Page 68 of Fallacies

The godsdamn Eldral.

I’d hidden it to the best of my ability, in a spot I never thought anyone would find, but she did. Ceres found it. And not only did she decide to use it, opening the door to the Twilight Passage, but she’s using an Eldral that doesn’t rightly belong to her.

It belongs to me.

I recall Kimber’s words from a few months ago: The Emerald is given by fate, the Ruby by sacrifice, and the Sapphire must be gifted.

My father gave it to me in one of those horrid nightmares. I’m the only one allowed to use it, and Pa said that using an Eldral that doesn’t belong to you could be fatal. Using one in general is risky because⁠—

Gods.

You never know who could slip through.

Ceres let someone in. Whoever that is, behind the fire, he came through the Twilight Passage. And Ceres is just…his host.

“All it takes is one bad seed, Your Grace,” the man hisses through the flames, pure disdain in his use of Delia’s title. “And Ceres Samora is the best kind of bad seed. So willing to let me borrow her flesh. So willing to be a vessel. Always so power-hungry that one.”

She’s just the vessel. Which means if we kill him…we kill Ceres.

I need that fucking Eldral.

I don’t hear Delia’s response as I slip through the trees, mindful of every step. Shadows dance at my feet—the fraction of my father’s magic that I’ve tamed, eager to be put to good use.

“You must not know who you’re dealing with, little girl,” I hear him taunt the crowd, and something about the way he sneers, little girl, confirms what I’ve been trying so stubbornly to deny.

It’s me he’s looking for.

His midnight robes billow out around him as he turns, a cruel smirk on his lips. “Alaric Tenebrus,” he announces, gesturing to himself, and I freeze in my pursuit, blood running cold. His smile then is nothing short of wicked. “King of Rogues.”

16

Callan

The name unleashes a feral part of me. A side that I’ve worked tirelessly to smother.

Tenebrus.

It rattles through my skull and eats away at my composure, making it harder and harder to see straight.

Tenebrus.

Alaric Tenebrus. King of Rogues. It was one of his descendants—his lackeys—who took Streatham. He cursed our Disciples. He orchestrated the army of yellow-eyed beasts to steal our families and rob us of our home. Our glorious home. All of it is gone. All because of him.

Magic bursts from me in thick, heavy waves, kicking up dirt as it barrels through the Yard, searching and scanning. It’s an extension of myself, the rest of my focus split between swallowing my fury and holding the line of fire Alaric is circled in. But still…nothing. I can’t find Lucina, and I’ve always been able to find her.

There aren’t that many people here, but Lucina isn’t amongst the ghastly pale faces darting between Kimber, dangling in the sky, and the godsdamn King of Rogues.

How did Ceres even manage such a thing? She’s power-hungry, I know, but this? Betraying her people? I can’t believe she’d take it this far. Can’t believe she’d put all of Pirn’s safety at risk. After all we’ve done to keep this place hidden…

“Come on out, now,” Alaric taunts, golden irises scanning the crowd again, not at all threatened by the fire raging around him. When no one moves, he spins his long, pointy finger, and Kimber spins with it, screaming as he jerks her around like a puppet. “I’ll let her go if you do.”

Beside me, Pax grunts in pain, pouring more of himself into the flames he’s wielding.

Alaric hisses, patience thinning as he snarls, “I KNOW YOU’RE HERE!” Kimber screams, clawing at the restraint that must have tightened around her waist. “I’LL KILL YOU ALL. EVERY LAST ONE OF⁠—”

“Here!”

I nearly lose all concentration on our only line of defense when Lucina emerges from the tree line, putting herself directly in his line of sight.