He might take me to a hospital, or worse, he might call my mother. I don’t want her to worry, and I definitely don’t want anyone to know about what just happened to us. It’s a miracle that we made it out alive…No, it’s because of Dorian and Raven that we’re alive.
“I’m fine, I swear,” I tell the paramedic.
He seems to believe me. There’s nothing wrong with me, physically at least.
Before he can say anything, I leave the ambulance and head straight for Dorian.
When he sees me coming, relief warms his eyes. “Hey,” he says.
“Hey. Are you all right?”
He nods, swallowing thickly. “Yeah, they checked me out. They were pretty confused by all this blood, though.”
“Same,” I say, eyeing the nearby paramedics, who are speaking to each other and looking over at us suspiciously. But this is Sibylline. A lot of weird stuff happens here all the time. They must be used to it.
“Are you…” Dorian trails off, and his gaze lowers, toward where the gashes would be in my back. I pull my shock blanket tighter around my shoulders.
“I’m fine,” I say. “Thank you.”
Dust from the tunnels has turned his hair gray. I like it. It gives him a kind of mature, regal appearance. I have an urge to run my fingers through it, combing it back into place the way he likes it, but I stop myself when his gaze shifts to Raven. She’s still talking to the police officer, holding her own against his questions. Dorian’s gaze softens when he looks at her. He may have saved my life, but his heart still lies elsewhere…I swallow down the hurt that threatens to creep up my throat. He’ll always want her over me. I was never in the running.
“What you did was…” I clear my throat, keeping my voice low. “That day on the subway you told me about…”
Color drains from Dorian’s cheeks.
“You said he woke up after you touched him. So am I the second life you’ve saved?”
There’s silence between us as Dorian sits with the realization.
“Maybe,” he says with a slight smile.
Over his shoulder, I spy a man swiftly approaching. A familiar face stalking toward us through the crowd of people who have gathered at the demolition site. Warden Stone. He’s flanked by two police officers, parting the sea of onlookers. He spots the three of us, unmistakably the ones responsible for all this.
He points to us. “You three. My office.”
—
Warden Stone’s officeis a mess. Papers are stacked in teetering piles on his desk, and boxes litter the floor. Brochures for Old Bones’s new exhibit lie haphazardly on a chair. The room is cold. He’s thrown open the windows, admitting the freezing late autumn air. But the cold isn’t what makes me shiver. I’m still in shock, I think. Raven hugs herself tightly, eyes downcast, but rage and anxiety hum around her, making my skin itch. On my right, Dorian stands tall, his back straight. It’s like he’s trying to reach through the ceiling with the top of his head.
I want to touch both their hands. I want to feel them, to know they’re here, even though they’re right next to me. Warden Stone looks out the window. The sky is gray and the leaves have fallen from the trees, leaving the branches empty. Like skeletal claws they scrape at the slate-colored sky.
“Care to explain to me why you were down there?” Warden Stone asks us.
Dorian catches my eye, as if asking permission. I offer him a single nod, knowing what he’s going to say before he says it.
“Sir, there’s something under the ruins of Arches,” says Dorian. “It tried to kill us.”
“A malum,” Raven adds. “A creature of darkness that was brought to life by magic.”
“A malum?” The warden still doesn’t turn to face us.
I would have liked for him to wheel around, confused, asking us to tell him more. Maybe we could be lauded as heroes who saved the day. But Stone doesn’t even flinch. His hands are clasped tightly behind his back, and the only movement he makes is the slight squeezing of his fingers around his wrist.
Raven continues, unabashed, unapologetic. “We found a chamber, a workshop covered in sigils, and a prison cell. I think someone summoned the malum and bound it to the underground tunnels years ago, but now it’s escaped.”
Again, Stone doesn’t move. I’m not convinced he’s even listening, or maybe…“You know what we’re talking about, don’t you,” I say, realization dawning on me.
“A malum hasn’t been seen on this campus in a hundred years,” Stone says languidly.
