“Us?” Felix asked.
“We can demand she call off Ashcroft and his ministry.” He ran his hand over his beard. “Hells, we can name whatever price we like before releasing him.”
With a frown, Felix said, “I’m not releasing him.”
Gideon took another swig, then screwed the lid back on the flask. “You’re right. Why hand him over when we can use him?” His lips curved into a sharp grin. “Most our troubles are in Fallowmoor, aren’t they? So, we use what he can do. Insteadof fixing the veil, we make him tear the thing wider. End this whole mess once and for all. We’ve a rare chance here, Felix. The resistance has a weapon no one’s the faintest clue how to deal with.”
A sharp, possessive anger flickered through Felix. August was his. Not theirs. “I thought you didn’t want to get involved.”
“I’d be an idiot to ignore a chance like this.”
“So, your plan kills every wielder in Fallowmoor. That’s grand. Corpses make fine soldiers.”
Gideon sighed. “Alright, point taken.”
“The crown will be mine soon,” Felix said. “Then I’ll happily resolve our issues myself. The gallows are about to see plenty of use.”
Gideon gave a low chuckle. “You really are mad.” He paused, then added, “But if this godsforsaken country can be saved, you’re just stubborn enough to do it.”
“I don’t want to save the country,” Felix replied grimly. “I want to save my people. Everyone else can hang, for all I care.”
“Then I guess pray to Geocraes and hope he has your back.” Gideon climbed slowly off the ground. “You’ll need luck on your side for this one.”
Felix scoffed. He wasn’t praying to the god of fortune, nor to any other deity. If the gods did exist, he would sooner die than hand over any level of control to one. Control was everything.
“Go on now,” Gideon said. “Get some shut-eye. Benjamin’s upstairs, keeping watch.”
Felix let his head rest against the stone wall and wrapped the locket in a fist. The aesling didn’t need the front door to escape, and Felix doubted he’d ignore the chance to run.
He had to stay awake.
His eyes drifted involuntarily to August. If it weren’t for the rise and fall of his chest, Felix might have thought him a corpse.If he were to die here, would the veil close on its own? Was it only held open because of him?
Unlikely. It would probably keep spreading forever until everything was gone.
Don’t die, he thought.Or I will find a way to drag you back.
They needed to hurry. He flexed his fingers, trying to shake the sudden wave of restlessness.
“Will you stop?” August mumbled, his eyes still closed.
“What am I doing?” asked Felix.
“You’re stirring the air.”
He frowned at the unexpected response. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
August was quiet a moment, then opened his eyes to stare up at the ceiling. “The air always hums around you. It’s subtle, but constant. When your emotions spike, it gets stronger. Like the air’s echoing what you feel.”
August had never mentioned that before. Was it new? Was it something to do with Felix’s magic or his? Maybe both? He focused, trying to feel what August felt, but the only thing vibrating the air around him was snoring.
“I won’t be a weapon,” said August.
Felix responded with a wry look. “You can’t control your power. You’d make a terrible weapon.”
August closed his eyes. He was quiet for so long, Felix thought he’d fallen back asleep. Then he whispered, “I killed a lot of people, didn’t I?”
The question sparked through Felix’s nerves like a fuse, igniting a sequence of terrible images. He didn’t want to talk about this. Didn’t want to think about that night. He’d locked that memory away with all the other things he worked so hard to forget.
