Thisis why everything felt so easy. They planned this. They could have killed Viola at any point. That she is still alive means that Grimm is playing a different game.
Behind you.
I duck and roll away, in time to avoid an undead’s claws from impaling my chest, and land in the dirt. Behind the skeleton, Grimm summons two more, and they crawl toward me, quicker than bones have any right to be.
“You remind me of your ancestor. Smug and stupid.”
I ignore him, spinning my dagger, ready to tear into the skeletons, but these undead don’t attack. I try to kick them away, but they are too fast: they grab my arms and hold them down, pinning me to the ground. I struggle against their grip, but it’s like pushing against a rock.
Grimm steps over me, sharpening a golden blade against his cuff— Faro’s Cuff. “Do you want to know how he died, Sylas? Your ancestor?”
I jerk my head away, try to pull myself up, but his minions of death are too strong. To my side, Raiku and Scar fight an incessant stream ofundead that Grimm summoned; for every few they turn to dust, more keep emerging from the soil.
“Let me kill her.” Delaney throws Viola to the ground, and I lurch forward suddenly, breaking free from the undeads’ hold for a moment, only to be slapped back down by Grimm. “Her cuff is all we need.” Delaney clutches a pack of relics to her chest.
“Do not touch her,” Grimm snaps. “Not yet. I want Viola to watch.” Grimm smiles as he brings the knife close to my neck. The cold of the blade brushes against my skin; I don’t move. He lowers his head to my ear. “I will tell you how he died, Sylas. He was beheaded while his children watched, but Gorhail never taught you this, did they? He tried to drive Mortemagi to extinction, and he paid the price.”
“That’s not—” I stop.
Every mage knows the story, but I know it best because it’s the story of my ancestor, Fia Ronin.
Poachers beheaded Sileas Ronin in his own home in front of his wife and children. They stabbed his oldest daughter, Fia, only seven at the time, and he passed the Imortalis to her to save her life, placing himself at the mercy of the poacher’s blade. And when Raiek went to the girl, her mother threw herself onto the poachers to give her children enough time to run. But her younger brothers were too slow; they didn’t even make it across the threshold of their house before Mortemagi poachers dismembered them. All in the name of Grimm.
He pulls away from my face, one hand gripping my collar and the other holding his golden dagger to my throat. “Hating us is in your blood. You can lie to yourself, Sylas, but she will always be a Mortemagi. Her veins will always pulse with her line’s bloodshed.”
My gaze trails to Viola, who fights against one of Grimm’s undead. Grimm could kill me right now, and I would claw my way out of the Underworld for her. I would defy every one of the six Gods for her.
Our eyes meet, and I understand why our bonds are sacred. It’s not even about love; it’s about surrender.
I let out a dry laugh. “She’smyMortemagi, that’s the diff—”
Ifeelthe first slice of the blade.
“Stop,” Viola screams, reaching for her cuff. “I’ll give you the cuff. Just stop.”
“Don’t.” I choke up, and Grimm’s dagger halts, my warm blood clashing with the cold metal. If she gives them the cuff, they’ll kill her. “Oliviadied to protect you, and Lyria lost her mind trying to save you. I am immortal, Vi. Don’t do this.”
She reconsiders at my words. Tears stream down her cheeks, and she turns to Delaney again. “If Grimm cared about resurrecting Willow, why hasn’t he killed me and taken the cuff? He’s playing a game, Overseer, and you’re just a pawn.”
Viola is right. It’s all been too easy, too convenient. He is playing a game, and he wants something more than Viola’s cuff. Perhaps more than his own resurrection.
Delaney’s eyes narrow at Grimm in suspicion, and she clutches the pack of relics even tighter.
“I have been nothing but loyal and true these last two years, Aurelia. I brought you the book, the only one in existence.” His tone mellows, but his hold on me doesn’t. “You know me, Aurelia. Everything I do is to protect our right to magic.”
“Three pages are missing, Overseer.” Viola scrambles backward, her head tilted at Delaney. “He’s lying to you. The puppet he sent after Lyria… her last words were—”
Grimm drives his dagger straight through my heart. A flash of agony sears through my chest, into my very bones.
Viola shrieks.
“He won’t die, darling, but I promise he willfeeleverything.” He draws the blade out, and stabs again, and I wail as the metal twists into my flesh. It’s torture. My breaths are shaky, and I try to steady them. Haal, I can survive this. My ancestor suffered a worse fate.
“What do you see in him?” Another stab, but this time the pain numbs itself.
Viola catches my gaze, and her eyes flick to the side. A flash of green slithers past me, then up my leg.
“He abandoned you,” Grimm tries again. “He loathes our magic. He will never love you.” He forces the words through gritted teeth, equal parts despair and frustration, like an unrequited lover begging for scraps.