Page 116 of The False Vow

It came to me in an instant. Breathing deeply, I shoved away everything except for myself and my Wit, curled up within me. There was nothing I understood as well as my magic. It was intrinsic to me—no, it was me, even if it was now connected to Noé.

It would come when I called it.

Exhaling, I tugged on my power…

And without fail, it answered.

Stepping forward, I opened the library doors. Before the threshold, where I stood, Fortblanche’s corridor remained the same as ever. But on the other side of it…

Stood room fifteen at the Diplomat hotel.

I let out a breath of relief, my head swimming with the effort of exerting my magic. To my back, I heard Manon gasp, “How…?”

Dropping the door handles, I stepped back to make room for her and Anais. “Go through.”

They did, Anais taking Manon by the elbow and prompting her to follow. The air shimmered with an iridescent slick as they crossed over the threshold, like they were passing through the skin of a bubble—and, at once, they were through it, standing in the hotel room.

I was close behind them. The door allowed me to pass easily, admitting me to the room on the other side, but when I went to close it and cut the connection, I hesitated.

Noé had said he’d meet me here. Though I knew he’d encourage me to, I didn’t want to leave him without saying goodbye.

I’d abandoned Eliot during the Vainglory, when I’d dropped his hand and taken his friend’s. I did not want to abandon Noé.

The sound of footsteps from the far end of the corridor we’d come down jolted me. Relief slipping through my veins, I stepped forward just as a figure rounded the corner.

Dark hair. Sharp eyes. Pale olive skin.

Not Noé. Clio Lavoie.

The other silkwitch halted when she saw me. In her left hand, she was clutching something—a small pearl-handled pistol. I had no idea where she’d procured it, though as for who might have given it to her, I had a guess: Bastian.

Steadily, she raised the gun. I dropped back as, to my right, there came another burst of noise—not from the hallway we’d passed through this time, but the one which intersected it, extending out to my side.

Noé’s face slackened with relief as he took me in. Then he registered the terror lighting my expression, and he stiffened.

Three things happened at once.

Clio’s finger moved to the trigger.

Noé took off, sprinting toward me.

And I remembered Clio’s Wit: perfect tracking. From there, it was not a large jump to…

Perfect aim. When she shot that gun, she would not miss.

My heart stopped. I’d dropped the door handles when I thought I’d heard Noé, but now I reached for them again, stretching across the threshold of the hotel room back into Fortblanche.

My husband got there first. Positioning himself in front of me, he gripped the edges of both doors, his body bridging the gap between them.

His eyes met mine. “I love you,” he said. “Don’t forget it.”

He slammed the doors closed just as, from behind him, I heard the gun go off.

Chapter Fifty-One

The connection snapped, the link between the Diplomat and Fortblanche breaking clean. Abruptly, I found myself standing inside room fifteen, staring at the stoic face of the closed door in front of me.

I surged forward. My fingers grasped for the doorknob before I was abruptly yanked backward, a hand gripping my shoulder and hauling me to the ground.