My hard stare makes him trail off. "Right. Relevance. Gods forbid I say anything that isn't conducive to what you have your mind set on. You have an astronomical case of tunnel vision, you know that?"
"I'm blushing," I say flatly. "Cut to the chase."
"Okay, here it is. Fae craftsmen tried to incorporatethis—" He lifts the shard. "Into their designs, but could find no way of working with the substance. It's called etherium and comes from Paradise. Supposedly, it can be endowed with extremely high levels of magic and enchanted to work in all manner of ways. The fae were fascinated by it but never used it much because only holy magic works on etherium. Oh—holy magic comes from the gods…so only their chosen saints, prophets, priests, and so on can use it," he tacks on.
In other words, this is utterly fucking useless.
Fantastic.
Felix tips his head thoughtfully. "But you know what? I doubt they ever testedyourtype of magic on it. Fae records said etherium was extremely rare. I wonder why it was in his crown. Then again, I guess no one really knows much about his background, huh?"
It's true. How Amadeus came to rule the Nether has long been forgotten—hence why I was poking around in his chambers, searching for answers.
I nod at the shard in his hand. "Keep that hidden. Maybe we can experiment with it to see if it could still be useful."
He nods but examines me. "You mean, if it could be useful to help you get us humans out of the Nether."
"Obviously."
"You're really going to try freeing us, aren't you?" he murmurs, his expression changing to something…affectionate. It's a touchy-feely, older-brotherly look, complete with a soft smile and proud, gleaming hazel eyes.
Gross. Any form of camaraderie aside from Lillian's has returned to haunt me, so I lift my chin.
"I won'ttry. I will. But if you ever look at me like that again, I'll gut you like a fucking fish and leave your rotting innards behind for the Undead to feast on."
Anyone else in the Nether would balk at my tone, but Felix sighs heavily.
"Seriously? Would it kill you to at leastpretendto still have a heart? Your entire personality is like a damned thistle. May the gods have mercy on anyone who ever tries to get close to you."
Joke's on him. Only an idiot would ever try to get close to me, as he puts it.
He's correct. I'm heartless—and I intend to stay this way. The less I let myself feel, the less it will hurt when I complete my mission and finally join the other restless dead.
1
MAVEN
Present
Fight or flight.
The former is all I have known since my entire life, and the latter has resulted in unbearable punishment.
Yet standing here, watching Silas unconscious and struggling to breathe, and knowing this is the calm before another storm…
Fighting is out of the cards. We need to run. It's cowardly, but that prophetess was right. Plenty of eyewitnesses escaped after seeing me kill Somnus, so every second that passes is another second that the truth is spreading like wildfire: thetelumis in the mortal realm.
The Immortal Quintet will send hired killers.
The Legacy Council will send bounty hunters.
Others will try to end me for the hell of it.
I'm in grave danger.
I wish I could savor it more, but facing any fight head-on would risk Silas. He's too vulnerable right now. There's no telling when he'll wake up—and hewillwake up, or I swear onall the fucking gods, I will drag his soul back from the Beyond myself.
Glancing down, I again study the dark House of Arcana emblem that begins a few inches below my jugular notch and ends at the top of my upper abdomen, a straight line down the center of my chest directly over my pale scar. It's a stark declaration that I've been bound to this cutthroat fae.
