My muscles freeze.
I am a statue in my own body, trapped in the chair, unable to twitch a finger.
“Proceed,” Father says, flicking a hand at the Harts.
Jonquil opens the leather case on the table, revealing a dramatic, curved knife.
It’s the end of the world as you know itstarts playing in my head.
I stare in horror as Joyce shoves the little girl toward me. Jonquil takes her wrist.
No.
Yes.
He slits open her delicate flesh. She hardly makes a sound. Jonquil's grip on her arm keeps the girl upright as dark blood wells up.
Joyce takes my own wrist, retrieves the knife, and the next second, I also have a deep slash in my arm.
Pain burns through my whole body, but I can’t flinch.
Father and Joyce begin an incantation like nothing I’ve heard before. As they chant, a deep red mist swirls out of the little girl’sslashed wrist. Writhing like snakes, it heads directly for my open wound.
My mind screams.
Fuck.
Fuck.
My thoughts turn to Donovan and Wes; Gods, please don’t let me hurt them. And what about Aurora? Whatever I’m being turned into, keep her safe. The mist is almost entering my body as my brain flashes up images of the little dud; crying on her knees, fighting my commands, rubbing oil on my back, covered in lilac sparkles, looking at me with a strange tenderness.
Sorry, Theodora. I don’t know why I was such a cunt to you.
The mist hits my skin.
It feels like ice.
It feels like death.
My body fills with the vapor, and against my will, sucks on it deeply, drinking down every drop.What do you want, Cosmo?
Power and glory…
A pain so deep it feels my soul is being shredded consumes me.
Then I know no more.
???
Oh, shit.
I’m back in Avalon. How the fuck did that happen?
I’m on the dusty floor by Amirene’s feet. I scramble backwards until I can see the whole of the statue-guardian thing. “What the fuck?”
—Oh, Dragon—
The voice in my head sounds so, so sad.
