Chapter 48 #2
I’m scared to peel my eyes off him. “I love you,” I declare, then I look ahead. Grey-blue light fills the large space. Now that I’m inside, I see four more entrances, all caved in.
Rubble and debris are scattered on the floor. But like the tunnel we used, this room withstood the collapse. Three dozen men could easily occupy the space. This must have been a safe shelter if the castle was invaded. They planned to run down here, regroup, or flee.
There in the corner is the source of the heartbeat. A grey-blue shield of magic, with glowing veins thumping with life. Torin’s sacrifice, his death magic he forced into a cage over, “The Vitalis,” I murmur in awe.
I don’t know what I expected. Something small, held in your hand like a normal book. It’s not small. It’s large, giving the user enough space to draw intricate details, making runes hard to duplicate.
The pages are an odd shade of metallic, like gold and platinum threads were woven or melted together so tightly that they became smooth, like a fingerprint, still flexible to push a pen against. The front and back covers of the book are pulled back, exposing the inner pages—the guts and heart.
Deep in my chest, I know the book is in agony. With each beat of Torin’s death cage, the pages flap, but there in the center, the movement stills, pinned down.
The most magnificent sword I have ever laid eyes on skewers it like a piece of meat.
To cement everything Everett and Elderan told me, the skeleton lying on the floor is proof.
It’s Torin’s bones. Hector spots it as I do.
Sable steps closer, bends down and grabs a bone.
Chin held high, she looks at the cage of death, pulls her elbow back and tosses the bone at it.
As soon as the bone comes into contact with the cage, it disintegrates.
“Everyone coos over the birth of life, but there is nothing like the awe struck silence death can produce. It’s magnificent,” sable mumbles to herself. “It’s what I want. Silence.”
If silence is what you seek, why do you conceive such resounding chaos, Sable?
Titus begins to raise his hands, trying to slide the mage cuffs off. Sofia strides forward, desperately shaking her head. Pleading for us to wait. Her movements cause Hector and Sable to spin around.
“Don’t let them touch, Sofia!” Sable scorns. Her long hair flows with the freedom I long for.
“I’m separating them.” Sofia dips her chin, grabs my hand, and tugs me away.
Sable rolls her eyes, then looks at Hector. “Melt it.” She runs her fingers down his back.
Ignoring her smirk, I examine the blade; its intricate design suggests a master smith. Set within the pommel is a glowing gem not of this land. It appears to be a source of magic, transforming into rainbows of color that captivate us all.
The grip shines, as if a star’s inner light, twisted and melted into a cable pattern, powered it. Etchings cover the blade that suggest a language, a narrative, or both.
“It’s happening,” Sable gloats as she looks at the book. The first page has a rune, but it’s faint, as if the ink wept from the pain of the sword stabbing it. “I’m going to start with Solaria. The home you loved.”
Hector’s hands raise; his magic slithers out, hissing like sand, seeping through the beating death cage. His body reacts as the magic encircles the sword, but nothing results. His neck muscles throb as he makes another attempt.
The sword does not bend or melt under his touch.
“Sable!” he shouts. “Come. Torin’s magic must be blocking mine.”
Sable hurries to his side. “We don’t need to save the pages. I’m telling you, new pages will regenerate—”
“I told you, I do not have time to learn how to create new runes! I want those runes!” Hector jabs a finger at the book. “That is why I did not let you kill your twin. I need her to heal the pages! Do you understand?” Sable tries to nod as her face flushes in shame.
A wave of stillness freezes my frantic heart. That’s how I fit in.
“You want the runes on your body to work,” I surmise. Everett didn’t place me in Titus’s life because I was his mate. Being mated is our biggest foe in my brother’s eyes. It’s a distraction.
Everett saw a way to slay this problem—to keep Titus focused.
Everett warned me; I ignored him, and in that bliss, I found love. But ignorant bliss is a cloud. Clouds move, dissipate. They make way for a new horizon.
My true purpose is to heal the book so Titus doesn’t have to start from scratch. After that, I am useless.
“That’s the plan,” Hector replies. He steps back, eyeing the book with a deep longing. “Sable is going to get me the book; you will heal it.” He glances at Sable, showing a strange kind of affection. “And then I’m going to help Sable destroy everything.
“Now get me the book, baby.” He guides Sable to the cage.
I can practically feel her anxiety churn my stomach. She reaches for Torin’s cage, hesitating before plunging her hand inside. The steady beating of the heart skips a beat and then panics, wildly filling the room, invading our ears, trying to change our own hearts.
Sofia slaps her hands over her ears, then looks back at Titus and voices, “Not yet.”
She wants Sable to free the book before we attack. Titus struggles, pushing his wrists against the tight cuffs. It’s stuck on his thumb. I recoil in discomfort as I witness him breaking his finger so he can slip free.
Sable’s fully inside the cage now, hovering over the book, her death magic spreading out from her feet, crawling up Torin’s wall, spreading her rot.
How long will it take until Torin’s cage crumbles?
“Pull the sword out,” Hector orders her. She obeys, wrapping her fingers around the sword. But there’s no way she can pull it free; it’s dug deep into the rock.
Her spine tenses, her shoulder rolls back. “I feel…” she tugs the sword. Metal lacerates rock. The sword begins to move! “Powerful.” With a tilted head, her gaze lingers on the sword, more so than on the Vitalis. Sable pulls it forth with some unknown magic.
How did she do that!
Hector looks back at his sister as if he’s falling with no net. Sofia nods as a tear drips down her cheeks.
Sable swings the sword somewhat clumsily. The tip touches Torin’s cage; one small touch, and the heartbeat stops. A ripple of energy surges, howling and thundering, then just as Everett’s magic vanishes, so too does Torin’s death cage. A static charge stings us all.
I breathe in tight, electric air, quickly exhaling it. My lungs scream for deep breaths.
The Vitalis is free. No one dares to move. Titus exhales a million emotions in one breath. His thumb is swollen and broken, but he frees his other hand and then coats his fingers in fire.
I begin to smile. Am I celebrating too soon?
He looks at me with lust, longing, stability, and promises of forever. “I love you,” he states. Fire licks up his forearms. He pulls his arm back, and a larger ball of fire fills his palm. The room flickers with orange shades, altering the others.
I step aside. My smile is wide, ready to watch him fight, not only for my honor but for a future where everyone can be free.
Titus twists, ready to throw. Right as he swings, I turn to look at my twin.
What happened?
The certainty of the future Everett died for is in question, tossed like a coin. What side will it land on?