Chapter 53
The creaking of wood shook Felix awake, and when he found the mattress beside him empty, he cursed and sat up.
“Marlow,” he hissed as he fumbled with his prosthetic, and by the time he had it firmly back in place, she was already on her feet. When they reached the top of the stairs, they both came to an abrupt halt.
Felix wasn’t surprised to see the tear in the veil. He figured the coward had run.
However, the four ministry officers forcing their way through the front door were quite the shock.
A ferocious gust of wind threw him backward, and he hit the wall with bone-jarring force, the impact splintering the wood with a sharp crack and sending down a shower of debris.
Felix crumpled to his hands and knees.
Cheaters.
The room lit up with the pale pink of wielder fire.
Felix jumped to the side, barely avoiding the fireball. It burst against the wall behind him and caught on the aging wood. Flames lapped up the wall, the heat intense against his skin.
He cursed, searching for Marlow, relieved to see she was on her feet, unharmed.
Loud footsteps pounded up the stairs, then Gideon and four others spilled out into the large room.
Felix summoned his magic and focused on the counterfeit flamewielder.
“Burn them!” he ordered, turning him on the other officers. More pink flames went out, catching sections of the house on fire and sending out plumes of thick smoke.
He lost line of sight and the man slipped from his control. As he moved to follow, August pushed back through the tear, his silver rings glowing.
Felix frowned. Why did he come back?
August doubled over, and another officer pushed through the smoke toward him.
“Look out!” Felix called.
August looked up in surprise, then disappeared back through the tear, closing it behind him.
Felix drew his gun as the officer whirled on him. Another tear split the air—this one directly behind the man. In a blink, the officer was gone, yanked backward through the veil. A heartbeat later, it sealed shut.
Despite himself, Felix barked a short, sharp laugh.
A waterwielder from Gideon’s group worked to extinguish the flames as the others rushed the remaining officers.
Felix shot one in the chest. Gideon buried his saber in another.
A new tear opened, and August appeared, slicing a dagger across the throat of the last officer.
Felix met his gaze and quirked a brow.
That was a very un-August thing to do.
“Get the door,” Gideon called.
Felix dragged his attention back to the others. The bodies on the ground were all ministry. They’d lost none of their own.
The fire was out, leaving only a few glowing embers, and the last tendrils of grey smoke curled through the gaping maw of the dark entryway. Felix coughed, his throat burning from the smell of charred wood and burned flesh.
Marlow closed the front door, and Gideon dragged a tattered armchair across the room, its legs scraping over the floorboards as he pressed it against the door. The others hurried back down the stairs.
August closed the last tear, obviously trying hard to keep the agony from his face.
“You should sit,” Felix said.
“I’m fine.” His pinched expression betrayed his lie. “I just need a second to—”
He swayed, and Felix rushed forward instinctively to steady him before he could fall.
“You are not fine.”
August’s head lolled forward, his curls falling over his eyes, and Felix glanced nervously at the door. It wasn’t safe here. They needed to gather some supplies and get the hell out.
“Think you can make it to the cellar?”
When August didn’t answer, he cupped his face, tilting his head up to look at him.
Felix winced.
That wasn’t good.
He ran a thumb over the darkened veins that crept up beside August’s lips. His eyes were black from lid to lid.
“Perhaps I’m not fine after all,” August murmured, the words barely audible.
Without warning, August’s legs gave out. Felix caught him, holding tight, but his own footing slipped, and he fell back against the wall. Together, they collapsed to the ground.
“Auggie,” Felix said, pulling his unconscious body in close, heart pounding a frantic beat as he looked up at the empty room. “Marlow!”
Quick, light footsteps on the creaking stairs.
“I’m here.” She tossed him the jacket he’d left downstairs, and her face sobered when she saw August.
“Heal him,” said Felix.
A pause. “I can’t.”
“Try!”
Marlow sighed sharply, then dropped to her knees beside them, setting August’s balled-up cloak on the floor. She pressed her hands to August’s chest, her rings glowing red.
Nothing happened.
Felix glared at her when she pulled her hands back. “No. Keep going!”
“Felix,” she said, her voice strained. “I went through this when it happened to you. Whatever that place does, I can’t fix it.”
Fear and panic buzzed inside him, wild and unyielding.
Come on, Auggie, he pleaded silently.
A faint metallic clink as something slipped from August’s hand onto the wooden floor. Marlow picked it up and turned it over. It looked like the finding token they’d gotten from the apothecary, but the engraving was different.
The sound of footsteps sounded outside.
Felix perked up and shot Marlow a warning look. With the curfew heavily enforced, the only people on the streets would be the Watch and the ministry.
They needed to go. But he couldn’t leave August.
“I can try something to shake him awake,” Marlow whispered. “But it won’t work if he’s too deep under.”
Felix nodded quickly.
“Lay him flat.”
He complied. “What are you going to do?”
She handed him the token, then leaned over August, wrapping her hands around his arms. “Gonna make him feel like his insides are on fire. Hard to sleep through that.”
Before the words had time to land, her rings shone red.
August’s body thrashed, and he gasped as he shot upright. He was still for a moment, eyes wide with shock, then his usual scowl snapped back in place, and he glared between them.
His eyes were back to normal. That was a good sign.
Voices came from out front, and Felix’s gaze cut to the barricaded door. It was a pathetic attempt. Not even enough to slow them down.
He stood and shrugged on his jacket, pocketing the token. “Open the veil.”
The scowl deepened. “Seriously, Felix? Do I look like I can open the veil right now?”
“We have to go warn the others,” Marlow said, but Felix grabbed her hand before she could bolt down the stairs.
They might have been able to handle the Watch, if they all fought together, but even with the eleven in the cellar, they couldn’t take on more drugged ministry.
If they went back down there, they’d be trapped, and none of them would make it out.
“There’s no time,” Felix said.
The familiar words sliced open a wound that had been long-stitched shut, and Felix caught his breath at the sudden wave of grief.
He clenched his jaw, pushing it away.
“We need to run.”
Marlow’s brow cinched. “But they’ll die.”
“So will we if we don’t get out.”
August snatched up his cloak and pushed unsteadily to his feet, already slogging toward the shattered back window when a heavy thud rattled the front door.
Marlow hesitated, then hurried past to slide through first. When she landed on the street outside, she turned to help August.
Felix went through last, his feet barely touching the cobblestones before the door crashed open, the sound echoing off the buildings. Marlow glanced back at the window, but Felix seized her hand and pulled her into the shadows of the empty street.