But all I see is Vicar Darius. His crimson blood that stains the altar and the Ether around us emits a noxious haze like the scourge, as though this whole time he has been rotting from within. He was the real blight that beset our city.
A hand closes around mine, yanking me away from the vicar’s corpse. I’m swung around and find myself face-to-face with Lucan. His other hand rises, cupping my cheek.
“Isola…” he breathes.
“It’s over… It’s finally over,” I whisper, even as the world around us crumbles. Even as my knees threaten to give out.
“No.” Lucan’s eyes are wide enough to encompass all the horrors of the world. “It’s only just beginning.”
I open my mouth, but no words come. The ground continues to shudder.
“We have to go.” Without another word, he shifts to my side and wraps an arm around my waist, supporting me. I might be healed by some miracle, but I am utterly exhausted.
“Go where?” I’m in a daze. The others are waiting with equally panicked expressions.
“Far from here.” Lucan pulls me quickly through the chapel, and the others flank us. The Mercy Knights are struggling to stand and can do nothing to stop us. The one on the ground isstill breathing, but they’re thin, raspy breaths. His cheeks are sunken.
“We must help them.” I tug Lucan’s hand. “We can’t leave. Vinguard needs us.”
No sooner have I said as much as than unfamiliar man shouts, “She killed the vicar!”
“She… What’s happening came from her! The vicar tried to kill her to save us.” One of the Mercy Knights is struggling to her feet.
“No. You don’t understand. Vinguard is a sigil. It was Valor who made it—who made the Font.”
“Heresy!” Another curate appears in the doorframe. They must be running from the square outside.
“I know what I’m saying is hard to believe, but—”
“Isola Thaz impersonated Valor Reborn to kill the vicar!”
The curate lunges for us. Luckily, he’s unarmed, and Lucan deflects him, pulling me away. Ember launches in, Pia not far behind. Myla and Dazni on our sides, regarding the other curates warily.
“Isola, I know you want to help,” Lucan says softly but hastily, eyes flicking around, assessing every threat closing in on us as a low rumbling shakes the ground ominously beneath us. “But I don’t think they’re going to listen.”
“We have no other choice.” We’re backed into a corner. A whole city who is going to see us as the enemy outside. “We must make them believe.”
“We have one other choice.”
Lucan’s words catch Pia’s attention. She shifts back, fists still up, and locks eyes with Lucan. “Are you sure?” Her voice is tight with worry.
“I’m not sure about anything. But we don’t have any other option.” Lucan wears an expression of sheer determination, eyes narrowed and jaw hard.
“Are we getting out how I think we are?” Myla’s eyes dart between the other ashborn. She nearly vibrates with excitement. It’s far more energy than I have left in my tired bones.
“Myla, now is not the time to sound like you’re about to get sugarcane,” Ember says dryly. Pia just shoots Myla a look.
“I have been wanting to see this foryears.” Myla gestures to Lucan. “He’s the one.”
“No. Not me.” Lucan leaves no room for doubt as he looks at me. “It’s Isola. It’s always been Isola. Every credit, every praise, and every hope is her.”
I rub my stomach where the wound should be. Where there is mended flesh and not even an ache. I instinctively wielded magic I don’t even comprehend.
The ashborn carve us a path through the curates strong enough to stand outside to the courtyard in front of the Grand Chapel. A few punches are thrown. But it’s mostly shoving and brandishing of Mercy daggers. There’s a reason why the Creed has Mercy Knights to uphold its teachings—the curates hardly put up a fight.
It’s easier than I would’ve expected because most of the curates are on the ground, wailing in pain like the Mercy Knights inside the chapel. They’ve crawled to the stairs, but one or two didn’t make it. A man and a woman lie on the ground, eyes blank, skin shriveled as though all the life has been drained from them.
Lucan pauses to release me, waiting to completely let go until I find my feet. “Wait here.”
