Zoltan raised his scythe and chanted a spell—a death spell, I realized, now making the connection to the familiar words and runes. But Kalon sneered and basically flashed across the room. Zoltan vanished, and Kalon crashed into the wall. Parts of it crumbled, rubble falling onto the floor.
Trev got up, injured but still able to stand, holding his shoulder.
I slid down the wall, my knees giving out. I couldn’t even feel my leg anymore. Whatever that scythe had done, it was serious. “Telluris…” My tongue got tangled, and I could no longer speak. Fear crippled me, heat seeping through my muscles and expanding into my throat. I looked up at Kalon.
He breathed heavily, his chest rising with every intake of air, as he looked down at me. Trev leaned against the stone table, blood dripping from his shoulder wound and down his arm. “Kalon… Come back to us… Come on!” he encouraged him. “Control yourself. Deep breaths. You taught me that. Deep breaths… Esme needs you.”
My gaze was getting blurry, but I could still see Kalon as he regained his composure.
“How… How did you get here?” I asked, my voice barely audible, my head resting on the cold wall. I welcomed the chilling sensation, while the rest of me burned.
“Did you really think I didn’t figure out your little invisibility trick?” Kalon replied, kneeling before me. “Esme, I caught your scent in the throne room the night of the attack on Valaine. It didn’t take long for me to figure out you had magic handy. I could recognize your scent and your heartbeat anywhere.”
“Kalon,” Trev said. “Did you see that weapon on Zoltan? He hurt her with it. What the hell was that?”
My mind was getting hazy, the shapes losing themselves, the colors blending into a dull gray before my very eyes. Was I really hearing this, or was my mind unraveling and scattering into tiny little bits and pieces?
“You don’t want to know, trust me,” I thought I heard Kalon mutter.
“They knew about me, too!” Trev replied.
“I figured as much when I heard the ruckus in here. It took me a while to sneak past the guards after I saw you coming down here and knowing that Esme was following you. Dammit, she’s losing consciousness!”
“What do we do?!” Trev asked.
My eyes rolled back, my whole being weak and mushy. I welcomed the darkness, though the sounds lingered for a few more seconds.
“You need to go into hiding. The Darklings are on to you,” he said to Trev. “And I need to take her to Amal and Amane. They might know how to save her. That scythe is one deadly toothpick, even for vampires and Aeternae.”
“I’ll be in touch,” Trev replied. Silence again. He must’ve left.
I couldn’t believe it. He knew? Was I imagining all this?
Had Zoltan’s Reaper scythe caused me to hallucinate, perhaps? Nothing made sense anymore, and I was so tired. So, so tired. I wanted to sleep.
“Have mercy,” a female voice croaked through my darkness. She sounded close. Was that the ginger Darkling?
The zing of a blade sang through the air. The squishing sound of flesh and blood disturbed by steel. The silence of death. I felt a pair of strong arms scooping me off the damp floor.
Sleep finally found me, my thoughts and memories jumbling into an unrecognizable mass, my mind exhausted and my body feeling like it was beyond repair. I surrendered to it. It was my time to rest…
Tristan
“We’re close to finding the protein,” Amane said, beaming with enthusiasm. “We’ve identified five proteins that are similar to what’s in Derek’s bloodstream.”
“With the two of us on both microscopes, it’s been much easier,” Amal added. “We were able to compare notes and eliminate the unlikely elements.”
Valaine had joined me in the study room to check up on the Faulty twins’ progress. Nethissis’s body had been moved next door, preserved with magic and encased in a crystal coffin, courtesy of the Lord and Lady Supreme, who’d had the empire’s foremost artisans to design and sculpt the piece. It was the least they could do, Danika and Acheron had said. I was inclined to disagree, but I was waiting for Esme to give me a sign before I could voice that thought.
I hadn’t heard from her since she’d left, and that worried me. It was exactly like her to do this, especially on covert missions, but I could never get used to it. I’d never had my sister’s patience.
Derek and Sofia were both excited, but tired. They hadn’t slept much over the past couple of days—the protein search, the Black Fever, the Darklings, and Nethissis’s death had all taken a toll, and it was beginning to show. Our leaders were worn out but had no intention of backing down. We’d come this far, after all.
“I’m glad to hear that,” Valaine said. “What about the Black Fever? I don’t mean to add any pressure, but I know Petra and my father will ask tomorrow.”
Amane sighed. Amal didn’t look too happy, either. Derek took the lead on this one, already knowing what they were going to say. “Progress is slow, I’m afraid. It’s a very complicated virus, from what I understand. It multiplies quickly in pretty much any conditions, so the first step is to figure out what environment isn’t favorable for its development.”
“We’re running different tests,” Amal said, pointing at several white boxes. Inside, she’d placed glass dishes with virus strains, using magic to replicate various temperatures and physical conditions—hot and dry, hot and humid, cold and dry, extremely damp, freezing cold, and so on. “As soon as we figure out which of these boxes show the slowest evolution, we’ll work from there. Our primary objective is to slow the current outbreak down and to isolate emerging carriers.”
“So far, we’ve identified one, thanks to my sister,” Amane continued. “We have yet to hear from Petra regarding the girl’s condition. We were promised she’d be safe but quarantined.”
“Petra is a woman of her word,” Valaine replied. “She might seem cold and odd to most, but I assure you she has the best interest of the empire in mind. That includes the Rimians and the Naloreans, as well.”
“I would like to see the girl tomorrow morning, if possible,” Amal murmured.
“Oh, I’m sure we can arrange something—” Valaine froze when the study room door burst open, and Kalon stormed in, holding Esme in his arms.
My heart stopped when I noticed the blood trickling from her wounded thigh, from her shoulder and side. She was unconscious and pale, and the frenzy threatened to crush my judgment altogether.
“I need help!” Kalon gasped.
Within seconds, my sister was laid on one of the tables, with Amal and Amane both at her side, checking her vitals and her wounds. Kalon was shaking, coated in a layer of sweat and anger.
“What the hell happened?!” I snarled. Resting a hand on Esme’s forehead, I could feel her temperature. It was abnormally high. “She’s burning up. What happened to her, Kalon?!”
“Our mission with Trev. It went sideways. The Darklings knew about his allegiance. They knew he’d met with us. They knew everything,” Kalon managed, unable to take his eyes off Esme. Amal and Amane proceeded to cut pieces of her combat suit in order to access the wounds.
A big black gash crossed her thigh, and the sight of it made my stomach churn. It didn’t look natural, and both Faulty sisters were baffled and confused.
