“I am the last surviving Rooke. The Butcher needs my blood to bind his magic to the Triune. He will drain me like a pig, until there is not a drop left in my body and when I am dead, the magic of the Triune will be his forever.”
His eyes narrowed. “Now figure out how to get those fucking artifacts so I can bury that bastard under his cursed castle.”
I stood, my leathers creaking, and offered Rooke my hand. “You have a deal.”
23
RYLAND
The world lurched as Varian’s magic yanked us through the space between the island and our destination.
For one heartbeat, I couldn’t see, couldn’t even breathe, tasting a hint of frosted rain, then we stood in the cold, dim interior of a tomb-like hallway smelling of death and damp stone.
Gravespire.
I pulled Lyrae deep into the shadows with me, her sharp eyes scanning the corridor, like me, measuring the distance to the closest exit, Varian slipping to my other side, without a single word spoken between us. Smooth and silent, out of sight of any guards in under two seconds.
Faster than we ever could have a hundred years ago, and a testament to the lives we’ve all led in between now and then.
Exhilarating, to be hiding in the dark again, the thrill of the hunt burning in my veins.
“Just like old times,” Lyrae murmured, excitement brightening her eyes and I couldn’t stop my grin, couldn’t help the flash of fierce joy at the rightness of the three of us together again.Thieving.
“We’re past the guards. They have no idea we’re inside,”Varian murmured. His bruised knuckles tightened around his dagger, his face still a shade too pale from the exertion of carrying us both here. “I can’t believe I had to follow a fucking crow.”
“Birds have an excellent sense of direction.” Lyrae’s lips quirked. “That’s what I’ve heard, anyway.”
I looked away to keep from laughing. “Stop it, you two. Remember, this trip is recon only. Ten minutes to confirm the Triune is here, then we head back to the island.” Every breath left a plume of fog hanging in the heavy air, thankfully remaining in the shadows, but we’d have to be more careful as we went deeper.
The interior of Gravespire was no less menacing than its name.
Black stone walls loomed around us, carved with ancient glyphs that seemed to writhe in the flickering torchlight. Every corridor was rounded at the top, each stone chiseled by a primitive hand. I didn’t know what this place was a temple to, but the air reeked with a thick, metallic tang, like ozone before a storm.
“Such a lovely place. Too bad we don’t have time for sightseeing,” Lyrae muttered, keeping her voice low and a knife in one hand. “The artifacts—are they here, Var?”
“Of course, I have to do all the work.” Closing his eyes, sweat beaded on his forehead as he cast his magic, fingers twitching at his sides. If he wasn’t worn down to the bone, this would have been simple, but my friend was conserving his magic for the return trip, and he had so very little to begin with in this place. A faint ripple of energy pulsed through the air, setting my teeth on edge, then his eyes snapped open.
“They’re here. But…” He paused, a frown creasing his brow. “They’re shielded by such a powerful ward, I can barely sense their presence. As if they are tucked inside some sort of void.”
I tightened my grip on my sword, its hilt warm against my palm. “Then we figure out which room they’re stored in and try to get eyes on the marks. Once we confirm all three are here, we’ll figure out how to access them. Once we have that intel, we’ll get a head count on the guards, then we’re out.”
Standard operating procedure, and something we’d done a hundred times before.
“There’s another thing.” Varian scanned the empty hall. “Only a handful of guards are outside, not the army Rooke claimed guarded this place.”
“We’ll chalk that up to good timing, then,” I murmured, though there was seldom such a thing as luck in our business. As for time…we had to make this fast.
I didn’t like this place.
Down this deep, the shadows seemed to come alive, every corner full of a hungry quiet that seeped beneath my skin, cold and unforgiving, much worse than the soundless dark echoing from somewhere down the corridor. Not footsteps—no, nothing so mundane—more like ancient voices sighing, the laments of the cursed, the whispering of the dead.
“Don’t waste time,” I muttered, the hair on the nape of my neck standing straight up. “No distractions.”
Lyrae nodded, prowling down the corridor as we flanked her, every soft step echoing faintly off the stone, a whisper of sound. Corridor after corridor, we followed Varian through a veritable labyrinth of twisting turns, every bend leading to another identical stretch of echoing, shadowed passageway.
“What if we find them and have the chance to break the wards?” Lyrae’s soft question skated over me, leaving ashiver of dread behind. “Tell me we’re not walking away empty-handed today.”
“Greed gets us caught,” I reminded her, just as quietly. “Recon only. I mean it, Ly.” I added, forcing myself not to grab her arm and yank her back as she stepped ahead of me, forced myself not to tell Varian to call off this entire thing and fly her back to the Citadelle where she’d be safe.
