"No shit," Baelfire huffs. "I just want this fucking collar off. Whatever shit is in there, I could take it down if I could fucking shift."
"Wait until I make a few kills," I murmur. "Then I can get your collar off."
They all glance at me like they want more explanation, but I'm not about to expound on that when other legacies might overhear. Besides, they should have been paying attention to Professor Crowley's lecture on revenants and the kind of magic I can use. It's nothing but destructive, which means I can shatter powerful spells easily as long as I have enough fuel.
And I'm confident I'm about to get alotof fuel in there.
The thought makes me smile, which makes Everett sigh.
"Please don't tell me you're actually looking forward to this, Oakley."
"Very much." Legacies vanish in droves ahead of us, off into whatever fun awaits. But as we get nearer to the forest's edge, a new concern blooms in my head, and I frown. "If I lose control in there and begin berserking, you four need to abandon me and run."
Crypt snorts. "Good one, love."
"I'm serious. In that state, I have no idea if I'll be a danger to you?—"
"There will be plenty of targets in there," Silas says quietly, his crimson eyes darting all over the place as if the voices in his head are working him up even more. "So if that happens, we'll stay out of the way and watch you gleefully slaughter our opponents once again. But we're not leaving you,sangfluir. I'm insulted you would even suggest it."
I scowl. "Fine. But if I kill any of you, I'm going to…"
Huh. What's a good threat for after death?
I don't get to think of one because it's finally our time to step into Everbound Forest, and the transportation magic sweeps us into First Placement.
33
SILAS
The maze is filledwith the echoes of screams.
As soon as the transportation magic fades, we find ourselves inside a massive stone hallway, the top of which is left open to the dark, cloudy winter sky that lightly scatters swirling snowflakes from above. The hallway is so wide that if we all stood side by side with extended arms, we would barely bridge the length.
"This must have taken their minions days to build with magic," Everett mutters, moving to stand protectively behind Maven as we all take in our surroundings.
Vibrant red magic flares around my hands when we hear a scream around one of the nearby corners, but Maven shakes her head.
"Wait. That wasn't from a shadow fiend."
Everett frowns, his glacial eyes sweeping over the empty maze hall we're standing in. "How can you tell?"
"I can sense them. That was probably a rival quintet.
A rival quintet to finish the job for us,one of the voices in my head coos.
One to slit the pretty revenant's throat.
"Shut the fuck up," I grit.
Maven is also analyzing our surroundings. "Fine, I will. Gods."
Damn it. "I wasn't talking to you, it was?—"
I'm interrupted when an incomplete group of matched legacies round the corner and charge toward us. Some of them are bleeding heavily, but their keeper refuses to back down even after she sees who they're up against.
Soon, we're locked in combat—only this time, Maven's personal training has paid off because our quintet works together far more smoothly.
We've knocked out a siren, and things are going well until the remaining two get too close to Maven. As soon as they do, Crypt's markings light up, and suddenly, the rival legacies turn on each other, brandishing fangs and magic. The rest of us watch in surprise as they tear into each other, and soon enough, they're both dead.
