Chapter 18
Eighteen
My prison cell is clotted with books.
The two Hollows who escorted me, the poor man from before and a vacant-eyed, white-haired female, release my arms the moment my cell door opens and shove me inside with such force, I slam against the nearest column and send the old, dusty tomes tumbling to the grimy floor.
They may be empty husks, but they are Void-level strong.
Rubbing my side, I right myself and turn to them, but they’ve disappeared, their feet as soundless as their tongues.
Now that I’m standing without assistance, it doesn’t take long to sway and nearly pass out. I slump against a sturdier column of books set against one wall.
A note flutters down the minute my shoulder hits the pile, landing in my lap. It touches my body with such delicate grace, like a sweet, gentle brush that I haven’t felt since being ripped from my village, that tears flow into my vision.
Sniffing hard, I rub them away and flip the note over to read.
Initiate,
You are to study each and every one of these texts. That is, if you can read. However, if you’ve gotten this far with my letter, then I will report to the Order of the Veil Keepers that you are progressing into your second trial and no imminent Hollowing is necessary.
Memorize everything. Learn control. I cannot stress that enough.
And for the love of all that is our godly siblings Lux and Nox: Stop. Fighting. Me.
Your Resonant
“Fucking bastard,” I whisper through a crimp in my throat, crumpling the letter and tossing it anywhere but in my hands. It bounces off the nearest stack and hits me in the forehead, which leaves me so furious that I kick out with my leg and topple the offending pile.
“Do you mind keeping it down over there?” a small, female voice pipes up from nowhere.
My back turns ramrod straight. Turning this way and that, I can’t pinpoint the source.
“Who said that?” I ask.
My voice is unrecognizable. It’s the first words I’ve spoken that didn’t contain curses, begging, or screaming. I rub my throat, mourning the loss of my innocence.
“Your neighbor,” the voice replies dryly. “These walls aren’t exactly soundproof, you know.”
I turn to face the eastern brick wall, leaning through two columns of books and pressing closer to the sound of her voice.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize anyone was so near.”
A humorless chuckle. “Oh, there are plenty of us down here. The forgotten ones, the ones they’ve given up on. The ones they’re just waiting to Hollow.”
“Yes. Falc—Elite Reaves, the one who brought me here, said as much.”
Is that to be my fate as well? If I don’t submit to Falcen, will I be forgotten, abandoned, left to rot in this cell until my soul withers away and I become an empty husk?
“I’m Verily,” I say, suddenly desperate for any sort of human connection, even if it’s just a disembodied voice through stone. “What’s your name?”
There’s a long pause, and for a second I think she won’t respond. But then, quietly: “Calliope. But most people just call me Callie.”
I press my palm flat against the stone, as if I could reach through and touch her. “It’s nice to meet you, Callie. I wish it were under better circumstances.”
“Better circumstances,” she repeats with a snort. “That’s a fantasy in this place.”
I cross my legs, getting comfortable. “How long have you been in here?”
“Too long. I’ve lost track of the days. Fortnights. Maybe months.”
My heart squeezes at the hopelessness in her voice. Leaning my head back against a stack, I close my eyes. “I don’t want to become what they want. I don’t want to be hard and bitter and evil.”
You already have.
It’s not the ember that says it—it’s me. Ever since consuming, killing, those Echoes, there’s been a fizz in my blood, like I’ve consumed too much greyberry wine on an empty stomach. It’s left me restless, yet exhausted. Primed, yet defeated.
“There has to be a way out of here,” I say.
Callie laughs, but it’s devoid of any real mirth.
“If there was a way out, I would’ve found it by now.
Face it, Verily. We’re stuck here. The sooner you accept that, the easier it will be.
” Her voice trails off, and I hear a faint shuffling, like she’s adjusting her position, too.
“It all blurs together after a while. The hunger, the cold, the darkness. It seeps into your bones until you forget what it’s like to feel anything else. ”
I shiver, pulling my knees up to my chest. The thought of enduring that, of losing myself entirely to this place, terrifies me more than anything Falcen has done so far. I gnaw on my lower lip, tasting the metallic hint of blood.
I cast my gaze around the cramped space, taking in the towers of ancient tomes, their spines cracked and pages yellowed with age. A fine layer of dust coats everything, and I absently draw swirling patterns in it with my finger.
“So ... what did you do?” I venture tentatively. “To end up here, I mean.”
Callie takes so long responding, I’m sure she’s decided to ignore me until she says, “Same as you, probably. Wasn’t good enough. Didn’t have the right connections. Pissed off the wrong people upstairs.”
I push my lips to the side, still absently doodling. “I was never upstairs. At the academy, I mean.”
There’s a sharp intake of breath from the other side of the wall. Callie’s voice rises in pitch, disbelief coloring her tone. “Then how in the hells did you end up in the catacombs?”
I wince, the memories still raw and sharp-edged. “I ... I don’t know exactly. My magick just manifested out of nowhere. And then an Elite came and…”
I’m unable to finish. It’s impossible to describe my journey with Falcen, as I’m sure Callie has witnessed his treatment of me down here. And I refuse to be one of those dreamy-eyed women who excuse such behavior with, He was so different with me when we were alone, I swear it…
“Lux’s shite,” Callie breathes. “You’re a complete novice. No training, no preparation. And Resonant Reaves was sent to get you. You’re sure of it?”
“Is that ... unusual?” I ask hesitantly.
A harsh, bitter laugh escapes her. “Unusual? That’s the understatement of the century.
Resonant Reaves is a legend. They say he’s one of the most powerful Soulren the academy has ever produced.
He’s their top enforcer for the dirtiest, most dangerous missions.
” Her voice drops. “Or at least, he was. Until he decided to walk away.”
I pull my brows in. “Walk away?”
“He escaped. Months ago.” The words come out clipped, bitter.
“First one to ever manage it. Just vanished one night, and suddenly, the academy’s prized weapon is gone.
Their most lethal enforcer, and he just—” She breaks off, and I hear something like pain beneath the gossip.
“And now here he is, back again, personally collecting untrained novices. Makes you wonder what could possibly be worth coming back for, doesn’t it? ”
I sense layers I’m not meant to understand in that question. “I didn’t know any of that. He never told me.”
“Of course he didn’t.” The venom in her voice is startling. “Falcen Reaves doesn’t explain himself to anyone. Doesn’t owe anyone anything, apparently. Not even—” When she continues, her voice is careful. “He keeps everyone in the dark. Makes them easier to use. Easier to discard.”
Curiosity gnaws at me, along with an odd shiver of jealousy. Who is Falcen to this girl? An ex? It certainly sounds that way. And I certainly despise being jealous of her. Falcen doesn’t deserve it. “What else do you know about him?”
There’s a long pause.
“Stories, mostly,” Callie finally says. “Rumors passed around the dorms. They say he once single-handedly wiped out an entire nest of Voidspawn that had been terrorizing a village. That he can suck the soul right out of you with just a look. That he’s cold as the Void itself, feels no remorse, no pity. ”
“More Voidspawn than man,” I murmur, remembering my own convictions.
“Yes.” Her agreement comes out flat. “That’s exactly what he is now.
Whatever Falcen was before he escaped, whatever reasons he had, whatever he cared about, none of it matters anymore.
He came back, exactly like the monster they made him become.
” She sighs. “Falcen Reaves is as cruel as he is beautiful. Eyes of ice that see straight into your soul, yet rimmed in Lux’s light.
Hair so dark he must have Nox’s touch, and a face that could make the gods’ children weep.
But there’s nothing truly godlike about him, not really. ”
I wrap my arms around myself, believing her every word.
The more time that passes down here, the less I can picture the warrior who defended me against Void hounds, the man who lay bleeding and wounded and learned to heal, the almost-lover that I kissed, our lips molding to each other’s.
It was so brief, but so gods-damned electric that I can’t stop thinking about it. Of him. Or … of who I thought he was.
“He’s a demon in human form,” Callie continues, her voice empty. “And the worst part? He chose to come back. Whatever game he’s playing, whatever he wants, it was worth returning to this hell. Just not worth bringing anyone else with him when he left.”
Suddenly, I don’t want to talk about Falcen anymore. I clear my throat, eager to change the subject. “All I know is that I’m stuck in this cell, and Resonant Reaves expects me to somehow learn everything in these dusty old tomes.”
“Wait, he left you books?” Callie perks up.
“An entire library’s worth,” I confirm, running my fingers along the horizontal spines. “Histories of Vehloria, treaties on soul-rendering, compendiums of Void creatures...”
I pull out a particularly hefty volume off the top of one pile, its cover embossed with intricate silver filigree.
“This one’s called The Veils of Perception: Navigating the Liminal Spaces Between Life and Death.
Sounds like a real page-turner,” I mutter sarcastically.
“This is a years’ worth of material. Possibly decades.
How am I supposed to memorize all this?”
There’s a heavy pause from the other side of the wall.
“They’re not really expecting you to,” Callie finally says, softened with pity. “This is how they operate. They give you an impossible task and wait for you to fail, then use that as justification for whatever punishments they want to inflict.”
I shake my head vigorously, even though she can’t see me. “No, no, that can’t be true. If I’m so rare, why would he…”
But the Falcen I thought I knew, the one who protected me and kissed me with such passion, was he ever real? Or was it just another mask, another manipulation tactic?
“Listen to me.” The urgency in Callie’s tone redirects my thoughts.
“If you want to survive this, start with the basics, the fundamentals of soul-rendering. Don’t get lost in the histories and philosophies, not yet.
Practical skills first. You’re obviously important.
Important enough for Reaves himself to collect you.
That gives you power, even if it doesn’t feel like it right now. ”
I frown, trying to wrap my head around her logic. “What kind of power?”
“The power to surprise them,” she explains.
I nod, pulling myself up straighter. She’s right.
I can’t afford to wallow in self-pity or what-ifs.
I stand abruptly, ignoring the wave of dizziness that washes over me, and stop at one of the towering stacks of books, glaring at them as if they’re the source of all my troubles.
And in a way, they are. A physical representation of the insurmountable task before me.
But then, a flicker of an idea sparks to life. I turn back to the wall separating me from Callie.
“You’ve been through the academy training, right?” I ask, hope rising in my voice. “You know this material.”
After a long silence, I fear I’ve overstepped, asked too much of this stranger who owes me nothing. But then Callie speaks, her tone cautious but not entirely dismissive.
“I ... I was an adept, before. A second year.” I can hear the pain in her voice, the weight of unspoken trauma. “I remember some of it, yes.”
I step closer to our shared wall, pressing my palm against the cold stone as if I could reach through and clasp her hand. “I know we just met, but I need your help.”
“You want me to... what? Tutor you?” She sounds incredulous.
“Yes,” I say firmly. “Teach me what you know. Help me make sense of these texts. I’ll study hard, I swear it. And in return...” I take a deep breath. “In return, I’ll find a way to get us both out of this prison.”
A bitter laugh passes through the stone. “You really are new, aren’t you? There is no way out. Not for me. Probably not for you, either.”
I set my jaw. “I refuse to believe that. While I’m alive, there’s hope. And right now, you and these books are the only chance I have.”
The silence stretches so long again, I’m sure she’s going to refuse. But then, a resigned sigh. “Very well, I’ll help you. Not like I have anything better to do in this shitehole anyway.”
Relief floods through me, and I slump against the wall. “Thank you, Callie. You have no idea how much this means to me.”
“Yeah, well, don’t thank me yet,” she grumbles. “This material is as dense as Nox’s heart and twice as confusing. We’ll be lucky if your brain doesn’t leak out of your ears by the end of it.”
Despite the direness of the situation, a small smile tugs at my lips. “I think I’ll take my chances. My brain’s always been my best feature, after all.”
Callie snorts. “Careful, Initiate. Pride goeth before the fall and all that.”
“Please, call me Verily.” I settle cross-legged on the floor, pulling the first book into my lap. “And I think you’ll find I’m quite skilled at landing on my feet. It’s a specialty of mine, really.”