Page 28

MONUMENT PARK, PROTECTED LAND, DELORNIA

LUCAS

The circle dumps me out on a slate platform surrounded by thick fog. I turn slowly, my threads retracting.

I step off the platform, and the crunching of the frozen grass echoes in the thick fog. Awareness prickles painfully along my skin and my gut twists. I can’t put my finger on it, but there’s something off about this place. It could be all the clashing magic from the weavers fighting, but I’m not taking any chances. My fingers ripple, and my threads line the bottom of my boots. Now I make no noise on the grass and leave behind no prints as I make my way towards the center of the park, where Antonia’s statue would be. Where Tori said she would be.

The moment I find her, I am going to convince Jinx to kidnap her with me so we can finally leave this doomed city. Tori is going to hate it and want to stay and salvage our shop, but it’s time to start afresh elsewhere. Maybe somewhere warm and far away from any Order settlements.

The grass disappears beneath my feet and a circular slab takes its place. I pause, an odd sensation crawling up my spine to linger on the back of my neck. Where Tor can use her senses to identify magic, I need my rings to do it. My rings glitter in the darkness, and I suck in breath. Dark magic.

Oh shit, this is potent stuff.

Finally, Antonia’s white marble statue comes into view. Her finger points threateningly at the city, but there is something different about her. There’s a dripping from the eyes that is more localized than pooling water from the fog.

I wave my hand back and forth. The fog swirls, the darkness forced back by my brightening rings. A ripple quivers over the statue. An illusion?

My threads lash out, piercing deep into the magic’s web and tearing through it. The illusion falls away in long strips, like a picture being ripped apart. I don’t understand what I’m seeing at first, the shock stealing all thought as my jaw drops.

The love of my life’s face, encased in white stone, is stretched in a scream of agony, her wide eyes pouring a dark liquid that drips down her warped chest as if someone has ripped her heart out. But where her heart is supposed to be lies Jinx, curled in a tight ball around Tori’s exposed rib bones to keep her safe.

I suck in a breath. “Tor.”

Astoria’s stone pupils move, and I choke on air when our gazes meet. She’s alive. A bellow of grief-stricken agony builds in my chest, but I choke it down. The iron will and cold detachment that served me so well when indentured to the Amur Guild are hard to draw upon, but I have no choice. I can’t fall apart now. I need to break her free.

My throat works rhythmically, and I whisper roughly, “Hold on, Tor.”

My threads wind around and around the statue, delicately probing until the curse’s web lights up before me. There’s some sort of tether hooked into her heart, like a fishing line. My threads inspect it delicately, fearful of tripping an alarm and alerting whoever did this to Tori. The tether pulses almost like… a heart? No. My threads probe a little firmer.

The pulses remind me of a throat gulping, but I can’t quite figure out what it is drawing from her. It doesn’t matter. Someone is using this tether to feed upon my sweet Torment.

I sway as blinding-hot rage floods me as Tori stares at me in anguish.

The tether can lead me to whoever cast this horror upon her. Then I can drag him back and force him on his knees before my beloved to receive her vengeance.

The breath I try to take fights me, but finally I suck in enough air to force my anger down. I need to be logical. Finding who is at fault is not important right now. I need to get Tori free.

My fingers ripple as I lock in. It’s the most complex weave I’ve ever seen. So many different twists and turns with several traps to suck me into the stone as well. It’s going to take me hours, if not days. I work on mapping out the web, then begin to tease out one thread at a time. The first one drops and dissolves.

I let out a breath. One down. About ten thousand to go. One by one, threads fall. Sweat trickles down my temple and itches terribly, but I don’t let go. I’m so close to getting this one section free. Tori shifts within the stone as if to help me break her out, and I nearly laugh. She’s getting less locked in by the second, and her awareness is slowly peeling from the cursed stone. Pride floods me. She’s so strong even while half alive and encased in stone. At least the curse is keeping her from bleeding out.

Jinx’s stone eyes snap open and I jolt, my threads retreating slightly from the shock. Her blue eyes contract into unnerving thin slits, and she darts her gaze over my shoulder before the marble seals over her again.

The wind shifts and the world slows as my senses light up in a crackle of electricity. I throw my body back, my threads retracting as they try to slide free of the web. But it’s too late. Magic rips through them like a blade, and my rings scream. My mouth stretches open and arms spasm as flashes of agony shoot up my nerves.

My cap flies off my head as I hit the ground in a slump, eyes too wide and chest pumping too shallowly.

A lighthearted masculine laugh echoes between the stone statues of the monument. No matter how hard I try, I cannot pinpoint the direction it’s coming from, as if the source is flickering around in a random order. My spasming hands curl into stiff fists, and I bite back a groan as I drag myself up to my elbows. The swirling fog is too thick to make anything out, and I manage to sit upright without fainting.

Never in my thirteen years of being fused with my rings have I ever had their threads cut like that. They’ve been ripped through in battle, yes, but that’s a risk and discomfort I’m prepared for. This slice is different, and I can’t quite pinpoint why. Whatever it was, it’s not an experience I’m eager to repeat.

A disembodied voice echoes around me. “And here I thought I was going to have to hunt you down. I should’ve known you’d come crawling after her.”

My rings pulse with warning, and I ignore the lingering throb of pain in my arms. I stand back up and sweep up my flat cap, smacking it against my thigh to get any dirt off. The voice is familiar, but a name isn’t coming to mind.

Spider-silk-thin threads slither out of my rings to hunt the man down. I slide on my cap with a smirk. “What can I say? All the Magistrate couldn’t keep me from such an irresistible woman.” My heart clenches. Hold on, Torment.

“Yes, she always had that effect on the weak-minded. Like a black widow in a web. By the time they realize what she really is, it’s far too late.”