Forty-Four
Kyrith
Ireappear in the Vault, directly beside Mathias and…Eddy?
The lich has one hand out, palm facing the altar, and the other planted in his grimoire as he chants. Eddy is back-to-back with him, so she sees me first.
Instinct has me reaching out, trying to shove myself between them to protect her. She catches me mid-motion. There’s no give in her cold, steely grip, and it turns punishing when I try to wrench free, pinning me in place until I lose hold of my physical form again.
Even then, she plants herself firmly between me and Mathias, who’s not even paying attention. Why would he be?
The dagger is visible. The last of its defences wavering.
No. If he gets his hands on it, then it’s over. I can’t let that happen.
I launch myself at him, but Eddy is there, catching me the minute I regain my physical form.
What’s going on? Why? Why would she do this?
I stare, uncomprehending, into her blank face, searching for a hint of malice. A reason. Anything.
It’s like looking at a creepy doll.
“Eddy?” I gasp.
“How pathetic.” Betrayal guts me all over again as Pierce’s voice drags my attention to my left.
He has a split lip, and the fresh runeform on his cheek is weeping blood down to his jawline. His mother is just behind him, her manicured nails digging into his shoulder.
Pierce broke the covenant.
He…betrayed me? Suddenly, the ease with which Mathias broke the wards over the dagger makes a sick kind of sense. Even if Eddy wasn’t reporting back, Pierce knew all of the protective spells I cast.
It’s only then that I realise…the chanting has stopped. The only noise that remains is the piercing ringing in my ears.
I turn, already knowing what I’ll find.
Mathias is holding the dagger like one might a long-lost child, cradling it between aged fingers.
“No!” I dive for it, but my ghostly body is suddenly so heavy that I end up on my knees on the flagstones. That same pain pulses through me in waves that roll into one another, draining me.
“Ah, Kyrith. There you are.” His voice strengthens as he speaks.
His hair is filling out rapidly, the wrinkled skin of his hand smoothing out as his posture straightens. With every second, I feel the Arcanaeum—already exhausted—growing weaker and weaker. When he finally stops, the man who meets my stare is very much the same one who stabbed me in the heart all those years ago.
The moment his golden eyes meet mine, the stinging agony doubles, though his grimoire is abandoned in the air by his side. The dagger. The dagger is the key to the Arcanaeumand I… Iamthe Arcanaeum, and he’s torturing us. All around me, the walls shake, the building crying out silently as books topple from their shelves.
“So kind of you to join us,” he says, as easily as if he were discussing the weather.
“Get. Out. Of. My. Arcanaeum!” I snarl, straining with every fibre of my being for the magic that would let me banish him.
“Tut tut tut.YourArcanaeum?” He swirls the dagger, balancing the point on his finger for a second before clasping his hand around the golden blade, pressing the ruby-red gem in the pommel to his lips and inhaling. “It takes more than some garish decorations to really claim mastery of such a magnificent institution.”
“Argh!” My scream rips out of me, and I shoot a pleading glance up at Eddy. “Please,” I whisper.
Whatever ensorcellment he used—because I refuse to believe this is really her doing—she can fight it. She’s strong.
Mathias gives me a warm smile, the kind one might give to a toddler that’s being silly. Then, in a swift motion, he leans forward and pulls a golden light out of Eddy’s chest with his fingertips.
