He hisses at me.I huff out a laugh.
There’s a crashing in the distance like someone threw open a door and flung aside a trolley of books.
Mortem’s eyes widen and he evaporates, reappearing a moment later on the other side of a plinth.
“Interitus?”
“Meow,” he nods and starts pacing.
“How do I make it work?”
He tilts his head at me.“What do you mean?It isworking…”
I glance from Mortem to the stone archway and back again.“Now isn’t the time for joking.”
“It’s literally working,” he says, his tone shorter and sharper than before.
I gesticulate at the very vacant arch.“It’sliterallynot.”
He sniffs, a distinct look of tired distain on his features as he gets up and pads over to the arch.
He glances at me, I swear he insults me under his breath, then strolls right through the stone, his furry arse the last thing to disappear.
“What the fuck?There’s no Veil tear… Mortem?”But of course, there’s no response.
I run after him, desperate to get home and away from Interitus.
Now, a more sensible option, not having seen the tear myself, would have been to stick a hand through… perhaps a toe, or more generously a whole foot.
But such is the plight when one is desperate to escape, that ‘sense’ seems to vanish.
As mine did in this moment.
And so, instead of a hand or toe or foot, I flung myself, full-bodied, at the arch…
Only to end up flat on my back.The books jab into my thighs—that will bruise, no doubt.My arse and forehead are rather sore too.And I am very much still in Prima’s demonic library.
A solitary furry head appears, hovering a foot above the ground in the stone.
“What are you doing?Hurry up,” he meows.
What am I—?Is it possible to murder a dead cat?I’d rather like to.
“Like I said,Mortem, it’s not fucking working,” I drag out his name in the most petulant way I can.
His face is one of utter disbelief.I sigh, rub my forehead and crawl back to the arch, pushing my fist against the hard stone.
“You can’t see through to Ora?”he says.
“Just darkness.”
Interitus appears in the central aisle, her gaze landing on me.The weight of her stare is as heavy as Finis Tower.
I can’t breathe.
Her mismatched eyes are hypnotic.
Mortem, having hopped onto the nearest bookshelf, nudges a heavy tome off the side.It lands on my head.
