Chapter 48
Syneca
A room that feels bigger on the inside than the outside is feeding on something. Usually time. Sometimes guests.
The Master stepped forward, and the room fell silent.
Not the natural quiet of people choosing to listen. The oppressive, suffocating silence of everyone afraid to breathe too loudly. Including me.
His smile was the kind that belonged on something wearing a human face, but had forgotten how the expression was supposed to work. “Welcome. Welcome, my devoted citizens, here to witness this glorious moment. An ascension. A gift bestowed upon one truly worthy. Tonight we have special guests. Honored visitors who have traveled so far, worked so hard, to be here with us.” His eyes found mine across the distance. “Please. Give a warm welcome to Vestra’s Venatori.”
Every head in the room snapped toward us in one synchronized motion.
Hundreds of eyes fixed on the three of us. My heart slammed against my ribs. My throat went tight. Instinct screaming thatI needed to be ready, needed to fight, needed to run. I needed water. The small fucking vials in my pockets weren’t going to do shit. Wickett stepped closer, as if he could somehow protect me from whatever was about to happen.
Guards appeared from nowhere, materializing from the shadows between pillars. They wore armor of the same black obsidian, fitted so perfectly it looked like a second skin, every piece polished to a mirror shine. Their faces were visible but expressionless. They carried no obvious weapons, but the way they moved suggested they didn’t need them. They gestured us forward with movements that were too synchronized, too precise. Not threatening. Not yet. Just... expectant.
“Come, come.” The Master beckoned with one elegant hand. “Don’t be shy. You’ve come all this way. Let us see you properly.”
We moved forward because what else could we do? The crowd parted, creating a path straight to the dais, and with every step my pulse ratcheted higher.
Wrong. This was wrong. We’d walked into a trap. And we’d known and done it anyway. We stopped at the base of the platform, and the Master looked down at us with a terrible smile.
“Venatori,” he said. “Bound by blood oath to hunt and kill Vitoria Nindle or die trying.” He tilted his head. “How’s that working out for you?”
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from answering, because whatever came out of this mouth wasn’t going to be eloquent nor particularly kind considering he was holding two of my friends hostage.
“Sixteen days left, I believe?” His eyes glittered with amusement. “Tick Tock. Time’s running out.” He spread his hands in mock sympathy and laughed. “I’m only kidding, of course. You’re not here to kill my beloved. You’ve come to break your oath—” He paused, the smile fading. “—or you’ll die here and now.”
Pip’s gasp was the only sound.
He said my name like he owned it. “Syneca Black. Come forward, witch.”
I didn’t move. Couldn’t make my legs work past the terror freezing me in place.
“Now.” Not a request. A command that pulled at something deep inside, something that wanted to obey despite every instinct screaming not to.
I climbed the steps on shaking legs. He met me at the top, and up close he was worse, beautiful in the way poisonous things were beautiful, dangerous in ways that went beyond physical threat.
I swallowed every emotion. I needed to turn it all off. Revert back to the Rune Weaver working at the Chancellery. Play the role. I could do this. I’d done it a million times.
The Master’s hand came up, one finger trailing down my cheek with horrible gentleness. “I believe you already have the blood? Vitoria was so helpful, wasn’t she? Gave you exactly what you needed.”
The vial felt like it was burning in my pocket.
I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t go backward anymore. I wouldn’t stand by and let my friends fall victim to someone because of my own fear. “I’m not doing anything until you let Calder go.”
The Master blinked. Then laughed.
And then the worst sound that I could ever imagine followed. Vitoria joined him.
Not a nervous laugh. Not the uncertain sound of someone forced to play along. But genuine amusement, sharp and cruel and delighted.
My chest cracked open.
She was laughing. At me. At this. Like it was funny that we’d sacrificed everything to save her, that I’d defended her toeveryone who called her a monster, that I’d been willing to die for her.
I couldn’t look at her. Couldn’t bear to turn my head and see the truth written on her face, that this wasn’t an act, wasn’t her being controlled or forced or manipulated. This was achoice. Her fucking choice. This was who she’d always been underneath the terrible jokes and burned dinners and three years of pretending we were family.
