Let me out.
The voice, whatever it was, had asked Eximius to let it out as well.
I looked back at the amulet. Every instinct I had was urging me to shrink away from it, to put distance between it and myself. I’d been right. There was something wholly unnatural about that necklace, somethingwrong,but I was an academic. I faced problems head on with the knowledge and skills I needed to solve them. I knew what I needed to do, despite every part of me rebelling at the prospect. A hypothesis wasn’t a truth until it could be repeated, I knew that from some of the finest scholars of our time. My mind was associating my touching the amulet with that voice because the two events had happened simultaneously, but it could be unrelated. I hadn’t slept well last night so maybe I’d imagined the voice. Maybe someone out in the hall had been speaking and I’d internalized it in my distracted state. Maybe the mystery of the necklace was getting to me. Either way, I needed to hear it again to be sure I’d ever heard it at all.
Taking a breath and doing everything in my power to steady my shaking hands, I reached out once more. The moment my fingertips brushed the glowing gem, I heard him.
Don’t run again, child. I can help you see the light.
I released the necklace at once. Shaking and muttering incoherently, I began rifling through my desk drawers. After a few moments of pushing aside old letters and half dried ink pens, I found a little frilly blue handkerchief. Draping it over my hand to diminish contact between myself and the amulet, I reached out and took the necklace in hand. Then, without wasting a moment, I fled from my office in a manic fit, ignoring everyone in my way as I went.
“Sir, I have the–sir?”
I didn’t even glance Paxon’s way as I breezed past him and down the hall toward the residential wing. My eyes remainedfirmly affixed to the necklace in my hand as I carried the strange gem and its disembodied voice all the way to my own room.
Isla leapt out of her chair when I burst in, abandoning the vanity table she’d been sitting at out of concern for my obvious state.
“Milo?” she asked, brow furrowed. “What in the Geist’s name–”
“I heard it, Isla,” I told her, only partially aware of what I was saying. “The voice. Eximius’ voice. I heard it. I–here. Tell me what you hear. Tell me what he says to you.”
I thrust the necklace out in a hand and she looked down at it, confused.
“Is this for me?” she asked, reaching for it.
I just froze, waiting for her fingers to make contact with the metal, waiting for it to speak to her too.
She picked it up gently, turning it over in her hand. I held my breath. But then she met my gaze and asked, “Can you help me put it on?”
She reached back to gather her hair up and grant access to her neck. I just blinked at her as she turned around.
“Help you…” I started, unable to say more.
“It’s beautiful, Milo,” she informed me, dangling it from a finger by the chain as she held it out for me to take. “And it’s about time you gave me your wedding present. Would you mind clasping it on for me?”
I just stared at her back as she presented it to me, the realization crashing over me in waves.
Isla hadn’t heard the voice.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Olympia
“Are you enjoying the view of my ass following me around like this?”
Harrison’s voice boomed too loudly over the cobblestones as he wiggled his hips and turned to suggestively pump his brows in my direction. I rolled my eyes and met his gaze with a firm glare. Shouting at me about looking at his ass in a sea of Third Ringers on their way to first shift wasn’t exactly the level of discretion Milo had requested. Then again, Harrison probably shouted at everyone about looking at his ass, anything to draw attention to himself.
“I’m here to take you to the Deck,” I growled when I caught up to him, which was no easy feat given how considerably longer his strides were compared to mine.
His good humor vanished in an instant and he stopped walking at once, turning to look at me through thinly veiled disgust.
“Do you actually think the snake will get what’s coming to him?” he asked at a volume that was still far too loud for myliking. “Is there anything that passes for justice for First Ringers in this city?”
“Harrison,” I warned.
“I know.”
He held his hands up in surrender and turned toward the nearest set of stairs; the eastern ones, the ones closest to his apartment. I followed a few steps behind him the same way I had for over a week now, conscious of keeping appearances as Milo had commanded.
