“I would take that,” I said. “Or, Ezra can blacken your other eye.”
My lover grinned.
The man snarled but stepped to the side.
After two more turns, the road ended at a long, narrow square. The Assembly Hall wasn’t a fortress like mine; it was art, crumbling and defiant, gargoyles glaring down as if judging intruders.
A few bridges connecting nearby buildings glowed in shades of tan, nearly disappearing against the cloudy sky. We chose a direction and rode on, searching for a main entrance.
We didn’t have to go far.
A man in his early fifties stood with his arms crossed over his chest in front of a large double door studded with gold. The hilt of a comically large claymore protruded from his back. He would be a monster, even compared to Rowan. A massive, jagged scar ran from his jaw down his throat. Unlike the collection of studded leather we’d seen so far, this man wore a thick set of canvas cargo pants and a sleek white button-down shirt covered by a brown waistcoat. Thick, curly, raisin-colored hair adorned his head and matched his glowing eyes.
I’d never met the man who ran The Pit, but I knew his description, and this had to be him. Silas, The Pit Master.
Silas raised a hand. “I’m assuming you’ve come to see Quinn?”
“I have,” I answered, dismounting and walking toward him.
Ezra flanked me, leaving our well-trained mounts with their reins on the ground.
Silas grinned. “Why?”
I came to a stop right in front of him and held out my hand. “My name’s Alexander.”
“I know your name, Architect. Commander Ezra’s too.” Silas didn’t uncross his arms. “Quinn’s got a lot to say about both of you. But your name wasn’t my question.”
I inclined my head, and my mind raced. This was a test. Silas implied Quinn had confided in him, but I couldn’t picture it. Whatever he was looking for couldn’t be information.
“Why do I want to see Quinn?” I confirmed his question, stalling and letting my magic pick up on his surface thoughts.
Blood. Rivers of it running across The Pit invaded my magic. I quickly pulled back. He’d dealt with mentalists before; the best defense was focusing on a vivid memory. Unless I actually dug into his mind, I could only see what he presented.
Not slipping. I hadn’t invaded, only skimmed the surface. Some people were better at reading body language than others.This was the same. Slipping would be invading his mind, something I had no interest in doing.
“She needs us,” Ezra said into my silence.
I nodded. “I need to find a way to get Alex’s collar off her.”
Silas frowned. “Then you can’t see her.”
His refusal sliced deep. Ezra reached for his sword; I blocked him.
“Is there a reason you’re refusing us?” I asked.
Silas uncrossed his arms. “I feel like it?”
My eyes widened, and I leaned forward in disbelief.
Silas shook his head and studied me. “You truly chose not to use your mind magic.” He crossed his tree trunks for arms over his chest. “And you believed me without question. How much did you pay at the first toll?”
“Over.” I bit out.
“And the blockade?” he asked.
I wrinkled my nose. “I didn’t blacken his other eye.”
“Gullible, but not stupid, then.” Silas motioned toward our horses. “I suggest you return via the East toll to avoid both a second time. Do you need an escort?”
