Page 96 of Revels on an Angel’s Grave

“Closer this time,” whoever Falliare was meeting said. Desmond didn’t recognize his voice, but he didn’t know many people in this city.

“What was the error now?” Falliare asked.

“Hard to know for sure,” a different voice answered. This one was a smooth rumble. The kind that brokered power. “The stars were brighter between these two. They were certainly in place, but perhaps not in primal positions.”

“Neither went mad this time?” Falliare mused.

The same cloaked form answered, “No. I think I have fixed that problem. We needed to adjust some coordinates and the angles of the bodies.”

Nothing they said made a lick of sense to Desmond, but he memorized it all. Shifting the vines aside slowly to create a small window, he took in the scene.

And he was nearly sick.

They’d managed to kill both victims this time, unlike the attempt in the sanctuary. Three cloaked figures stood over the corpses, but he couldn’t be sure if any of them were the same as last time. His mind had been pretty wrecked with how strong the Aevollon incense was.

The three of them and Falliare studied the bodies, faded clouds of incense dispersing into the air above. Blood covered the earth in the small clearing, and the forms were both topless, symbols etched into their chests once again. These were slightly more detailed than the last—or maybe his head was clearer—but still, it was difficult to tell what it was supposed to be.

On the woman, a set of jagged lines had been carved on her sternum. On the man, a symbol that almost resembled an arrow.

And neither were tattooed as the twelve-pointed stars on Lyra had been. These were brutally carved.

Whatever this was attempting to do, it clearly hadn’t worked again. Was it connected to Dryvius? Maybe Emmeline was right and Falliare was the one responsible for the recent murder. He had all the evidence at hand. If he learned what Dryvius was after, perhaps he wanted to take it for himself. Maybe these rituals were trying to find the missing piece from Dryvius’s.

That still didn’t explain the substance coating Roremar’s ring or what Falliare bought at the sanctuary on the docks. Regardless, at least they had one answer from Desmond’s excursion tonight: the second attempt wasn’t successful, but they were getting closer.

“You have two more for tonight?” Falliare asked.

The cloaked forms nodded. “Already dead, but we can try. It may still work.”

“Bring them.”

Desmond didn’t stay to watch.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Emmeline

By the time Rocarri’s show ended for the evening, Emmeline was bursting out of her skin to leave the manor. She’d tried all night to get the Chancellor to speak with her regarding Roremar’s innocence, but every time he evaded her.

And every time, her patience waned.

After being watched these past few days, she was craving the anonymity of the rooftops. And she hadn’t gotten to do her personal digging in the Archives today.

The temple was guarded more tightly than usual with the crime scene out front. They weren’t allowing anyone in or out, so masquerading as someone here to pray or read wasn’t an option.

Not to mention that anyone in this damn city could recognize her.

The roof, though…and those sneaky skylights always propped open to filter out incense…

The stained-glass dome and jutting spires hid her perfectly as she sought out an entrance.

The interior of the temple was quiet when she dropped in, no guards patrolling since the doors were all locked and they focused their forces on the exterior. It took her no time to pick the lock into the Archives and disappear down the spiral staircase.

Her magic pounded in her veins as she descended. Lola had said there were twelve levels, which made her research extremely difficult.

Emmeline slipped onto the first, a large information desk at the front and countless rows of books stretching into the depths beneath the temple. Mystlight lanterns illuminated the space, but she needed to find schematics rather than randomly search. She plucked one of those lanterns from its bracket and ducked behind the desk.

The different levels were organized by subject. When she couldn’t find a map of any kind, Emmeline sighed and closed her eyes. “Fates, guide me.”