Maeve stopped. Kietel opened his mouth to continue.
But his eyes went wide. Magic slammed into the foyer with a fury. Black and amethyst fire swarmed around them. Maeve’s knees gave way, slamming her sideways into the ground.
From the violet flames erupted Reeve.
Lethal rage poured from his eyes, and all of it directed at Kietel.
Maeve’s attention shot to Mal. He was still unconscious on the other side of the foyer.
Reeve’s face twisted into something unholy. She felt the raw magic that was seconds away from bursting from him.
She made to move for Mal but. . .
Her jaw fell open as Reeve transformed.
She had never seen those fearsome wings and claws herself. In an instant Reeve was part man, part mist and shadow. Great black dragon wings unfurled from his back. His fingers scaled and sharp.
He was incredible.
He was Holy.
Reeve snarled. And Maeve remembered Mal.
But Kietel’s attention was not on Reeve.
Sharp blades locked into her arms, pulling her backwards. She pointed two fingers, but it was too late. Maeve winced as her back slammed into a hard chest. Kietel stood behind her. One hand gripping her right wrist high, and the other flat across her throat, power flickering from his palm, threatening to slice at any moment.
Reeve snarled in divine hatred.
He, and the foyer at Vaukore, vanished before she could blink.
Chapter 35
The floor was cold, wet and slimy. But it was the scent that filled Maeve’s nose before her eyes opened that caused her to gag. She tried to bolt upright, but her whole body felt full of lead, and her head spun as she lifted it off the grotesque floor with a groan. It was completely black save for a small slit of light pushing it’s way through a tall slit in what appeared to be a door.
Another inhale and that retched smell hit her again. Like rotted meat that had melted under the heat of the sun. Her hand shot to her face to cover her nose, and something steel and cold bristled her jawline.
Tight metal cuffs wrapped her wrists, each one set with three white stones.
No.
Fear spread through her, so intense she didn’t notice the droplets of water falling to the floor from her soaked hair, nor the dirty brown water that flowed in from the corner behind her, soaking through her pajamas and wetting her skin.
Her sapphire ring on her finger was gone.
She gasped-
She gripped at her chest. Mal’s ring lay still. Cool, magic radiating from it.
Mal.
She searched for him, to feel any pull of his soul, but the white stones had dulled nearly all of her magic. And merely trying to push out a search for his life force made her stomach flip again and again.
Muffled voices filled the tight space. She looked towards the metal door. Shadows moved on the other side through the small slit between the floor and the door. The door to the cell creaked open.
A Magical Militia solder stepped inside. He was in a different uniform. One of red. But she recognized him. He had called her a blood traitor.
“Up,” he said.
