She's still alive but bone-thin as she weeps over a fresh grave. I can practically feel her sobs rattling in my chest, and I want nothing more than to stand beside her to silently offer comfort.
Move on quickly, my telum. Fulfill your purpose, and they will be spared.
Reviving is slow and disorienting because I force myself to keep my eyes closed. But I have to because I have no idea how long I was gone or what I'm about to wake up to. If Silas and Baelfire witnessed me slipping away…
But no. I hear them outside this room still, talking and snapping quietly at each other. Peeking one eye open, I realize I'm lying in the enormous bed where I first explored Baelfire and discovered his praise kink.
Just thinking of that creates a twinge of hurt in my chest—but also, to my horror, warm goosebumps scatter down my arms.
Stupid fucking body. It's been way too confused by them.
The pain is entirely gone now, which I find fascinating. From an objective standpoint, at least now I know that nightshade root powder isn't listed among the handful of ways toactuallykill me, even if it hurts like hell.
My head lolls to the right, and I squint at the closed curtains. Faint gray light peeks through them, telling me it's nearly dawn. I've been under for roughly twenty-four hours, then. The bedside table next to me is crowded with every kind of spell ingredient known to the House of Arcana and several rags stained with drying streaks of blood.
Gritting my teeth, I try in vain to move again. My body is much weaker than it usually is after one of my episodes, probably thanks to the poison. I need to get out of here and disappear entirely so I won't be caught and suspected of the headmaster's assassination. I don't have to worry about the winter solstice deadline anymore—my first target is dead, whether or not it was by my hand. Now, I need to start tracking down the others.
But I freeze as the image of the changeling standing over me comes back.
Kenzie.
I can't leave. Not yet, not when I know that changeling got to her. I need to figure out whether she's dead or alive—and if sheisalive, there's a very high chance that the changeling has her hidden away somewhere to use her as a feeding source.
Changelings are uncommon monsters. They’re intelligent, but they lack emotion and loyalty. If they have time to observe a target, they can mimic that person down to the slightest mannerisms, but to survive, they must feed on other people's memories. So there’s a high chance it has Kenzie stashed away, slowly feeding on her mind until she's nothing more than a blank slate.
Just a husk of who she was.
Unexpected emotion clogs my throat at the thought of losing Kenzie in that way. Still, I hope that's the case because at least it would mean the bubbly lioness shifter might still be alive. A surge of anger and bone-deep determination washes over me, finalizing my decision.
If Kenzie is alive, I'll find her. The rest of my tasks will wait.
Not to mention, I have to kill that changeling to cover my own tracks since it now knows what I am. I can't count on a faithless changeling not to tell the fucking Legacy Council that thetelumis at Everbound University.
But first, I have to get the hell away from these legacies who hurt me.
2
MAVEN
When I tryto move again, I manage to sit up before my strength gives out, leaving me slumped against the headboard. But as my senses return, I tense. Because even though the room is empty, I don’tfeelalone.
The Nightmare Prince is here, watching me from Limbo.
He witnessed me slip away and revive.Again.
I glare at the spot on the bed near me where I feel a slight, indescribable pull. Silas said he temporarily locked Crypt in Limbo, so I’m running on limited time before the psychopathic, dreamy stalker returns. I wonder if he’ll tell the others what he saw in the headmaster’s office and in here.
I also can’t help wondering how much of his stalking was motivated by their little bet. The thought makes my chest ache, and I frown. This shouldn’t be bothering me as much as it is. Sure, they fucked me over. It hurts, but I should be able to get over it quickly and move on with my mission. It’s hardly the first time someone hurt me when I was stupid enough to let down my guard, so why do Ifeelit so much more this time?
At long last, I drag myself from the bed. Glancing down, I see I’m still in the ripped black clothing stained with mine and thechangeling’s blood. That’s a relief. Once I get more magic into my system, I’ll need this dried blood for a ritual to track it down.
Quietly, I move to the door and take a deep breath as I prepare to leave. But then someone shouts from the direction of the kitchen down the hall. Something shatters. Slipping out, I approach on high alert. I can sense Crypt following me closely in Limbo.
Glancing around the hallway’s corner, I see Silas and Baelfire grappling with each other. Silas’s bleeding crystal protrudes from Baelfire’s bicep, which keeps trying to heal around it. Baelfire is gripping the blood fae’s hands with a snarl to keep them from encircling his throat. Shards of a broken bowl speckled with bright blood are scattered across the tile nearby, right in front of a decorative table filled with thriving potted plants.
“Snap out of it, Si,” Bael barks. “It’s all in your fucking head!”
I catch a brief glimpse of Silas’s face, and the mindless panic mixed with fury I see there makes my throat tighten. Because he doesn’t seem like Silas. He looks entirely out of his mind.
