Rhiannon explained that there was an evening showing of some bioluminescent art installations at the National Gallery, and it would make good cover for checking out the space where the Gala and auction would be held. Casual enough that we didn’t need to change clothes and a popular enough event that it made sense that we’d attend.
If this was a trap, and we had to assume it was, then whoever wanted to catch us out would be expecting us. The trick was to behave as though we hadn’t considered we might be set up. To be as arrogant as many assumed the Maere were. Just walk right in and case the joint. Why the fuck not?
I glanced to my left at Rhiannon, who looked serene as ever as we strode down the dark sidewalk. What went on behind her perpetually halcyon exterior had always been a mystery to me. To my right, Lara practically vibrated with nerves. They glanced at each other, as though looking right through me. It had been nearly a century since they were together, but there were still times I felt that spark of connection between them.
The one that practically screamed, “if we’d tried harder, could we have made it work?” They knew the answer was no. I knew the answer was no. Anyone who’d spent even ten minutes around them knew. They were volatile as romantic partners. Great as friends, devious as colleagues, and completely miserable as lovers.
I sighed as my phone buzzed in my jacket pocket. As soon as I saw the name on the notification, I slid it back where it came from. After the night I’d had so far, I couldn’t stand the thought of hearing from Ares Necroline. Whatever had passed between us at the laundromat was dangerous. The connection I felt to him was messy. There was no way for us to act on whatever these feelings were without trouble.
“Fine,” I said, if only to interrupt any further rumination over the Necroline leader. I stepped out into the street, raising a hand to hail a taxi. “Let’s go.”
Inside the National Gallery, the special exhibit was crowded. We wandered through it first, putting on quite a show of being interested in the bioluminescent art. Several humans snapped photos of us—of Rhi and Lara. No one was that interested in me anymore. But the humans liked to keep track of our whereabouts, treating us like curiosities rather than people, and neither of them had been sighted in Orphium in years.
That was the odd thing about the Asylum. People just disappeared. No one ever confirmed, publicly, that parapsychs went in or got out. I don’t know why I hadn’t wondered why that was before.
When the Authority was so gleeful about publishing our every individual transgression as evidence against us, why hadn’t I questioned why they weren’t equally as forthcoming about who was kept in the Asylum? It all made sense now, but in the wake of this evening’s revelations, I was frustrated with myself for not clocking all of this sooner.
Rhiannon’s heels clicked gently on the marble floors of the gallery, just ahead of me. She and Lara walked arm in arm, as I trailed behind them, turning my thoughts over time and time again. It would be all over message boards and gossip sites within the hour that we were here. I assumed this was what Rhiannon banked on. That interest in the fact that the three of us were together again might flush out some piece of information on whoever had our swords.
Rhiannon glanced back at me. We’d been in the special exhibit for a half hour, seen all the glowing sculptures made from various mosses, lichens, and fungi. It was time to slip out and make our way to where the swords would be displayed during the Gala.
I followed close behind. My phone buzzed again, thereminder notification that Ares had texted me earlier. I pulled it out of my pocket, took a deep breath, and unlocked my phone. I’m not sure what I expected, but a request for help wasn’t it.
I quickened my pace behind Rhi and Lara, my fingers flying over the keyboard.Still need help?I watched my phone as we exited the special exhibit, but there was no sign he’d seen my text.
As we wound our way through the Antiquities wing, I checked my phone again. In doing so, I failed to see that Lara and Rhi had stopped. The smaller gallery where the auction goods were displayed each year was directly ahead of us. It looked as though they’d already set up extensive security measures, which was no surprise.
I could just make out the spirit traps from my vantage point, and my mouth went dry. Spirit traps weren’t illegal, but in the last fifty years or so, there’d been enough of an outcry about them that legitimate organizations like the National Gallery no longer used them. This would make things harder, for sure.
Spirit traps were cruel, but they were extremely effective in cases like these. The spirits were never allowed rest, and when caught inside the trap, they were forced to do the trap owner’s bidding. A bit of bile rose in my throat.
Rhiannon turned, her eyes full of rage. “We are leaving.”
Technically, she didn’t get to make a decision like that, but sometimes Rhiannon forgot that I was her superior officer, not the other way around. I craned my neck to look around her, my stomach lurching as I caught sight of the spirits themselves—or rather the auric energy they emitted. I froze, gooseflesh raising on my arms as my heart beat faster than it should.
“How?” I breathed. My fists clenched, nails digging viciously into my palms. Without my sword, it was hard to see aura, but something about the way these traps had been programmed intensified it enough that I could read the souls’ auras clearly. “How…”
Lara glanced at me. “Rhi, she’s going to lose it.”
Rhiannon grabbed hold of my arm. “We can’t do anything about it now, love. We have to go.”
But I couldn’t turn. My eyes were locked on the five souls the Authority had guarding the gallery. Five younglings, none of them yet twenty-eight. They’d all died so young. And yet, Iknew. Each of them had been destined to be Maere—one ofus. It was evident in their aura as spirits, the same thread that connected the rest of us. My teeth gritted.
Was this the Authority’s doing? Were the talents they were snuffing out potential Maere? How was that even possible?My mind spun with possibilities, tumbling through horrific scenario after scenario. I’d lived too long, seen too much.
They knew. They knew we’d come. This wasn’t just a trap, it was something else. Something bigger. Whoever had our swords didn’t just want to bait us into stealing them back, they wanted tohurtus. This waspersonal.
“We’ll never get past them,” Lara growled under her breath as they got me moving towards the exit. She was right. Those spirits were a failsafe. Any ideas we’d had about an easy in and out on the night of the Gala evaporated.
“We aresofucked,” Rhi breathed.
In my pocket, my phone buzzed. Again and again as we made it out of the National Gallery and onto the street. Finally, I pulled it out of my pocket. “Hail a cab,” I said, calming as I read the return text from Ares Necroline. “I have a plan.”
They glanced at one another for a moment before remembering that I was still their commanding officer—that even after everything, I was actually still in charge. Rhi stepped out into traffic, her long, elegant arm hailing a taxi.
“What are you up to, Verona?” Lara asked, her dark brows furrowing.
“We’re going to upset the apple cart,” I snarled. “Do something they won’t expect.”
