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What the hell happened to you, Ignatius?
I swallow hard and try to look for any positives in this grim situation, but I can only settle on one. There’s no blood. Signs of a struggle, yes, but it doesn’t look like anyone was severely injured. At least, that’s what I tell myself to feel a little better. Maybe Ignatius was able to escape whoever came for him, with whatever it was they were after.
Or, hopefully, at least with his life.
“What are we going to do?” I mutter, finally finding my voice.
I can’t bear to look at either of my men–seeing the hurt in their eyes would be enough to bring tears to mine. Instead I focus on a shattered globe in the corner of the room and stare at it until the stinging at the corners of my eyes stops.
“There’s nothing we can do,” Azarius admits after a moment. “He’s gone. We can’t track him and we don’t even know if he’s al–”
“Az,” Elio snaps, cutting him off.
Silence falls over the room, tightening around me and making it harder to breathe. I wish there was something, anything, I could do to help, but I’ve never felt so useless. So helpless.
“We’ll head back to the mansion,” Elio breaks the silence after a long minute. “There we can… figure out another plan.”
I want to ask what we could possibly do, but I can’t find the words. Instead I let my questions spin out of control in my mind. Will we find another warlock to put wards up around the mansion? Is there a way to track Ignatius that we’re unaware of? What will we do if we can’t fortify the woods?
What then?
“Devyn.” It’s Azarius saying my name. Reluctantly, I look up at him, my limbs feeling like lead. I already know what he’s going to say, but I’m not ready. Not yet. “Let’s go.”
I know it’s unsafe to linger. We’ve already been in the city of Havec for too long, and someone was sure to hear Elio and Azarius breaking into Ignatius’ house. It might not be long before someone comes to investigate, and it’s best if we’re long gone before then.
But I can’t leave yet.
Not when it still feels like we still have so much unfinished business.
Not when it feels like the world is crashing around me.
Our friend, quite possibly our only true ally in this realm, is missing. Possibly dead. And we couldn’t do anything, can’t do anything, to help him. All of this feels wrong. So incredibly wrong, like a nightmare I should be able to wake myself up from. But I can’t. I can’t do anything but stare at the chaos around me and wish for a different reality.
“She’s in shock,” Elio says, though I barely hear him. The sounds are muffled as my heart pounds louder in my ears. “Bring her. We have to get out of here.”
A comforting arm slips around my shoulders and steers me toward the door, and despite my internal protests, my feet obey the command. In seconds, we’re outside and Elio is closing the door tightly behind us.
Not that it matters. He could leave the door wide open and it wouldn’t make a difference. Ignatius is gone.Gone. And there’s a chance he’ll never come back to this house anyway.
My stomach turns with nausea, and I swallow down the acidity creeping up my throat.
“It’s going to be okay, Devyn,” Azarius says. His arm is still around my shoulders, and he squeezes me against his side. “Ignatius is a powerful warlock. He probably got away.”
I know he means well, but his words do nothing to fill the void growing inside me. My mind is moving as slow as molasses, my limbs numb. My feet are moving of their own accord as we make our way farther away from Ignatius’ house, toward the edge of the city.
I can’t shake the worry, the anxiety tearing through me. It’s true, I only met Ignatius once, but he was an invaluable help to us. Kind, compassionate. A third sun in this dark, harsh world.
If losing him is this painful, how will I feel if anything happens to any of my men?
They are powerful, and all forces to be reckoned with, but I’m not stupid. They’re not immortal. A war is coming, drawing closer every day, and it’s only a matter of time before they’re called to fight for the cause. And there’s a chance one, or more, of them might not make it out alive.
I swallow hard as a tremor rolls through me, and as much as I want the horrible images to stop, they keep coming. Azarius, Elio, Rafe in battle with huge, malicious Malevs. Fighting, tearing, bleeding. My fingers tremble.
“Devyn,” Azarius says, his voice heavy with concern as he comes to a halt. “Devyn, say something. What’s wrong?”
I manage to look up before my bottom lip trembles, and I bite down on it to keep it in place. His brows are furrowed low over his impossibly blue eyes, the eyes I’ve come to love and adore and miss when they aren’t staring back at me. What if one day I’m never able to stare into them again?
Fear spikes, shooting through me like electricity, and I gasp for air. It’s a panic attack, a big one, and there’s nothing I can do to slow its onslaught. Azarius doesn’t seem to know what to do either because he exchanges a nervous look with Elio.
