Devil below. This was not religion as she’d heard it. This was something…beyond. She huffed a worried laugh and muttered under her breath, “Well, this has gotten out of hand.”
Corvin continued, “Your way of thinking isn’t isolated, of course. But it’s another facet of what Mothlock is trying to achieve with its resources. Our books are distributed widely, and it’s the spreading of that knowledge in which we place the hope of achieving further enlightenment of the country.”
“I don’t understand.”
“The original works. They offer nothing about the true basis of Saints and the Devil. Real mastery isn’t always about becoming the most competent in your brilliance—it’s about knowing when to choose subservience. To realize there’s a chance you may be called to kneel before those who’ve been blessedto become greater. It’s a long, arduous journey for a collective achievement. Sometimes, I cannot believe I’ve been allowed a part in the cause.”
Subservience!Lux had to duck her head so he’d not see her unpleasant reaction. The lending libraries. The bookshops. They’d tampered with themall?
“Corvin,” she began once she could. “There are saints, if you believe in them, and then there are plain, mortal people. You can’t be both.”
He dipped his head. “You’re right. You cannot be both.”
Chapter twenty-seven
Luxcouldhardlyspeakthe remainder of the meal. She’d been thwarted. Of course, she had been. She’d next to no experience in seducing answers out of anyone. It had been poorly done from the start.
Corvin rose from his side of the table, and Lux watched him with new eyes.I followed the saintforsaken zealots, just as she told me not to.She, of course, being Mistress Farrentail. But how was Lux to know this was whom the bespectacled, feathered vendor had meant? The woman certainly hadn’t been specific. She hadn’t even so much as pointed.
Lux felt herself pale as Corvin came around for her chair; she pushed it back on her own before he could grab hold.
“I’ll return you to your room,” he said.
“I know the way,” she replied in a rush, standing.
“Lux.” And then he was there, bending over her, his thumb at the corner of her mouth. Ever so softly, he dragged it beneath her lower lip, and she was too stunned, too frozen athis audacity, she did nothing but blink. “I realize,” he began, his voice roughened, “you’ve been through unfathomable things in your past. Things that have stolen your trust and left you with scars.” His hand dropped away. “But you would find you’re not alone in that here. If you should wish to stay, I’m certain Mothlock would have you.”
“I am nothing close to a saint.” Even saying the words aloud felt ludicrous and even a little nauseating.
“You could be. A master of brilliance in this life. Sainthood into the Beyond.” He straightened. “Just think of all the days we could spend together—I’ve shown you next to nothing yet.” He grinned so boyishly an instant confusion came upon her.
“And I would be fixed?”
“More than fixed.” His eyes shone with excitement. “Stronger than ever before. The greatest necromancer to have ever lived. All it takes is a minor adjustment, the smallest pain, and you will be free from any torment.”
“But you’re not.”
The luster fled his eyes like a flame snuffed. “What?”
“You said you cannot dream.” Lux caught her breath immediately afterward. His face—
“I…” He faltered. He would not meet her eyes. “You are correct.” Suddenly, they lifted, and she felt frozen to the terrace floor. “I should have told you from the start. Maybe you wouldn’t have felt so alone.”
He cleared his throat. “I was born unwhole. And—well—if you are broken, Lux…I am certainly shattered.”
Bythetimetheystood outside her door, Lux knew this would be solidified as one of the worst days of her life. She gazed down the dimly lit corridor while Corvin spoke of the banquet tomorrow and the guests who would soon arrive. She stared at the apparition standing rigid in its center, and it stared back.
You did not tell me there was a third choice,she thought at it.
The nightmare only grinned.
All Lux wanted to do was scream. Instead, she said, “Why is there a tower but no way to it?”
Corvin’s hand ceased its turning of her doorknob. “There was a way to it. It was blocked long ago.” She raised an eyebrow, and his lips lifted. “One of those few places you rightfully inquired after in the carriage; I cannot take you there.” He sobered, however, as he said, “The site of Alixsander Alesso’s death.”
Of course it was.“Corvin. This ritual—if I should agree to it and wish to join your society, what would they—”
“I’m sorry,” he interrupted. “It’s sacred and so we don’t speak it. All I can say is it’s a test of faith.”
