“It’s you.” She blinks. “Rohhit.”
Carobon steps closer, brushing off his unease, extending his hand. “Do you think you can save him, Fenmore? Do you think you can pull him back from the depths of his own mind?”
She slowly nods and steps forward.
“Fenmore, fucking stop!” Silas shouts.
I rush to Fen and grab her hand. “That isn’t Rohhit. I know it’s hard, but you have to focus.”
“I can’t.”
“You can’t save him if you are dead,” I plead.
Carobon laughs. “Gods, always so dramatic. I don’t want to kill her. I just want to make sure that she can’t call to him any longer. Do you know how annoying it is to always have her voice traveling through my mind?”
Fenmore barely manages to blink, never taking her eyes off the man in front of her.
“He can hear me,” she whispers, her green eyes finally finding mine. “I think he’s been able to hear me this whole time.”
“Focus,” I whisper.
She swallows hard and looks back in his direction. I look into her eyes and can see the sorrow swimming in them.
“Rohhit.” Tears pool in her eyes. “Can you hear me?”
“Enough.” Carobon extends his hand once more. “Now come along, or they will die.”
She steps forward, as if the pull is too strong to ignore, and I tug her hand to stop.
“You will have to fucking kill me, then.” Silas’s shadows strike like black streaks of lightning.
I step further in front of Fen and grab an axe tightly in my hand. Silas holds his sword so tightly that I fear the jeweled hilt will snap in half.
“Just let me go,” Fen says. “I can help him.”
“No,” Silas shouts. “Stop this shit.”
“I need to help him,” she whispers, a weakness seeping into her words.
From the corner of my eye, I see Warrick emerge from the shadows, like a creature of the night. His footsteps are soundless, and a rage sits behind his eyes that makes my skin crawl. His large body stalks forward, completely concealed by the night that fades with every passing second. The others don’t see him.
I place my hand in my pocket and feel the pulse of the power leaking from the stone I possess. I exhale sharply, and expose the power into the open air, pointing it at Carobon.
“I’ll give you this,” I say, stepping away from Fenmore. “The real one.”
The Great Wiitch pulls his gaze to me and tilts his head with feline grace—a smile buds on his lips, and my chest heaves.
Carobon angles his head. “Nolan possesses a fake?”
“Yes,” I say, with a nod. “It was a duplicate.”
Carobon studies me.
“This is the real Stone of Andorwood.” I push my hand forward, bringing it into line with Silas. “I know you are after all of them. Take this one and leave.”
“You clever little bitch. No wonder you and Kalix work together so harmoniously.” He huffs a wicked laugh. “You are just as cunning as she is.”
“Shut your fucking mouth,” Silas fumes, pointing his sword forward.
