25. Leah #2
“I thought the whole point of breaking the bond was so you stop irritating me?” I reply, because it’s right there, and because reaching for a joke feels like yanking on the reins of a runaway horse—stopping dangerous emotions galloping out of control.
Syrus huffs out some laughter, and Viz looks between us. “That’s the last rune,” he says.
I look down at my arms. “You don’t have to paint them on all of me?” I ask.
“No, the sorcerers were overzealous,” Viz says, like he’s disapproving of poor craftmanship.
“So what’s left for us to do?” I ask.
“You’ll hold Syrus’s hand—your physical forms need to be connected—and then he’ll withdraw from your mind at the same time as you push him out.”
I blink. “That’s it?”
Viz nods. “The runes and blood do most of the work, then it’s a reversal of the ceremony. Your bodies are touching rather than separated, Syrus is inside your mind not outside of it, and he withdraws rather than enters as you revoke your permission.”
Syrus shifts his chair around so that the table’s no longer between us.
“Okay,” I say, trying to ground myself by staring at my feet and swallowing. My throat feels scratchy, and when I look up, Syrus is already proffering his hand.
I take it, letting my fingers curl around his.
“On the count of three,” Syrus says, holding my gaze, and I’m suddenly reminded of the day he saved me from Kaliban. He tried to count to three then, and I didn’t wait for him before I unleashed the ephilium magic that kicked off this whole mess.
“One…” Syrus murmurs into my head.
I’ll miss you, I think to myself, keeping the words locked away where he can’t hear them.
“Two…”
I think I love you…The realization hits me hard. I’d not thought the words so clearly before, had refused to recognize them even as they lurked in the back of my mind. But still—
“Three.”
I shove Syrus’s presence hard, throwing him out of my head as he hurtles out of me like a stone from a slingshot.
The runes feel like they’re moving on my skin, prickling and shifting like crawling across my flesh.
At the same time, something crumbles in my mind, a structure I didn’t know was there collapsing away, leaving a gaping abyss.
I gasp, folding forward as I’m struck by the force of it.
So much emptiness, so much lost. I don’t think I can bear it.
Tears spring to my eyes, spilling over as an involuntary sob rolls through me.
The absence is like a weight on my chest, a darkness rising up around me.
My vision blurs, and then the blackness envelops me.
I wake with soft hands on my face, a thumb running across my cheek.
“Leah,” Syrus murmurs as my eyelids flicker open. I’m lying on one of the couches as he bends over me. He looks wrecked—face drawn and gray, as if he has the mother of all hangovers. I wonder if I look as bad as he does. “Are you okay?”
I nod hesitantly, easing myself up onto my elbows. The movement makes Syrus pull his hands back quickly, as if he’d only just realized he’d been touching me.
“You fainted,” Viz says from over Syrus’s shoulder. “Not surprising, really. The possession link was strong, so breaking it was bound to put some strain on you. How do you feel now?”
Flat. Deflated. Wrong.
But ultimately fine, I think, wearily. I check my face, finding it still a little damp from the tears, and hastily wipe them away as I sit up.
“I’m okay,” I say, even if there’s an awful hollowed-out feeling where the bond used to be. I’m sure that will fade with time, when I remember what it’s like to exist alone in my own head again.
“Now we just have to test whether it worked.” Viz says, looking toward Syrus.
Syrus’s expression is hard to read. A mask of calm control has settled over his face, and I can’t see beyond it. He focuses his eyes on mine until a little line appears between his brows.
I feel…nothing.
“Are you trying right now?” I ask.
“Yes.” His voice is tight. “It’s not even like there are any walls between us, there’s just…”
“Nothing there?” I suggest. “Like there’s an abyss where the bond was?”
He nods, eyes dropping away from my face to look at Viz.
“That’s good,” Viz says, making a note. “That means he can’t possess you anymore.”
His words intensify the hollowed-out feeling, like wind whistling through a cave.
I glance down at my arms. The runes are still clear and readable against my pale flesh. There’s no rash to be seen.
I squint, wondering about still being able to read the Cyrax. Sure, probably by now I’ve memorized the meanings of these particular runes, but…I glance over my shoulders at my wings. Still black. Still “demon touched.”
With a twisting nausea, I hold out my palm.
A prickle of magic rises to the surface, and with it a plume of black shadow.
Shit. I think the word at the same time as Syrus curses in Cyrax—a curse I can understand.
“I thought the spell was supposed to make all the demonic stuff go away?” I hiss.
Viz’s eyes are wide and panicked. He crosses quickly over to the table, flicking through some of his books. “Well…we never knew for certain whether or not those changes were permanent. They’re unprecedented.”
“Vizmodeus,” Syrus says, crossing to loom over him. “If she’s kept the demon traits the possession gave her, then she’s doomed as soon as she faces the oracle.” His voice is stern, but it’s only to hide his fear, I think.
My own panic bubbles up in me. He’s right. Bond or no bond, the oracle’s going to take one look inside me and smell Infernum on my soul. And then I’m toast. So facing the oracle isn’t an option, which means I won’t be able to take the third trial.
And if I can’t take the third trial…what does that mean for staying in Aradis? Will the seraphim still try to lock me up? Kick me out of Aradis? Could I maybe find a way to avoid the third trial without raising everyone’s suspicions?
“There must be something else we can do,” Viz echoes my thoughts, running a hand through his wild, silver hair.
Syrus’s head snaps up, eyes unfocused as if he’s listening. “Something’s happening.”
I hear it a moment later: bangs, joined by shouts, coming from somewhere else in the building.
A piercing scream rings through the corridors of the Seraph Seat.