I want to ask him questions, but I decide I'll figure out what to do once we're out of this stifling underground that my inner animal isn't comfortable in. Not wanting to risk touching someone and projecting my emotions onto them in the small crowd thronging the sarcophagi, I instead move to examine one of the shelves, reaching curiously toward one of the beautiful vials.
"Hey, you. Don't touch anything," Brahm snaps.
I didn't realize he had wandered back in this direction, but the look he's giving me is pure resentment. Some of the excavators are friendly, but a few, like him, seem offended to have anyone who isn't of fae descent down here.
Which, in a way, I understand. This is their homeland, after all.
"Right. I was just curious," I offer a bright smile, trying to put Brahm at ease.
But the combative fae narrows his eyes at me. "Curious about how big a price things down here would fetch in the mortal world?"
The accusation is so out of nowhere and preposterous that I accidentally laugh. "What? No, I have no interest in?—"
"Don't lie to me. Why else would a walking question mark like you guide these excavations for months without pay? You have to be in it for something. Loot, obviously."
"No. I'm not," I tell him firmly.
He scoffs, still not believing me. "Chancellor Marwood has made it extremely clear that everything down here falls under the ownership of us fae,Elise. If I think you're trying to steal even a speck of dust from this laboratory, I'll report you toMarwood immediately. And believe me, he will not tolerate any insolence toward us fae."
First of all, I don't like the way he says my name, like he doesn't believe it's really mine. No one down here except Silas knows that I'm Everett's sister, but maybe my brother's general protectiveness of me has piqued this guy's suspicion.
But second of all?
"Except the people."
"What?"
"The people in those sarcophagi don't fall under the ownership of anyone," I clarify, ignoring the way my inner animal curls up anxiously in my chest. She hates confrontation and would rather be hiding right now. "Of course, the fae deserve every bit of knowledge down here, but?—"
"Is there a problem over here?" Silas asks calmly, approaching as he rubs dirt from his blackened fingertips.
One glance away from Brahm tells me that some of the other fae are now taking pictures and documenting everything. Others carefully place spells on the scrolls before putting them into a big box that seems to have appeared from nowhere—more magic, probably. The extraction of everything down here has begun, and Everett is distracted with helping.
"She intends to steal from us," Brahm tells Silas, shooting me a distrustful look. "Why a random empath with the ability toliewas made the guide of this group, I want to know. How is she connected to all this, anyway? It's fae business, not hers. We don't trust people like her."
Silas fixes him with a look. "If you're done talking out of your ass, there are scrolls to extract."
Brahm bristles. "I'm telling you, one fae to another, this empath can't be trusted.Or maybe you don't care, and you've got no loyalties anymore, since you're a filthy godsdamned necromancer now."
"Hey, that's not—" I start to defend my brother's quintet member.
"Ignore him," Silas tells me, turning his back on the other fae to examine the ingredients on the shelf beside us. I'm not well-versed in legacy manners, but the way Brahm fumes at the brush-off says a lot. "I'd sooner allow an infant to pick a fight with me. They'd present about the same threat level."
Brahm swears at the blood fae before storming away. As he does, I notice him lift one of his dirt-covered sleeves to tap a marking on his forearm. It starts to glow as he talks to someone through it.
"I think he's complaining to Marwood," I frown.
"I'm sure the chancellor is used to his whining," Silas mutters, still examining the wall. "Tell me, is your ability to see restless spirits another symptom of what they did to you in the Nether?"
His question takes me aback. "Spirits? I don't see?—"
"Everett is distracted, speaking telepathically with our keeper, but he'll tune in soon to come pry. If you'd rather he not know that you see ghosts, just tell me the truth and save us both time."
My lie fizzles out. I sigh, glancing at Athanis. He's still hovering beside us, examining Silas curiously.
"It's not a side effect of the experiments. I bought a necklace to see and hear ghosts…so I could keep talking to my dead friend," I confess quietly, lifting the enchanted necklace out from under the neckline of my shirt so he can see it.
If Silas is judging me for clinging to a ghost, he says nothing about it. He studies the necklace before nodding. "I suppose you purchased it from some fae online."
