And for the first time in the months since Tobias fell unconscious, the weight that sat in my chest lifted. There was such a lightness, if the others hadn’t been holding onto me, I might have floated away.
I reached for the two men, cupping my hand around the back of each of their heads. I leaned forward to Cirian first, guiding him down to me so I could plant a kiss on his forehead.
“Thank you.”
I then turned to Bastien and did the same.
“Thank you.”
Bastien’s gaze dropped to the ground as I released my hold on him, and when I turned back to Cirian, his cheeks were flushed, nearly the same shade as the strands of hair that framed his face.
“Is something amiss?” I asked him, puzzled by his silence.
He shook his head. “I-It’s nothing.”
“Should we continue on, then?”
Another shake, and Cirian detached himself from me, scratching at the nape of his neck. “Yeah, we can talk more once we’re back at the Sanctuary. Once I’ve had a moment’s rest, I can help with those wounds, Azzy. Those bruises are starting to match your hair.”
Bastien chuckled, and I couldn’t help but join him. Even here, amongst the evils of this world and the next, we could find moments of light.
We resumed our pace down the winding tunnels, Cirian leading the way once more.
“Now that we know what we’re facing, have you been able to uncover any weaknesses we can exploit, Bastien?”
Bastien scribbled furiously in a small leather-bound notebook as he spoke. “Not entirely, but I have a few ideas. The biggest weakness is its need for a host. If we can somehow figure out a way to contain it, or remove its access to others, then we can cripple it long enough for us to devise a permanent solution.”
It was a start. I was certain that with enough time, there was no problem that Bastien couldn’t solve. I found myself surprisedat the ease with which I placed my trust in him. Was that because of our bond?
“Can we assume that it will go after one of the clergy now as its host?”
“It seems like it’s attracted to power,” Bastien answered. “Perhaps it seeks powerful Magi out, seeing possessing them to be the best chance it has at accomplishing its goals.”
“Is this your way of calling yourself powerful?” Cirian interjected.
“Obviously,” Bastien replied, the hint of a smile curling the edge of his lips as he continued to write.
“Who else was in the Cradle when the incident occurred?”
Cirian’s brow drooped in concentration. “Sancha is the obvious answer, but it’s not tried to come near her. Or maybe she’s been able to keep it away, I’m not sure which. Other than her, no other bishops or high-ranking clergy were present when the Umbral attacked. It was mostly families visiting from El Shaddith and the caretakers of the Cradle.”
“If it is looking for power, why wouldn’t it go after the Cardinal?” I questioned, the logic bumping against my mind uncomfortably. “She’s more powerful than any Magi I’ve ever met. I’d go as far as to say even Adoranda Greene was outclassed by Sancha’s power.”
“Maybe Cirian was right, and she’s too powerful for the Umbral to influence?” Bastien queried. “It doesn’t want to pick a fight it knows it can’t win.”
It was hard to imagine an overwhelming force like the Umbral thinking itself too weak. There must have been something that we were missing.
“That thing is lucky that Sancha was wounded before it decided to show its ugly face,” Cirian gloated, a spring in his step. “She would have ripped that thing out of you herself, Bast.”
“I have no doubts,” I agreed. Sancha was formidable, even as her magic was slowly being sapped away by her wound from a Sanguine blade. But the longer the wound went untreated….
The idea struck me just as a tremor shook the Cradle, throwing the three of us off balance. Cirian braced himself against the wall, glancing up as the ceiling rained cinereal dust like I was a gentle spring rain.
“What was that?” Bastien questioned, his notebook clutched against his chest.
“How far are we from the Cardinal?” I asked, forcing myself into motion once more. Every muscle ached, the wounds I’d sustained in my bout with the Umbral’s shades making their presence known with every step.
“Shouldn’t be far,” Cirian replied, confusion rooting itself in his expression. “What is it?”
