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From my first days on the streets, I decided I’d just have to make myself as brilliant as possible at everything possible so that I never trulyneededmy monstrous power to survive. So far it’s worked out pretty well, my current dilemma notwithstanding.
I’m lucky it was you who stumbled on me,Julita says.I can’t imagine if—
My feet hit the floor of the archives room on the other side of the magical passage, and both Julita’s voice and my breath cut off with the slam of a hand against my throat.
A hand of molded clay rather than flesh, hard enough to choke me with that first jab.
Stavros shoves me back against the reformed wall, his dark eyes searing into mine. A pinch of pain at the base of my throat tells me he’s brought a blade to bear just below his restraining hand.
His mouth twists into a smile so cutting it might as well be a sneer. “So, you came back. Wonderful. Now you can tell us who you really are.”
My pulse thunders, and my magic flares through my chest with the urge to hurl him off me. I can’t reach the knife in my boot or those under my skirts.
I clamp my hands into fists, reining in the burn, and gasp a ragged breath.
Does he know what I’m repressing? Did he figure it out somehow?
In my head, Julita is sputtering.What under the gods’ gaze does he think he’s doing?
“I came to help,” I manage to rasp past the harsh pressure of Stavros’s hand.
The other men come into view around Stavros, their expressions stormy.
A deep frown taints Casimir’s gorgeous face. “If you wanted to help Julita, then she’d be here.”
Alek has his lean arms crossed tightly over his chest. “We’ve looked into your story. There’s no one named Ivy whose family lives in Nikodi.”
Shit and smitings. I’d be glad that they don’t sound as if they’ve discovered my magic, but they’re at least two steps ahead of me in my confession. Which’ll make it look more like they caught me out than like I’m coming clean on my own.
I scramble for the right thing to say, because blurting out, “I’ve got your friend’s ghost in my head!” doesn’t seem likely to go over well as an opening.
At the same moment, my riven magic decides to turn on me too. In response to my defiance, it digs into every crevice in my torso with a sensation like piercing claws.
All I can do is gasp again and tense my muscles against the agony.
Good job, stupid fucking sorcery. Punish me because I strangely don’t think it’s a fantastic idea to show off my illegal power directly in front of a guy who’s dragged people like me straight to the gallows.
What’s happening to you?Julita asks frantically.Tell them what’s going on. Tell them— Oh, Great God help me—
Dizziness washes over me, scrambling my thoughts—and, to my relief, distracting me from the pain. Giving me just enough wherewithal to recognize what’s happening.
She did this before, when she was first in my head, when she hadn’t talked to me yet. She’s trying to take me over.
“You—” I snap before I clamp down on my frustration, and then I wrestle everything inside me into submission: the magic, its resentful claws, the rebellious ghost attempting to claim my body.
This will not be the last page in my life’s story.
Stavros appears to decide he’s waited long enough for a coherent answer. He wrenches me around and slams me down in a chair near one of the shelves of records.
Benedikt darts over to yank a rope around my chest and knot it behind me, pinning my arms to my sides.
I might have been able to throw off the binding before he finished tying it if I gave it a shot, but fighting these men isn’t going to prove my innocence. And I don’t like my chances four against one, especially when the four includes a decorated general.
Julita speaks up with a hint of a quaver in her voice.I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do it—I panicked about what would happen if I didn’t jump in. It won’t happen again.
I don’t know if I believe her, but I have bigger problems at the moment.
With the agony of my magic’s fit of frustration ebbing, I find my voice. “I came today to tell you the truth. To tell you what happened to Julita.”
