His eyes narrow a fraction for only a second. “Ah, yes… The ones you saw in the automaton.” I can only assume the inquisitors told him. The vicar’s smile widens. “Do not be so modest. You know as well as I that one sigil was to draw Etherlight but not apply it, and the other was for armor.”
“My father always said I was a great artificer in the making—just like Valor was said to be. I must’ve made something new, by accident.” Continuing to object to him isn’t a good idea for my well-being, but allowing him to think what he’s clearly thinking feels equally dangerous.
“Don’t be so modest, Isola. You bent the essence of life itself to your will.” The vicar looks right through me, as if pulling back the curtains to peer into my soul. “You are so very close to claiming our destiny.”
Ourdestiny. I say nothing. I can’t imagine what he wants to hear, so I keep my mouth shut. I’ve never seen this side of the vicar, and I thought I’d seen everything.
He leans forward, light shadowing the deep wrinkles of his face. “Now, show me.”
“I… I can’t.”
Vicar Darius leans away. “You would dare defy me?”
“No,” I say. His stare sparks something in me, a survival instinct. My palms are clammy with sweat. “Of course not. I don’t know what I did, not really. And even if I did, I’m too exhausted. I—”
Vicar Darius grabs my cheeks so hard my lips pucker. He towers over me, eyes shadowed yet gleaming with something I can’t place. It’s not malice, but it is the opposite of kindness. It’s desire but not lust. It’s something that puts the taste of bile in theback of my throat. An expression sweeter than the scent of roses and twice as putrid as decay.
Run, that primal instinct within me whispers.
But there’s nowhere for me to go. I’m trapped in a room, alone with this man. Part of me searches for a way out, envisioning a sprint to the door. The other part of me wants to reach for the magic I might have just found andfight.
I’m trapped, suspended between the two and exhaustion. The only thing I know for sure is that I want it to be over. I want this moment to be done and gone—to be free of him and everything he represents.
“Show. Me,” the vicar snarls through clenched teeth.
My heart quickens. “I can’t.” The words are as harsh as steel across stone. Scraping the corners of my mouth where his fingers press on my cheeks. “I’m too tired. I’m sorry. Please.”
“So, you’d like it to be the hard way, then.” He releases me and slowly steps back, composed and calm.
“Vicar Darius, if I could, I would. I swear it.” I don’t even know if it’s the truth, but the drive to protect myself has me bartering and begging him.
“You responded to pressure well.”Does he mean the scourge? Was Lucan right and he really did sabotage our room?I’ve always known the vicar to be a man who would do anything to achieve his goals. But I never thought he’d actually do something that could harm Vinguard. That could kill me.“Let’s test it again.”
He knocks on the door, and it opens. Two Mercy Knights step in. Their hoods are drawn like the inquisitors. I resist the urge to plead for any kindness.
Mercy is death.
Cruelty means you are still breathing.
So I take a deep breath and brace.
31
The two Mercy Knights pin me to the floor with ease. My arms and back slam into the cold stone. Inside, I’m all molten panic. I’m torn between trained submission and the need to fight back.
My exhaustion makes the choice for me.
“I swear,” I plead to whatever humanity is locked behind the vicar’s hungry eyes. “I swear I cannot summon Etherlight right now. Give me time.Please.” My voice cracks.
The knights look to the vicar, who merely nods. Vicar Darius rounds me slowly, staring as if I am another piece of a dragon carcass for carving up. As he does, he speaks, and one of the knights begins dragging chalk along the stone surrounding me. The other stands, placing his armored boot upon my wrist. He doesn’t press down hard enough to wound me, but I know he would if needed.
“I saw the remnants of what you did in there.” The vicar’s voice is low and ominous. “I see the markings on you. You turnedyourselfinto an artificer sigil.” He crouches down and drags one of his bony fingers along the crusted, crimson line of dragon blood on my shoulder. “It would’ve killed anyone else. But not you, my Valor. Not you…”
I’m inside another sigil, I realize as I lower my eyes to the lines the knight continues to draw on the stone around me. The vicar is going to try to force me to draw Etherlight through my body again. Even if it didn’t kill me before, it surely will now.
I stare up at Vicar Darius in horror. But there are no words. Any further pleading will only make things worse.
“Begin.” The vicar stands and takes a full step back.
