CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR #2
No one argues. I follow Tiernon and the rest of our group back up the stairs. He jerks his head to the right. “Arvelle and I will search this section. The rest of you split up.”
I wait until they’re gone before following Tiernon into our section. Spectators continue to watch the chariots, although several are staring blankly ahead, tears pouring down their faces.
Did they lose loved ones? Or are they merely traumatized because the violence was so close to them, and not down on rough sand, happening to people they’ve never met?
Tiernon meets my gaze before turning away to scan our section. He’s still furious that I manipulated my way into the imperius. “The vampires have found a way to shoot aether grenades with crossbows,” he says. “They’re going to aim for the emperor.”
My pulse races. Maybe they’ll succeed. Maybe this can all be over.
Tiernon shakes his head at whatever he sees on my face. “The loss of life would be catastrophic. My father knows the attack is coming but refuses to leave.”
“Why?”
“Pride. Besides, Sigilkeeper Nistor is the best shielder in this empire. The vampires won’t kill the emperor. They’ll just murder more innocent people.”
We search section after section, attempting to not draw attention to ourselves as we walk by each row, scanning faces.
“Tell me something,” I murmur as Tiernon stands at the top of one section, eyes narrowed on a group of vampires. But they’re focused solely on the chariots, money changing hands as they place their bets. “Why would vampires want the emperor dead?”
He gives me an amused look. “You truly think every vampire in this empire is pleased with my father’s rule?”
I know they’re not. But what I don’t understand is why.
“Forgive me for my ignorance. I’m just a lowly sigilmarked from the Thorn.”
His eyes flicker, and I know he regrets his patronizing tone. “Some vampires believe the sigilmarked could give us access to the sun if they chose to.”
We move to the next section, and I lean close to him. “But it was Mortuus who took the sun from you.”
Tiernon sighs. “The—”
His eyes narrow, becoming glazed.
“What is it?” I ask.
“Lucius says one of the vampires was spotted downstairs in the lower exit.”
Lucius is currently high in the stands on the other side of the Circus, which means he’s capable of mindpathing over a substantial distance.
Tiernon’s expression hardens. “Lucius will notify the others and they’ll approach from that side. We need to take the vampire quickly and quietly. The emperor doesn’t want the public to learn that the rebels have gotten this close.”
His hold on his power lessens, and for the barest moment, it swamps me until he regains control, frustration written all over his face.
Tiernon seethes with more than enough power to make this problem go away in the blink of an eye.
The emperor is happy to create a scene when his citizens are being burned alive, but gods forbid people know his enemies are here under his nose.
“We’ll split up,” I say. “You approach from that direction, and I’ll go this way.”
Tiernon snorts. “Absolutely not.”
“How badly do you need to capture these vampires?” I hiss, and Tiernon lets out a low growl.
“Fine. Go.”
I sprint down the stairs while Tiernon moves toward the other aisle. We’ll both arrive through separate doors downstairs, hopefully distracting the vampire.
Neris hurtles past me, blazingly fast, and I follow in her footsteps. To our right, I spot Micah doing the same.
By the time we get through the exit beneath the stands, the vampire is cornered, his back to the wall, Tiernon prowling toward him. On his right, Micah and Lucius stand, blocking any chance for him to flee.
The vampire is delicately built, his eyes darting to each of the imperiums surrounding him. Thin lips pull back from his fangs, but I can see the panic in the hands fisting at his sides.
“It’s over,” Micah says.
“It will never be over. Not until Vallius Corvus is dead.”
I can get behind that. If only these vampires weren’t so willing to take out innocents to get what they want.
The vampire’s satchel is at his feet. He has no chance to get to his weapons. But his gaze flicks to Tiernon, and suddenly, I don’t see a vampire at all. I see Loyd Gatlin, and the desperate, hunted look in his eyes three years ago. Right before he killed himself and eight innocent people.
Resignation flickers over the vampire’s face, followed immediately by determination.
He reaches into his pocket.
“Get down!” I scream.
I’ll give the imperiums some credit. They don’t hesitate. All of them hit the ground. All of them except Tiernon, who whirls, eyes filled with horror as he launches himself toward me.
We’re all going to die.
No. My brothers need me.
The vampire lifts his hand. The aether grenade is gold and white. How strange that something so deadly has been crafted with so much care.
The grenade drops in slow motion. Tiernon is still in the air. He’s going to be blown to pieces.
I raise my arm, instinctively shielding my face as I duck.
The ground bucks beneath me. Heat sears my face as I brace for the flames to engulf me.
Tiernon slams into me with a thud. I’m fighting him instantly, attempting to throw him off me, to see how badly he’s hurt.
“Healer!” I’m screaming the word over and over.
“Arvelle.” Tiernon grips my chin, his eyes burning into mine. “I’m fine.”
Tears roll down my cheeks and all I can do is stare at him.
His expression turns strangely tender. “You do care.”
I hiccup. “Of course I care, you idiot.”
His mouth covers mine, and I bury my hands in his hair, holding him close. He’s alive. We’re both alive. I don’t know how many of the others are dead. I’m too scared to look.
Tiernon lifts his head, and I make myself peer around his shoulder. A rainbow of shields have been raised between the imperius and the vampire rebel. Micah and Neris slowly get to their feet, and the purple and green shields disappear.
The last shield—a glimmering silvery blue—stays in place.
Impossible.
“It’s a griffon ward,” Micah breathes.
I crane my head, but of course there’s no griffon to be seen. “I don’t understand.”
Tiernon’s gaze drops to my forehead and the muscles next to his eyes tense. “It’s you.”
“What?”
“Your sigil is glowing. The ward is yours.”
“It can’t be.” I’ve never had enough power to shield. The defensibility of a shield is directly related to power. To shield, a sigil has to have grown—
Wait. It has. Twice now, I’ve noticed growth where there was previously nothing but smooth skin.
Slowly, hand trembling, I reach toward the shield. It’s a cool, calm caress against my fingertips. It is mine. I’m … I’m not broken. The mindpathing wasn’t an accident of fate. I have power. Real power.
Antigrus gave me this power. He wanted me to have it.
“Use it well.”
In the most private part of my soul, where I’ve tucked away the worst this world has offered me, something broken and scarred begins to heal.
Tiernon hauls me to my feet. “Drop the shield. Now. Before anyone else sees.”
Panic grows inside my chest. “How?”
“Close your eyes.” His voice turns soothing. “That’s right, relax. Now picture a pond so still, not even a ripple disturbs the surface.”
Tiernon talks me through it, until the ward disappears. Distantly, I’m aware of Neris and the others murmuring quietly.
“No blood. The vampire escaped.”
“Lucius and the others are on that exit. They’ll capture him.”
I manage to drop the shield, already mourning its loss, and Tiernon takes my hand, turning to the others. “You didn’t see that shield.” His tone doesn’t leave any room for argument, and they both nod. “Let’s go.”
Neris steps close. “Don’t ever let anyone see you use that power. It will cost you your life.”
Lucius, Deitra, and Orna stand next to the exit, all of them expressionless. Orna takes one look at my hand clasped in Tiernon’s and sneers. “Glad you had time to flirt while the rest of us were trying to stay alive.”
I start to wriggle my fingers free. Tiernon squeezes once and releases my hand, sending Orna an impatient look. “Where is the vampire?”
“He got past us,” Lucius growls, shaking his head as if he still can’t believe it. “I don’t know how, but—”
“Excuses,” the emperor hisses. A sense of foreboding washes over me, as he stalks toward us, Drugov Nistor on one side, Rorrik on the other. A group of Praesidium guards surround them, hands on their weapons. More guards stand near the exit, blocking any who might attempt to use it.
Rorrik’s eyes meet mine. “Already working with the imperius? You’re about to see what that truly means.”
A ball of dread expands beneath my ribs, as Rorrik turns his attention to Tiernon.
Tiernon cuts his eyes to Micah, who steps in front of me, until I’m neatly hidden within the group of imperiums.
“Did you miss the part where I demanded discretion?” the emperor asks, and I peer around Micah’s shoulder.
Tiernon shakes his head. “There were extenuating circumstances.”
“And yet you still don’t have him.” The emperor studies Tiernon as if considering how much his son’s death will truly impact him. My entire body begins to tremble.
“That was my fault, Dominus,” Lucius says. “He got past me.”
“Silence,” Tiernon orders, his eyes wild.
But it’s too late. The emperor pins Tiernon with a frigid look. “Take care of this.”
“Dominus …” The word is a low rasp, and horror flickers in Tiernon’s eyes. “Please. I beg of you to show mercy.”
The emperor gives a single slice of his head, pointing at Lucius.
A muscle twitches in Tiernon’s cheek, and his lips thin. The emperor’s eyes light with cold fury.
“Allow me, Father,” Rorrik purrs. “You know I enjoy such things.”
Lucius meets Rorrik’s eyes, and I know they’re having a private conversation. Lucius gives Rorrik a grim nod.
“No.” The word is out of my mouth before I can stop it. It’s little more than a croak of protest, but Rorrik sends a single burning glance my way, and my throat clamps shut.
Tiernon stiffens. Micah takes a step closer to me.
I stare Rorrik in the eyes. “No. No, no, no. Please. Please, don’t do it.”
His mouth goes rigid. “Look away, Arvelle.”
It’s the first time Rorrik has said my name, and it’s enough to make me lose my grip on the mindpath between us. A heavy wall appears in my mind.
No, it’s not my mind. It’s Rorrik’s. He’s blocked me out.
I claw at it, slamming into it again and again.
On my left, Tiernon trembles with suppressed rage.
Rorrik gives his brother a look I can’t decipher, but it reminds me of the look he gave me the day after I killed Tiberius Cotta. “You’re going to have to fight harder than this if you’re going to survive here.”
Tiernon doesn’t move. Lucius’s gaze flicks between Rorrik and Tiernon. “It’s not your—”
In a movement so fast his arm is a blur, Rorrik rips out Lucius’s heart.
I stare, uncomprehending, as Lucius slumps to the ground.
Dead. He’s really dead.
Just hours ago he was sitting in front of me, his brow lowered as he examined his cards.
I open my mouth in a silent scream. Rorrik drops Lucius’s heart on the ground and stalks away.
I shriek soundlessly again and again and again.