He whistled, and the cart jerked forward. The McDonald with the ax reached up and pulled the iron circle off his neck, followed by the driver. I tried to hear their surface thoughts, but I was inside Alex.
But I had a body.
Wood jabbed my back, my ankle twisted, and pain flared up my arm when I tried to rise.
‘Careful, careful. This body creaks like old wood.’Alex chuckled.‘If you move too fast, it’ll splinter… and then we’ll both be stuck in the cracks.’
A body I couldn’t use. My chest locked, panic clawing at me.
Alex had spent days in Quinn’s head, and now, hours existing in my body. What were the chances he could successfully pretend to be me?
‘High. Very high.’Alex sighed.‘Stop buzzing me. Cayden chatters like a wind-up toy. Faster than Bert. Or Ernie.’
Alex would not do well pretending to be me. Right?
The cart rolled to a stop. Two men gripped my arm and hauled me to my feet. I let Alex’s body go limp. I didn’t know if he usually walked unaided, but I’d make it clear something was wrong. The few in the halls looked away, silent, eyes downcast. As promised, Teivel’s men deposited me at the front of a box, and I sat up enough that I could make out the blurry cage flooded with bright lights.
“And the Architect is trapped in there?” Freya McDonald’s too-sweet voice came from my left.
If she were here, that meant her contract, the head of their family, wasn’t. What were the chances he was leading Alex’s army to descend on The Pit as we spoke?
I needed to warn Ezra, someone.
“Of course, Lady McDonald,” Teivel answered.
I closed Alex’s eyes and forced myself to breathe. Rowan and Cayden were with my body. They had to have noticed that something was wrong. Ezra would try to reach me. I wasn’t alone. Except I was. A raw scream tore from Alex’s throat, mine, and their laughter answered.
Chapter 35
Cayden
Agutturalscreamtorethrough The Pit, twisting my guts, then cut off with a grunt.
I looked over Xan’s head at Rowan. The big elemental’s face pinched, and his chest rose and fell with agitation. I looked back at the side of Xan’s face.
How well did I know the Architect? I’d never asked myself, until now.
Xan loved high concepts, something I appreciated more than I’d admit, but he struggled to stay on topic. Even his most atrocious side stories somehow always came back to where the conversation started. Without fail, he’d follow with a question,shifting focus to someone else, like he needed to apologize for the tangent but didn’t know how.
Not once had this Xan returned to his original topic or pulled us into a new one. At first, I assumed he was splitting his attention between us and Ezra. However, by the time we sat in our box, it was very clear this was someone else.
‘This isn’t Xan,’I said, calmer than I felt.
Rowan exhaled.‘Finally. I thought I was losing my mind.’
“How do you think Quinn’s handling all this?” Not-Xan asked, his voice laced with what almost sounded like genuine worry.
“Like hell,” I said.‘Play along. This must be Alex. I’ll be back,’I ordered Rowan.
“Like bloody hell,” Rowan doubled down on what I said. “Quinn doesn’t judge. She’s been through enough, before us, with us, and now this?”
While Rowan unloaded probably everything both of us wanted to say and more onto the man pretending to be Xan, I slipped away.
There was only one other mentalist that I knew of here, and unless Teivel was hiding his pet mentalist, their box was somewhere at the top. The repairs on the cauldrons continued. The talking in the boxes grew in volume. Some budding entrepreneur started hawking snacks.
As I walked, I drew my runes for strength, stealth, and speed. Each one sank into my muscles. No one noticed me as I peeked from one heavy beige curtain to another, looking for coal-black or mud-red hair.
The lights changed, and the crowd gasped.
