Page 99 of The Vespertine Treaty

There was a sickening crunch of hollow bones.

Evar shrieked—a sound of utter agony—and plummeted to the ground, Rhana landing on top of him. She didn't hesitate. She ripped the bird apart, feathers and magic dissipating into the air.

I reached the landing.

Malathor was backing away, his arrogance replaced by genuine fear. He raised his hands, summoning a cloud of blinding, choking fog.

"You cannot see me!" he yelled, his voice echoing from everywhere and nowhere.

"I don't need to see you," I said, closing my eyes. "I can smell your fear."

I sensed the displacement of air to my left, and I swung my sword.

The blade connected with something hard—magic shielding—but the force of the blow shattered it. Malathor cried out as the impact threw him across the room, crashing into a heavy oak table.

I walked toward him. My boots were heavy on the floorboards.

He scrambled up, blood trickling from his nose. He tried throwing something at me.

I caught it.

I caught the magical lie in my left hand, the Death Touch absorbing the energy, neutralising it instantly.

"Is that it?" I asked, stepping closer. "Is that the power you thought made you worthy of her? Lies and deceit?”

Malathor’s eyes were wide, frantic. He looked around for an exit, for help. There was none. The hallway was empty. No other acolytes. No guards. Just me.

He pulled a dagger from his sheath—a pathetic, desperate move.

He lunged.

I dropped my sword. I didn't need it for this.

I caught his wrist mid-air.

The snap of his radius was loud in the silence.

Malathor screamed, dropping the knife.

I didn't stop. I grabbed his throat with my other hand and lifted him off the ground. I slammed him against the stone wall, my fingers digging into his windpipe.

"Where is she?" I roared, shaking him.

"She... she..." He clawed at my hands, his face turning purple. "She is... broke... en..."

The lie—or the truth, I didn't know—sent me over the edge.

I placed my hand—the Death Hand—over his heart.

But I didn't kill him.

I used the touch like a scalpel. I pushed the necrosis past his skin, past the muscle, and wrapped it around his ribcage. I made his bones rot.

Slowly.

"AAAAHHHHRRRGGGHHH!"

His scream was a symphony. It was the most beautiful sound I had heard all day.