"It's a long way north. But anything is possible."
"Gods." Margot shivers as we round the corner. "Imagine making that journey through here."
This passage is different. The air shifts. It's not the same stillness as the Shroud, but it's close. By the way everyone slows, I know I'm not the only one who feels it.
Cold brushes the back of my neck. I freeze.
We've been waiting for your return, empath.The voice is inhuman. It speaks directly into my mind.
I bite my tongue to keep from screaming. My eyes lock on Malachi and I yank on the bond. Hard. He stops instantly. Everyone stops with him.
He turns. His eyes sweep the tunnel before landing on Kage. A nod passes between them. Malachi holds my gaze for a moment, then he turns and keeps moving.
Something lands on my back. I barely swallow my shriek.
"Just me," Kage breathes against my ear. "Give me your lantern. Walk straight to Bain. I'll guide you." His shadow settles over my shoulders like a cloak. "Don't look back. Don't touch the walls."
Heart pounding, I nod and surrender the lantern. The shadows guide me forward, threading me between my friends until I reach Malachi. He doesn't look at me. He simply lifts his arm and tucks me against his side. The motion is swift. Sure. As if we've done this a thousand times before.
"Did you see this?" Draven's voice is barely audible as he lifts his lantern to the wall.
We all stop and turn towards it.
"What the … " Naima raises her own light. "Are those memory stones?"
"Something's growing over them," Draven murmurs. "Vines, maybe."
I stare, trying to make sense of it. Memory stones. There are hundreds of them, maybe thousands, embedded in the wall. And covering each one, thin black lines spreading outward like veins. Margot pokes my back and points down.
My breath catches. The black lines cover the floor. They spread in all directions like a spiderweb. Or the roots of a tree. They climb the stairs leading up to the Hall of Gratitude. They snake down the dark hallway to our left.
They're everywhere.
Everyone swings their lanterns toward the hallway.
The light reaches the darkness. And the darkness reaches back.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
My friends scream. I can't make a sound. Two pairs of glowing eyes approach through the darkness. Four more blink open behind them.
The Shroudmaidens stop. One steps forward, separating from the rest. No one moves. I feel Malachi pass his lantern to someone behind him. See his hand drift toward Vida's hilt.
Through the bond, I feel the crackle of his energy. The restlessness coiled beneath his calm exterior. It reminds me of Jordi, but different. Jordi's energy is reactive, sharp movements born from contained anger. Malachi's is deliberate. Controlled. Honed by centuries of patient vengeance.
At the edges of my vision, Kage's shadows coil. Margot's gray smoke rises beside them. Both ready. Both waiting.
The Shroudmaiden lifts an arm. Extends a long, crooked finger. The limb shifts as I watch. First smoke, like Kage's shadows.
Then bone. Then flesh, cycling through colors: green-blue, gray, leathery brown like my skin, olive like Margot's. As if it's trying on bodies. Remembering what it was. None of us breathe.
"We only want her."
The finger points at me.
Malachi's arm tightens around my waist. "You can't have her."
The Shroudmaiden's eyes pulse. It lowers its hand. Stares.
