Trying desperately to focus on Antony now, I swallow hard and whisper, “My heart… It hurts…”
“Thyra?”
My surroundings finally settle back into view.
I find myself pressed up against Antony’s chest, dread swirling in my stomach. “What did I do?”
“You closed the Chronicle.”
My focus flies to it. “Oh, no.” I try to step toward it, but he doesn’t let me go. “Why would I?—?”
His response is hard. Tense. “You saw something in it. I need you to tell me what you saw.”
I force myself to mentally wade past the image of the dark field and the shrieks of pain, and to return to what I glimpsed right before the blade vision struck.
The astonishing image on the Chronicle’s pages.
Can I be sure of what it means?
With my heart now in my throat, I ask, “Will you let me go?”
“No.”
“You’re hurting my shoulders.”
His hands ease, but he doesn’t remove them. “Tell me what you saw.”
“Will you answer a question for me first?”
His eyes narrow at me, and I wish I could see if his brow is furrowed.Damn helmet.
“Have the images in the Chronicle ever…moved…when you looked at them?”
He tilts his head. “They haven’t.”
“What about for Emiliana? Has she ever mentioned the images coming alive?”
“No, but she could have kept that from me.”
True.
I ask again, “Will you let me go?”
He takes a moment. “Why?”
“Because I’m going to open that book myself.”
His arms circle me before I can blink, clamping around me, and then he’s dragging me away from the table. “We’re leaving.”
I dig in my heels. “We arenotleaving.”
Without stopping, he snarls, “That book will kill you, Thyra.”
He’s far stronger than me, and my attempt at slowing him down is unsuccessful, but I’m not about to give up.
“If I can open it myself, then we don’t need Emiliana. We don’t have to endanger her again.” I’m certain Antony isn’t listening, but I’m only more determined. “If she’s caught, what secrets will she be forced to tell? Will she be forced to reveal she’s been seeing Victor in the forges? Will she be put to death? Will it break his heart?”
Antony’s footsteps finally slow.
