31 #3
“Sorry, old boy,” she said, batting the dust off his coat. “Forgot about that. Instincts of a criminal, don’t you know.”
“Regrettably, I do,” said Gloriana. At once, a ringing swell of power blossomed out between them. Myria staggered as it pushed her back like a vibrating sheet of glass, forcing her toward the wall.
Then, Felix raised his hands and stepped between them.
“Centurion, wait,” he said sharply. Gloriana shot a testing look at him. Even so, the press of power stopped abruptly, and the spell flashed in a circle around Myria. The air turned as solid as concrete.
“What happened, Felix?” said Gloriana, brow carved with worry. “I felt that pulse from across the city. I thought you’d burned out!”
“I had to use my power,” he said. “It’s alright. I kept it under control.”
Lightning flashed across Gloriana’s countenance, and Myria spied something she’d never thought to see written on that woman. Fear.
“Pantheon above, you’re lucky to be alive. I couldn’t find you. All the arcanic signals from the manufactories . . . But you’re unharmed. You caught her. Can she do it?”
“Can I unlock that box, you mean?” asked Myria. The centurion’s eyes snapped to her, full of threat. She answered with a brazen smile.
“Afraid not, ma’am. Only Vixius can open it, and only by free will. Those old Isran arcani knew their business.”
“Then why the blazes did you steal it?”
Myria could feel the centurion’s anger coming to a boil from across the room. Silver lacerations peppered the air about her fingertips, and Felix took a step back.
“They were going to trick Vixius into opening it willingly,” he said. “I’m afraid our . . . intervention sabotaged the plan. He saw it was a simulacrum, thought she’d betrayed him, and ran her through.”
“Then how’s the damned woman still moving?” Gloriana shot back.
“I healed her.”
She looked at him for one disbelieving moment before misery split the anger in her face. At once, Myria knew; she’d seen how it had to end.
“Felix, why didn’t you leave her to die?” said the centurion, despair cracking her voice. “You’d have been free.”
Felix drew breath, but gave no reply. Perhaps he doesn’t know how to lie to her, thought Myria, or perhaps he just doesn’t know the answer.
Gloriana set her jaw and turned to her prisoner.
“Miss Cadessa, you have one chance, and one only. If you unlock that device, I’ll let you and your friends live. If you can’t—”
“Ma’am, you gave your vow!”
“I know, Felix, but things have changed,” she said. Her words came in tense, strained bites, as though she forced them out through the jaws of an unwilling machine.
“I can’t unlock it,” Myria said briskly. “I was going to trick Vixius, but that game’s dashed, thanks to you. You weaved the noose, old girl, and now it’s going to hang us both, so best get on with it.”
With that, she turned a brief, sad smile on Felix.
“I always knew she’d kill us once we’d finished,” she added in a gentler voice. “Try not to take it too hard, old boy. Graysiders never live that long.”
Felix stared at her for a moment, mutely shaking his head. Then, he looked to the centurion.
“You gave an oath,” he said softly.
“On your life. I know, Felix, I know,” she murmured, eyes glossy-bright.
“Dash my life!” he exclaimed, backing slowly toward Myria. “Think of your word. Your honor. You’d stain yourself forever.”
“I’m stained already, Felix,” said Gloriana, quiet and level. “Beyond recovery. I’m sorry.”
She raised her hand. Arcana burned between her fingers like a silver sun. That was no trick light show, this time—Myria could feel the scorching power from across the room. Felix whipped around, and she drew a rapid breath.
“Felix Aurelias, I release you from the vow,” she burst out, then screwed her eyes closed, hanging every hope on what happened next . . .
Or what didn’t happen next. The silver light sank low, and something quick and cool dashed around her wrists. When she opened her eyes, Gloriana was smiling. Felix looked wildly between the two of them.
“Really, old girl, you’d think a confidence trickster would recognize a bluff,” Gloriana said. At a click of her fingers, the arcana hardened on Myria’s wrists. With that, the centurion strode to Felix’s side and set a hand on his shoulder.
“I don’t sacrifice my honor for rats like you,” she said, “and certainly not my best men. Now, I’ll be off to find your accomplices. My thanks, Miss Cadessa.”
She beckoned Myria closer, and the bonds tugged at her wrists, forcing her to obey. Gloriana smiled down at her like a fox who’d caught her fowl.
But Myria’s eyes weren’t on her smile. They were on the hand that lay on Felix’s shoulder, and the tremors twitching through it.
They were on the breath that came too fast and the pupils still dilated in fear.
Oh, she knew bluffs. She also knew the sight of a woman who’d been well and truly on the verge of murdering her loyal soldier.
She looked to Felix, then back to the centurion’s hand. The prefect’s head turned by a fraction, and she knew he saw the same as she did. The expression vanished from his face.
Got you, she thought at last. And there’s the plan.