“I’m alone in all things,” I mused. “This is no different.”
Cirian moved closer, appearing in my periphery, yet still keeping a polite distance. “Is that so? What of Paradise? Surely, you can take solace in the comforts of your community.”
“You speak of things you know nothing about,” I scoffed, the flash of anger returning to roil in my gut.
“Then allow me the chance to learn,” he replied, his tone cool and placating.
“Your words are pretty. But pretty words aren’t enough for me.”
A spark lit in his dark eyes as Cirian reached for my hand, taking it in his. “Then what would be enough? What proof do you require to understand beyond all doubts that I’m here for you, Bastien? Tell me, and I’ll show you that I’m more than the vainglorious monster you make me out to be.”
A whisper of thread appeared between us, but I refused to acknowledge it.
“Why must you pursue me so relentlessly?” I questioned, pulling away from his grip.
He recoiled at that, stepping back from me as if I’d pushed him once again. A pang of guilt struck my stomach, and I searched for the words to balm the situation.
“Cirian,” I started, but nothing else came after. He stood across from me in rigid silence, his hand pressed to his chest as if he were trying to muffle the beat of his own heart. His dark eyes held onto me, the flames of candles dancing in them as he stared.
When he did speak, his voice was still soft. Like a prayer whispered into an empty corner.
“This tether is fragile.” His hand drifted from his chest outward, running two thin fingers along the invisible connection that led him to me. “A singular thread of spider’s silk. It would snap at the lightest pressure, drifting away on the breeze, never to be seen again.”
He stepped closer, his fingers trailing the undetectable thread as he did. For a split second, I swore I could feel the vibration ricochet down to my chest.
“So, I’ll be gentle. I won’t tug so hard that it breaks. I’ll give the spider all the time it needs to work its craft. To weave together all the little moments of our lives till they are a cord that I will use to bind you at the wrists.”
He was impossibly close now, the breath of his words working against my skin as he bore down on me with eyes of black iron.
“And when I finally catch you in my snare, Bastien, I will kneel down—” he lowered himself onto a knee, tilting his head back to keep eye contact, “and show you how a body is to be worshiped.”
My breath caught in my chest, the heat from my face sinking like a falling star, finding its way to the core of my being. I burned for him. I couldn’t deny it. Despite the animosity I’d clung so desperately to, I couldn’t argue the fact that my body longed for the touch of this man.
Shifting back onto his feet, Cirian rose, his gaze narrowed in on me as though he could see nothing else. I stared back—the only thing I could do in that moment—and watched as the cool mask of indifference settled back over his features.
“Sancha is waiting for us.”
I wanted to tell him I was sorry. To shed the weight of the pride that kept me silent. But he could wait no longer for theimpossible. He turned from me and staked away, his billowing vestments whispering against cold stone.
Exhaling what tension I could, I hurried down the hall after him.
“Thank you for coming, even at this late hour.”
The Cardinal, Saint Sancha, sat across from us behind a desk of dark, polished wood. It was the first time I’d seen her dressed in something other than her vestments, and though her figure was full-framed and strong, she seemed smaller without the pomp and circumstance of her billowing attire.
“Cirian has kept me up to speed regarding the Greenes’ condition,” she continued, resting her chin atop clutched fist. “I am sorry that I don’t have more resources to allocate towards finding a solution to their ailment.”
“You’re very kind, Your Eminence. But I am close to a breakthrough. Of that, I’m certain. You need not concern yourself.” I could feel Cirian’s gaze on me, as if challenging my statement, but I ignored him. “Might I inquire what exactly it is I can do for you? I must say, I was rather surprised when Cirian told me you wished to meet.”
Sancha deflated with a sigh. “I’ll ask that you forgive the vaguities, Bastien. What I am about to discuss with you is not public knowledge, and, as such, I cannot risk it falling into the wrong hands. Before I go any further, I would like to ensure that you are ready and willing to receive such information, and ask that you exercise the highest level of discretion in whom you share it. Do I have your permission to continue?”
I swallowed back the lump in my throat, giving her a slight nod.
“Thirteen weeks ago, a great deal of magical energy was released at the Adoracia Cemetery. That mass of energy quickly rippled through the Expanse, causing a great number of complications. For reasons unclear to even our greatest artificers, the stars have vanished from the night sky. There have also been countless reports of magical technologies failing outright, as well as accounts of animals exhibiting strange behaviors.”
I nodded once more. “Yes, we’ve seen the same things in Brierwood and amongst the Reviled.”
“That leads us to the situation regarding the Mortal population,” Sancha continued. “Magical abilities the Magi have not observed in our one thousand years manifesting in Mortal civilians. There are some amongst the Council who are calling it the Second Awakening, though they have been quick to keep that from spreading amongst the masses, in fear of public outcries regarding the laws of Magi.”
