Scarven clapped Malek Mortep on the back. “It makes cleaning up far easier, does it not? Tell me, what did you discover?”
“The dragon and the girl showed up in the thick of it, as you anticipated. They do appear to care for one another.” At Mortep’s words, Scarven snarled, and dread pooled in my stomach. Had this Alchemist been watching the entire fight?
“I must admit, I was skeptical of how all my serums you administered would interact, but it seemed to have a desirable effect,” the Alchemist spoke clinically, keeping his voice measured. “The girl’s magic was out of her control. Ten times stronger and far more deadly. She killed at least ten of our own without blinking.”
Devora shuddered. I looked over to see her grip the edge of the table with a pinched forehead. I instinctively moved to wrap an arm around her waist, but she pulled away.
“And do they suspect anything?” Scarven asked.
“Not that I’m aware of. I expect they’ll be tending to their wounded before realizing anything is wrong.”
Scarven’s dark eyes flashed. “Excellent work. Will our losses cause a delay in the Guardian Forge shipment?”
“No, my lord. Everything is set. We told them to be prepared for arrival in approximately two days.”
“Good.” Scarven rapped his knuckles on the table. “I need those weap?—”
The vision wavered as the last inch of bloodied cloth burned to ash. The fire went out, taking the image of the Hollow with it.
We all stood in silence as smoke curled toward the ceiling.
Milo let out a slow breath. “That man killed Silas.”
“That man has done a lot of things,” Everett grunted. “I remember him. Scarven’s mad Alchemist. We sawhimmore than Scarven himself.” The Illusionist’s jaw shifted. “He used to come into our cells and torture us with his serums, then collect our blood until there was barely enough to keep us alive.”
“What did he inject you with, Devora?” Tessa asked softly,moving to her other side. She reached for Devora, but she jerked away just as she had with me.
“I don’t know.” Devora paused and closed her eyes. “There were several serums, but I don’t know what they did. I—I passed out a lot.” Her voice lowered to a whisper. “I just thought he was taking away my magic. Not—notchangingit.” She looked down at her hands, then wrapped them around her midsection.
What have I done?That was what she’d said to me tonight after killing those men. After her shadows had ravaged both them and her own body, turning her veins and eyes completely black. It was like something had taken over. A cruel, savage version of herself. Had his experiments done this?
Whatelsehad he done?
“He said there’s a shipment. I believe he was going to say ‘weapons’ before the spell cut off,” Kieran said, bringing my focus back. “It’s arriving in two days at somewhere called the Guardian Forge. It’s important to him; that much is obvious. We need to be there.”
I nodded. “This is the first time we have the upper hand. We have to take advantage of it.”
Arowyn tilted her head. “But what’s the play here? We get there and then…what? We don’t know what type of weapons he has or what he’s planning on doing with them. We don’t even know where it is.”
“I do. It’s an abandoned weapon’s forge built into the Guardian Range,” I said. Our previous emperor established stations along each province’s border to be used only in cases of emergencies, or when citizens rebelled against his border guards. It was far north, close to the border between Drakorum and Emberfell.
I gave the Order a shortened version of what Devora and I had done in the capital these last couple of days, including my fears about Scarven imbuing fatesprig into weapons and other objects on a mass scale.
“Great.” Arowyn crossed her arms. “So we get there before his team,wait for them to bring the weapons, destroy the stash, and kill them all. Easy.”
“He’s not simply going to allow anyone to walk right into this forge without precautions in place,” Kieran countered. “He will have defenses. Magical wards. Guards. Plenty of ways forusto get ourselves killed if we are not careful.”
“And besides that, how are we supposed to destroy it all?” Tessa asked.
Milo tapped a finger on the table, next to Silas’s open Grimoire. “We blow it up.”
As one, we all turned to him. Arowyn blinked. “DidMilojust say that?”
“Silas and I—we—” Milo cleared his throat. “We’ve been experimenting with some fire spells. He thought we might need to break into Scarven’s mansion one day, and would need something with a bit more…kick.”
“Yes, because a fire-breathing dragon wouldn’t do the trick,” Tessa said, her voice missing its usual sass.
“It’s an explosive,” Milo continued. “A powerful charm we developed that’s dormant in an object until the spell is spoken and it’s set on fire. It absorbs the fire, then magnifies it times a thousand.” He ducked beneath the table and rummaged for something, then reappeared with a black box. After setting it on the counter, he pulled out a piece of dark red quartz. “We tested a less powerful version down at the shores once. It works.”
