possibly say to that? She had to get him out of there, and she needed to contact Barrington somehow—if he was awake. This was what they had worked for, bled for, nearly died for.
Wake up, she prayed. The memory of holding him sent a tingle down her arms. You needed me, and now I need you.
“Sera?”
She shook away her prayers. Barrington would want her to focus on the case.
“Will you come with me?”
To do what was needed.
She clasped her fingers over his. “Yes.”
His mouth twitched with a smile, his eyes the brightest she had ever seen them. “Yes?”
She nodded, a broken smile at her lips. She would protect him just as he’d protected her and loved her in silence all these years. Even if her heart were incapable of loving him. Even if she vanished into thin air after securing his safety. “I’ll go with you, but we must leave now. I fear the Brotherhood will manage to find out your identity.”
Before the last word was said, he caught her lips in a slow kiss filled with the tenderness of a person savoring and memorizing their ultimate wish. Sera stiffened yet forced herself to ease and yield. Once he was safe, she would leave, and the memory of this kiss was all she could possibly leave him with. Her heart lay elsewhere.
They broke apart, equally breathless.
“We should go,” she said, standing. Hands entwined, they walked out of the library and into the hall. Mary waited, curled into herself against the wall. She gazed up, green eyes pooled with tears.
“Mary, what is it?” Sera knelt before her, but Mary swatted away her tears and smiled meekly.
“It’s nothing. You mentioned you were both in danger, and I was worried.” She took Sera’s hands, and the two girls rose together.
“We are,” Sera said, “and we have to leave. But as soon as I can, I will reach out to you, I promise. The people after us will not rest until they find us.” Releasing her, Sera made for the stone wall, Timothy behind her.
“Where will you go? It will take little work for your father to find you,” Mary told Timothy. “And Sera, they will find a way to blame you, you know this. Perhaps give it a few days. You will be safe in the Academy.”
Timothy sighed. “Anywhere is safer than here. We will have to keep moving, but we will be okay,” he said, giving Sera’s hand a gentle squeeze. She forced a smile, her heart twisting within. He would never forgive her betrayal, but his safety came first.
“Then let me help. I know of a place—an old church not too far from my house. The church grounds are sacred, and the lands there are consecrated, so you can’t transfer in and out, and scrying is out of the question. You will be safe there, for a time at least, until you can get your bearings and think of a plan.”
Sera and Timothy looked at each other and nodded. Their plan was no better. “That sounds fantastic, Mary. Thank you.”
Mary gave her a sad smile. “What are friends for?”
She twined her hand tight around Sera’s as they walked through the wall. “Come, we will transfer out from here. Quickly, before someone comes.”
“But they will trace our magic,” Sera said.
“I’ll do it,” Mary offered. “It’ll be weeks before they trace every illegal transfer that takes place in the school, and even when they do, it will be my magic they find, not yours. Believe me, it will work.”
Timothy’s brow gathered, uncertainty on his face, but Sera nodded. “Okay. We just need a few days to think of a plan, and we’ll move. If the Aetherium tracks us down at the church, we will be long gone.”
Mary nodded, and kneeling, she wrote out the coordinate spells. They moved into the circle together. Mary aimed her wand at the ground and whispered, “Ignite.”
A moment later, the three of them landed neatly in an open field. The night was cool, but with her pulse quick as it was, Sera welcomed the whispering breeze that chilled her skin. The winds whisked over the patchwork hills and winding country roads spread out before them, bringing the scent of earth and cold to her nose. The lights of a village flickered in the distance like beacons, but Mary turned them away from this to a waist-high stone wall that snaked along the hillside.
“We can’t transfer beyond this point,” she said, leading them to a break in the stone. They hiked up the hilly terrain of dry grass and thick hedgerows.
Minutes later, they reached the top of a slope. The church stood abandoned on the hill, its skeletal structure breaking up the clear horizon.
“We’re here,” Mary said, her breath heaving from the walk.
The crumbling brick church looked wholly unstable, some of the flying buttresses cracked or missing altogether. Sections of the roof were also gone, a side of the one spire sunken in and rotted beams of wood visible through the gaping hole. Large windows flanked the arched doorway. Vines grew along the outside, suffocating the crumbling structure. But although abandoned and terribly ominous, Sera saw it for what it was: sanctuary.
Mary walked them toward the arched doorway. With a grunt, she shouldered the door open and held her wand before her, illuminating the space.
“Watch your step,” she said, entering. Sera and Timothy lifted their wands the same, rods of light in the midst of an echoing darkness.
The pews were heaps of rotted wood, stacked upon one another like miniature pyres. Crumbling bricks would have allowed for light were it day, but in the darkness, they looked like eyes in the wall. Dirt stained the once-white tile that composed the nave all the way to the altar. Sera imagined a long carpet may have been there at one time, but clearly the days of the building’s beauty were long gone.
Timothy held up his wand and walked toward the stone altar. “I think this will do nicely for now.”
“Indeed.” Sera turned to Mary. “Thank you.”
Mary lifted a hand to Sera’s cheek, her chin quivering. “I really wish it didn’t have to be this way.” A tear spilled from her eyes. “I’m really sorry, about all of this. I truly am.”
Sera cradled Mary’s hand. “It isn’t your fault. We never would have found this place without you. You’ve been a ray of light for me at the Academy, and I will never forget it.”
“I hope you remember me that way.”
“How else would I remember you?”
Tears pooled in Mary’s eyes. She opened her mouth to speak—
“Sera, Sera in a cage…”
Sera froze, stark cold shooting down her spine at the voice echoing around her. No…
“Sera, Sera wants to fly…”
Her hand tight on her wand, she spun, but his voice was everywhere, bouncing off the walls and refusing to escape through the gaping holes in the structure. No, it was meant to stay and taunt her.
“But her pretty wings are broken…”
One by one, the Brotherhood stepped out from shadows, their wands aimed at Sera and Timothy. Sera gazed up; they were on the second level as well.
Timothy ran to Sera, pulling her close behind him. They aimed their wands, but she paused, as from the shadows at the altar a man robed in red stepped out and lifted his plague mask.
“Look at her fall from the sky.”
Noah was everything she remembered. Beauty personified. Fear become flesh. And alive. Very much alive. Dread bloomed to a solid rock in her chest, an invisible hand clutched tight around her lungs, shackles fettering her to the ground. His hair was shorter, accentuating his strong nose, wide jaw, and full lips. And when that devastatingly cool gaze fell upon her, Sera shivered.
He closed his eyes and hauled in a breath, as though relieved to have finally found her. But she knew better than to hold some deluded hope that he’d missed her. Their last time together she’d nearly killed him, and she had no doubt that this time,
he would try to kill her.
Opening his eyes, he smiled, but not at her. “I thought you’d change your mind. Your mother will be proud.”
Timothy followed Noah’s gaze, and his eyes widened. But there was no need for Sera to turn. The silence behind her said it all, as did the wand tip pressed firmly at her back.
She smiled bitterly. “So it was you.”
“I’m so sorry, Sera,” Mary said. “I had to.”
27
broken oath, broken life
Mary snatched Sera’s wand and Timothy’s as well. She paced backward down the nave, careful steps leading her to Noah. He stood in front of the pulpit, a stand with carved black wings at either side of it, where for centuries so many before him spewed hateful lies against seventhborns. Behind him, the stained glass depicted a gate and six guardians of magic standing before it. And locked behind the gate was the seventh sister, haloed by a black flame.
Hands bound in whips of magic, Timothy and Sera were dragged down the nave. Timothy’s voice echoed above the shuffle of their footsteps as he attempted to soothe Sera whenever she’d grunt or hiss with a bump or stumble. “Everything will be okay,” he said, but nothing could ease the anger she wrestled to tame in her veins, the magic at her fingertips, hot and scalding, begging for uninhibited release. She glanced up to the crumbling bricks and rotting rafters. One wild blow of magic and she could bring this place down around them. But she’d been through this before; she couldn’t risk Noah escaping again.
She had to keep Timothy safe. And Mary…
She looked at her friend. Her sister. Her traitor. Was this what true friends—what sisters—did? Every laugh, every shared cry…had any of it been real?
Pain of Mary’s betrayal jabbed Sera’s heart. She winced, and her hold on her magic slipped; the glass windows around them exploded, a deafening shatter. Shards of multicolored glass rained around them. Timothy shoved the Brother holding him and started to reach for Sera, but the Brother yanked him back by his cloak.
“Enough!” Noah growled, his face contorted in anger. He lifted a hand. A shock of magic slammed into Sera’s chest, clawing its fiery talons into her ribs and thrusting her into the air. She crashed against the squared base of a marble statue, its pointed edge digging into her back. A jolt of coldness rushed down to each limb. Tightness gripped her chest.
“Bring them to me.” Noah’s voice was calm, soft…soothing almost, though savageness radiated from every part of him.
Two Brothers dragged her to her feet and tugged her and Timothy toward the altar. Timothy struggled, but with the ache of Noah’s blast radiating through her, Sera stumbled upon the beveled tiles and rubble, unable to fight at all.
They were brought to a stop before Noah. Kicked in the back of the knees, both she and Timothy collapsed onto the broken tile floor. Sera winced, a stone jammed into her knee. A Brother pressed his wand to her neck.
She imagined Noah would be angry, yet a smile pulled at his lips as he descended the altar stairs slowly, his red robe dragging behind him. She looked into his eyes to better gauge his mood, but found nothing. He was worse than a tempest.
Stopping before her, he lifted a hand to her face, a sick thrill of fulfilled longing burning in those brown eyes.
“I’ve been thinking of you,” he said over Timothy’s grunts and demands he stay away from her. He reached around and slipped a pin from her hair, his touch gentle as his fingers tangled in the brown strands. Sera braced; he never stayed tender for long. “I think of you all the time.”
He removed the other pins and dropped them to the ground, one by one, until Sera’s hair tumbled down onto her shoulders. “Every day.”
He moved quickly, and there was a loud snap. Burn spread across Sera’s cheek, and she crashed to the ground, rubble jamming into her palms on impact. She growled, her magic spiking. It gathered and rattled for her to let go, but she ground her teeth together. Not yet.
Noah knelt before her and smoothed a hand along his hair, raking it back into place. “I’m sorry, Sera. I’m sorry. I…I hate losing things. I hated losing you. I was worried sick they would tame you.”
His words gave her pause. He’d been worried she’d be tamed? Of course. Barrington had told her such in so many words. With control, she was stronger. With focus, she could destroy him. With focus she would destroy him.
“Let her go,” Timothy snarled, now held fixed by three Brothers, two at his sides and one behind him. “You have me; you have no need of her.”
Noah’s look changed then, the unnatural quick coming of a thunderstorm. Brown eyes turned to Timothy, his jaw tight. With hands clasped behind his back, he walked the few steps to where Timothy knelt with hands bound.
“It’s a good thing telling me your secret will kill you, otherwise I’d be forced to skin you alive for coveting things that aren’t yours.” He turned his eyes to Sera momentarily, then focused his attention back on Timothy. “What is this spell that you keep?”
Timothy’s eyes sparkled, though a sad smile touched his mouth. “Let her go, and I’ll tell you anything you want.”
Sera gasped, her heart pounding. “Timothy, you can’t!” Her magic pulsed. A nearby statue burst, and stone shards crumbled to the ground, white dust wafting around them. Noah raised a hand. The binds on Sera’s hands slithered like snakes up her arms, burning, and she screamed—the magic she gathered shattered under the pain.
“I told you before, it’s me you want. Leave her out of this!” Timothy growled. “Swear a blood oath to me that you and your men will not hurt her, and the spell is yours.”
“Timothy, no!” Sera struggled to funnel her magic into one current she could use against Noah, but it was spread everywhere within her, wanting to incinerate everything.
Noah drew a dagger from a scabbard at his side. “A blood oath it is. She will not be killed in exchange for your spell. But if you try anything once you get back your wand, you’re dead, and I will use her to raise you. Mary?”
Mary tossed Timothy’s wand at his knees. Hands still bound, Timothy picked up his wand and held it out to Noah. Noah sliced his palm and dripped blood onto the rod, then held the tip of the stained wand to Timothy’s. “My life and those of my men in exchange for her life.”
Sera was sure if she hadn’t been on her knees, she would have fallen onto them anyway. How could someone who she’d barely spent time with care for her to this extreme, and yet the one who pledged to be a sister betray her in such a way? She turned her eyes from the oath being made to Mary, who lingered by the transept door. Her face was turned down, her wand clasped at her core. If not for the rise and fall of her chest, Sera would have thought her dead.
Noah lowered his wand. “Our oath has been made. Now for your secret.”
The well of pain tore open to a hollow pit. Tears Sera wished didn’t exist spilled from her eyes.
Timothy hauled in a breath and braced. “The Rites of Supremacy.”
The words spoken were like a blow to the gut, and he cringed, collapsing onto his bound hands with a groan.
Sera winced but forced herself to watch him struggle to stay upright. “Timothy, please don’t do it. Don’t tell him.”
“What are the Rites of Supremacy?” Noah gripped Timothy’s hair and lifted him back onto his knees. Timothy’s face was flushed, his mouth pressed into a tight line as pain mapped his veins. “What are they?”
Sera grunted and tried to force her magic into control. Focus, focus, focus!
Timothy took in a deep breath and met Sera’s eyes again, as though to bolster himself against the imminent pain. “As there were seven guardians of magic, so you must also find seven sisters, each element represented. The blood of six must be shed and the seventh must drink this offering. Upon saying the following words, the gates will be opened, where you will find the ultimate power: power over time…” He cried out and fell forward onto his hands. Droplets of blood streamed from his nose to the floor, a crimson constellation on the dirty tile.
Bursts of power gathered in Sera’s hands, but at the sight of Timothy in pain, of his imminent death as a result of his love for her, her heart stuttered, her magic scattered, and another statue exploded.
“What is this spell?” Noah asked greedily.
“Leave him alone!” Sera roared, and the window behind Noah shattered into a cloud of pulverized glass.
Noah flinched but straightened, his murderous gaze trained on Sera. He would make her pay for that, she knew this, but managing to gather a bit of power, she shot an orb of magic toward him, hoping to bind him—anything to engage him and give Timothy a reprieve.
Noah swept aside coolly, evading her attack. The binds whipped around a pillar behind him, and quickly fizzled. Noah clenched his hands then, and Sera cried out as the binds he’d whipped around her dug deeper into her skin. She toppled over, writhing in pain that spread like blood through her veins.
Timothy fell onto his hands and, shaking, drew out a linked set of ciphers to a spell with his blood. He groaned, the sob caged behind his clenched teeth. As much as he tried to stay strong, he heaved and retched clots of blood beside him.
Sera focused on her pain and thrust a wild flare up to the rafters. Planks of rotted wood crashed down around them, but it wasn’t enough to bring them down. She knew she had to calm herself in order to gather her magic into stronger blows, but her soul clawed her insides. Things couldn’t end this way. They couldn’t.
Noah stared down at Timothy, unaffected, consumed. “Continue. What is the spell they must speak?”
Timothy struggled to remain upright but tumbled forward onto his hands. Blood streamed from his eyes, his gaze distant and unfocused. “I bleed my sisters. I bleed this life. I…open…”—he clutched his stomach—“I open that…which has been closed. I end that which has…begun.”
He collapsed onto his side, wheezing weak and shallow breaths. “My broken oath. My broken life.”
Sera screamed. Flares of fire surged around them, erratic pyres materializing out of thin air. They blew in and vanished like ghosts until, spent, heartbroken, and hopeless, Sera fell forward onto her bound hands beside Timothy.
