He didn’t answer. His chest heaved.
“I’ve been caged all my life, Cagliostro. It was always someone else who held the key. And everything I’ve ever wanted was freedom. Funny, but it took me all my life to realize what freedom is.”
I knelt beside him. The scent of his power—once overwhelming—now smelled like dust. Like rot. Like something already fading.
The silence clung to my skin. Even the screams of the patients had muffled as if St. Dismas were waiting.
“It’s what you choose. Freedom is what you choose to become.”
Behind me, the Dusk Roads opened with a breathless hiss.
Orren stumbled out first, eyes wild, looking for something to kill. Camille followed, blood trickling from the corners of her mouth. She saw me and rushed to me. “Daphne, are you okay—” Then her brows climbed up. She saw it, too.
Maerya stepped out of the portal last, her shadow filling the room and consuming the scarce lantern light.
The Renegade shuffled when he saw them. I tightened the magical noose around him, and his eyes turned into his skull. Then he stilled.
The three towered above him, studying him as if he were some rare animal.
“What now?” Camille asked, her tone as casual as ever. She nudged the Renegade with her boot. “Do we kill him?”
“Can’t,” Orren said. “He’s one of us. Or something like us. Killing him would be hard.” He tapped his foot, thinking. “I know. There are thousands of terrible options. I say dismember him, and lock his parts into boxes, scatter them all over the world.” Camille nodded with enthusiasm.
“Lock him up,” Maerya murmured thoughtfully. “I know just the place. A chamber, deep beneath the desert that even the dead avoid. Let him rot there.”
Camille tilted her head toward Vexley’s crumpled form. “And what about that one?”
I glanced down. Dear Lord, I’d nearly forgotten about the cruel doctor. His chest was still rising, his eyelids twitching.
“We leave him,” I said darkly. “To his patients.”
With a flick of my fingers, the asylum doors groaned open.
St. Dismas answered the call. Dragging steps filled the cold corridors.
Jeremiah—the boy he’d tormented—entered first. The wounds on his temples were still bleeding. He didn’t speak. Didn’t hesitate. Just stepped into the room with eyes full of silence. More followed.
I turned away.
Let them have their justice.
Behind me, Orren knelt beside Emrys.
“Should I kiss you like Sleeping Beauty?” he muttered and slapped Emrys hard across the cheek. “Wake up, you arrogant bastard. It’s time for the best part. Vengeance.”
Emrys groaned.
My chest eased for the first time in what felt like hours.
“Maerya.” Camille turned to the older woman. “Care to show us to that chamber?”
Maerya smirked. “With pleasure. Take us back to the Sphinx.”.
Emrys
One of us
My body was fighting against whatever poison Vexley injected me with.
