Chapter 19 #3
A tall figure emerges, the shock of white-blonde hair familiar now. It’s messier than our previous encounters – thanks to Eira’s groping hands, no doubt. He stops short when he catches sight of me, surprise tinged with anger raging in his eyes.
‘Damian,’ I say. ‘Where’s Eira?’
‘Upstairs.’ He crosses the space between us in three strides. ‘You shouldn’t be in here.’
‘You’re here.’ I’m unable to hide the note of accusation in my voice. ‘Did you know about this? Why is she keeping these people here?’
As if I couldn’t guess. They must be the special sources of magic she mentioned yesterday. Rather than hunting in the city, she keeps her victims down here for magic-on-tap. No wonder she was able to create so many wraiths last night.
It’s barbaric.
‘They’ve not told you?’ He toys with the end of his gloves. The girl eyes them nervously, as though she knows exactly what hex lies beneath, and shakes her head. Behind her, the other captives huddle closer.
‘She didn’t get a chance,’ I say. ‘This is . . . They have so many hexmarks.’ My voice trembles.
Living with one is bad enough. I can’t imagine what it must be like for them.
Maybe that’s why they’re making no attempt to plead for help, or to fight back, to find a way out from the cage.
Their hexes will keep them imprisoned for life regardless.
Damian sighs. ‘This is why I didn’t tell you. I knew you’d be upset.’
‘Upset? I’m way past upset. How can you stand by and let this happen?’
He cocks his head, eyes scanning my face. ‘Did you get the locket?’
‘I might have done.’ I tilt my chin in the air. ‘But I won’t be going to that temple until you answer my question.’
‘I’ll take that as a yes.’ A small smile plays on one side of his mouth, before he turns away from me, resting his forehead against the bars of the cage. The captives take one another’s hands, terrified stares flicking between me and Damian.
‘Eira is . . . experimenting. Souleaters are the only known creatures who can channel magic, and yet, they’re restricted by the very nature of their power.
But what if they weren’t? What if she could access her victims from any place, at any time, without touching them?
Her magic would never run out. She would be unstoppable. ’
‘That’s not possible,’ I say. ‘She must know that’s not possible. How long has this been going on?’
‘Too long.’ His voice is quiet now. ‘The attack on your festival in Shiverholde wasn’t out of a fit of rage.
She wanted to learn what would happen if she accessed a large supply of magic at once.
It kept her sustained for several months, but the magic ran out eventually.
So now we have this thesis. The same victims, over and over, to see if a link can be made.
And she can sense them, you know. There is a connection between a Souleater and the magic they leave behind in the hexmark.
She needs to find a way to use that connection –’
‘It doesn’t work that way though,’ I sputter. ‘I mean . . . from everything I know about them, it can’t work that way. Why are you letting this happen?’
‘What would you have me do? I may not be behind bars, but I am just as trapped by my own limitations. If I helped them, she’d know it was me.
I’d be dead before I could kill her, and she’d replenish this cell within a matter of days.
This is why she has to die, don’t you see?
Not because of what she did to you and me, but what she’s done to all of them. ’
I tremble. If nobody succeeds in retrieving the cure, they’ll be trapped here forever.
Damian closes the gap between us, and it’s like being plunged into an icy lake, the scent of cold and frost enough to make me shiver.
It’s funny how when Astin talks of revenge he’s all hot temper and heat, but Damian is detached from his rage, like the only way for him to survive is to place a barricade made of the coldest metal in between what he wants and the way he feels.
‘I’ll help them once she’s gone. I promise.’ He dips his head, and if he realises how dangerously close he is to my cursed lips, he either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care, because he leans closer. ‘I’ll give them all the emeralds they need for a fresh start. You just have to get me that potion.’
I nod, still shaking, hating the idea I have to wait at all, that in order to help them I have to leave them. How many more hexes will they suffer while I’m gone?
My gaze slides to Yvette. Emeralds won’t save her any more than they’ve saved Damian. No matter how much favour he buys, people can’t look past his gloves, or the history of his family. They won’t look past her hex or burning touch either.
As if sensing where my thoughts have gone, Damian lightly touches my arm. ‘We’re in this together now. If you have both items . . . you need to go. Take the stairs behind me, then turn left. It’ll lead you into the garden.’
‘Okay.’ I face Yvette one more time. ‘I won’t let you down. I’ll make it right.’ I place a hand on Damian’s arm. ‘For all of us.’
He smiles, and for once it looks wholly genuine. ‘Let’s hope you succeed.’