“Come.” The figure motioned me forward. “Let me see if there is anything inside your mind.”
“Are you going to do that thing again?” I asked.
“No. Then, I was looking at your magic. At your soul. This is different.”
I approached, my heart racing. The figure rested cold fingertips against my temple. They felt like an icy mist—there, but not. The chill seeped inside my head, seeming to float around inside my mind. Searching.
“Your memories…”
I looked at the seer, wanting it to continue. To speak more quickly. Finally, it did. “You have recently found a book. Your answers are there. Your friend will help you.”
“Seraphia?”
“No. The raven.”
“The raven?” Confusion flickered. “Eve’s raven?”
“Not Eve’s. Yours. The raven waits with Eve, drawn by her Fae energy. It is life, keeping the raven here while it waits.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You will. But first, you must open the book and find your past.”
“Seraphia is working on the book.”
“And she will be successful,” the seer said. “But it will take your blood to finish the spell that will open the book. Then you must find the raven.”
“What about the raven? And I’ll just read all the answers in the book?” It definitely sounded too easy, especially given how difficult and unpredictable my magic could be. My skills were improving, but erratically.
It laughed—or at least made a sound that might have been a laugh, raspy and rough. “No, nothing so simple. But it will be a guide, helping you along the path to discovering what you are and what you can do. Once you know, you will be able to save them both.”
“Both? Grey and me?”
The seer disappeared, its form fading out into mist that once again filled the chamber. I looked at Grey, almost more confused than when I’d arrived.
He rubbed a hand over his face. “That was…not bad.”
“Not bad? I have no idea what to do.”
“No, we don’t know exactly what to do. But we have plenty of clues now. And the seer is gone. We need to leave.”
I nodded, my mind racing to catalog and memorize everything the seer had told me. Obviously, we needed to get to Seraphia immediately. And the raven…
We had to find that bird, whatever that meant.
“Can we transport?” I asked Grey, wanting to avoid the trip back through the castle.
“Not until we are outside. Silviu would never let his prey go so easily.” He turned and headed toward the stairs.
I followed, racing up behind him.
The corridors were empty as we hurried toward the exit. The bodies of the guards lay still and undisturbed, and I began to hope that we would make it out of there without trouble.
We were nearly to the exit when a voice boomed behind us. “Devil.”
We spun around, spotting Silviu on the other side of the room.
He stood on the stairs, his tall form stiff. His black suit was so perfectly pressed and he stood so still that he looked like a mannequin in a department store in Hell.
“Silviu.” Grey’s voice sounded bored. “We are leaving now.”
“I need her. You know that.”
“I’m afraid you cannot have her.” He stepped forward.
“No,” I whispered.
“I’ll handle this,” he said. “Get out of here.”
“The point is for both of us to survive. I’m not leaving you.”
“I cannot allow you to depart so soon,” Silviu said.
“This isn’t the way to obtain Carrow’s help,” Grey said. “You’ve been cooped up here too long. You no longer know how to engage with people.”
Silviu shrugged a slim shoulder. “Perhaps you are right and I am out of date. All the same, I like things my way.”
I scoffed, watching him, looking for any kind of weakness that I could exploit. I wouldn’t jump on it—not unless Grey really needed me to. But this was his maker. His fight.
“Unfortunately, you cannot have things your way,” Grey said. “I proved that last time when I left here, and I’m going to do so again.”
A shadow of rage passed over Silviu’s face, and he raised a hand. It burned bright red with flame, and he hurled the fireball directly at Grey.
Instead of dodging, Grey stepped into it, taking the blast on the chest. It exploded around him, enveloping his form, and he seemed to glow briefly, growing stronger.
“You’ve forgotten my particular talent,” Grey said, a smile in his voice.
“Bastard,” Silviu hissed, annoyance in the tone.
“I learned the gift here, you know.” Grey approached slowly, like a predator. “Adapted to survive. To escape.”
“You’ll not escape this time.” Silviu prowled closer.
Grey
Silviu stared at me, rage in his eyes. His time alone in this castle had twisted his mind. He was still powerful—massively so.
But rage drove him now.
He would make mistakes.
It made it even easier to manipulate his thoughts.
I imbued my voice with power, letting my magic flow through my words and into him. “You will let us leave unharmed.”
“You know that does not work on me,” Silviu muttered, stalking closer, moving like a panther out for a kill.
“Doesn’t work well.” I smiled. “But it does work.”
He growled.
“You will not fight us,” I said.
His steps stuttered, as if his body fought to stop him from walking, yet his mind wanted to force him to keep going. He pushed onward, moving more slowly, his brow furrowed with effort.
“I will punish you for this,” he hissed.
“Your ability to do that disappeared long ago.” I charged, hurtling toward him with every bit of speed and rage that filled my body.
Protect.
I could feel Carrow behind me, no doubt debating which angle to attack from. I wanted to finish this before she even tried. She shouldn’t be anywhere near Silviu.
I reached him a half second later, raising my fist and delivering a swift punch to his jaw. He spun backward, staggering. The pain seemed to have shocked him free of my mind control, and he whirled toward me, slamming me down.
He fell upon me, swinging for my face as his speed took me to the ground. Before he could land the blow, I kicked up, hitting him in the stomach and hurling him off of me.
He flew into the nearby wall. I stood, and he straightened. We collided in a blur of fists. Silviu landed a hard blow to my jaw, making pain flare. I felt the bone crack, the agony nearly blinding me. Instinct drove my movements, and I returned the blow, striking twice in a row.
Thoughts of Carrow fueled me, making me stronger, faster.
Silviu raised a fist for another punch, but I blocked, putting all my strength into my next blow. My fist slammed into his jaw, radiating pain up my arm. He sailed backward and landed in a heap, lying still.
Unconscious.
I turned toward Carrow, who stood nearby, a dagger and a potion bomb clutched in each hand.
“You never gave me an opening,” she said.
The corner of my mouth quirked up in a small smile, but pain from my broken jaw made starbursts explode behind my eyes. “Come. He’ll regain consciousness soon.”