The betrayal cuts deeper than I thought possible, a searing pain that leaves me breathless. But beneath the hurt, something else stirs.
Anger.
It burns low and hot in my chest, a steady flame that grows with each passing second. I clench my fists, my nails digging into my palms as I force myself to breathe.
It’s not long before the Eagle appears. The satisfied expression on his face makes my teeth grind and my hands ball into fists.
I remain in my hiding spot until his dark silhouette disappears. And then I wait even longer to be sure he has no intention of returning before I slip from the shadows.
I test the handle of the door, but I’m not surprised to find it locked. Kneeling, I slip the lockpick from my holster and angle it into the keyhole. As soon as I hear the satisfying sound of the latch bolt releasing, I’m on my feet and slipping inside.
The faint scent of smoke hovers in the air but the room is lit only by the fading light shining through the windows.
In the room’s privacy, I allow myself a bitter smirk as I head straight to the desk and the stack of parchment that wasn’t there during our debrief. Just as I expected, Lord Malis’s arrogance and self-assured belief that no one would dare enter his study without invitation made him careless.
I lift the first page and angle it toward the window. When the lingering light pools on its surface, my heart stops.
The smirk slides from my face, and I struggle to draw air into my lungs.
It’s a detailed sketch of two bodies lying side by side, a complicated series ofgoiteíadrawn on both. While I can identify the markings for drain, transfer, and absorb, many of the symbols are ones I don’t recognize.
But it isn’t thegoiteíathat causes my reaction. It’s the words written at the top of the page, their inked forms bleeding into the parchment like an ill omen.
An Instructional Guide forTheïkósTransference
With a shaky hand, I place the parchment back on the desk and sift through the others. My heart climbs farther up my throat with each line of text I scan. When I reach the last page, my eyes pause on the jagged handwriting scrawled off to the side.
Theïkós transference has proven to be a complex and mostly unsuccessful endeavor. I can only conclude that there are unknown factors which need to be discovered relating to the compatibility between the vessel and the theïkós they receive. In all attempts thus far, the mortality rate has been high, with only one successful case of transference. In all attempts, once the theïkós was completely drawn from the original bearer, the death of the vessel was immediate.
I stare at the words, my own suppressed magic curling up inside me.
To steal someone’stheïkós…the very thought of it is abhorrent. But I know without a doubt that’s what Lord Malis is planning to do. Steal Xan’s magic and no doubt claim it for his own.
My thoughts flash to the silver-haired man, and I see him as clearlyas if he were right before me now, collared and bound behind the bars of a cage. My fingers drift toward the scar at my throat, and I wince at the phantom pain that follows. What if this had been my fate? What if the Eagle had learned my secret somehow and decided he wanted to take it from me? Could I let that very thing happen to another?
As the frantic thoughts chase one another through my mind, I tidy the parchments, ensuring they’re left as I found them.
Of one thing, I am certain.
If I want to save him, I need a plannow.
By the time I makeit back to my room, my mind is a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts. I kick the door shut and lean against it, closing my eyes as I try to force the chaos within into some semblance of order. The room’s familiar scent washes over me, and I’m struck by how little time has truly passed since I was last here. Dried lavender, parchment, the lingering smell of smoke from the oil lantern—it’s both comforting and foreign, like stepping into a memory I’m not sure I belong to anymore.
The moment my eyes open, the fleeting comfort vanishes. Raven stands against my desk, his gaze searing into me like a brand.
“We need to talk, Starling.” The warm cadence of his voice wraps around me, but the words—his presence—make my shoulders stiffen.
“What do we need to talk about?” I push off from the door. My hands move to take off my cloak, but I hesitate at the clasps, the image of the silver scar at my throat charging to the front of my mind. Cursing under my breath, I tear it off and throw it over the armchair in the corner of my room, putting my back to Raven in the process.
“Perhaps about what exactly happened after I left you in that gods-forsaken palace,” he growls.
I sit down and unlace my boots, feigning intense concentration on the task. “You know what happened. Myna just spoke about it in the debrief.”
“If something else happened to you, I—”
I don’t let him finish. The tension that has been growing within mefinally reaches a breaking point, and I snap. Before I can even take my next breath, I’m standing before him. “You’ll what, Raven? You’ll ride back there? Take vengeance for me? Stop lying to me, and stop lying to yourself.”
“Star—”
