“Viola.” Lyria’s voice is soft in contrast to her brother’s hostile tone. “Maybe you’ve heard him and haven’t quite realized it was the voice of a ghost…”
Ihaveheard him, but I’m not telling them that yet. Firstly, I could use this in exchange for more information about Olivia, and secondly, I don’t want them to draw the same morbid conclusion as I did. Maybe Lyria is right, and I haven’t heard Beau again because he’s avoiding Gorhail. For her sake, I hope that’s true.
“Fine. Even if you can’t speak to him, where’s his body?” Archyr interrupts her. “Because you claimed to know where he was.”
I don’t say a word, refusing to waste my leverage. Weshouldbe working together to find our siblings’ killer, but there he stands, making demands. This only confirms that Archyr never had any intention of helping me. He only wanted information before kicking me aside.
“Or maybe… you don’t know, and you’re a fraud, like your sister,” he taunts, taking a step forward. Like a fool, I take the bait.
“I’m not lying,” I spit out. “Your brother has a broken-heart-shaped birthmark behind his left ear.” I give him the single detail I couldn’t possibly have picked up from the newspaper.
Archyr’s eyes darken, and his nostrils flare. “You can tell us where he is right now, or I’ll have a reader get it out of you.” He steps so close to me, his lips flattening into a sneer. “Your choice, Corvi.”
His threat ignites something within me. My skin feels warm, my cheeks burn, and my eyes sting. I square my shoulders and plant my feet on the ground. Somewhere between his false acts of compassion and now, I forgot that I am only a tool to the people of this world. Parrish needs me because of the relic; Delaney needs me because of my magic; and Archyr now needs me to find his brother’s bodyandhis ghost. Sooner or later, I’ll find other people to give me more information about Olivia. So right now, Archyr needs me more than I need him.
“Is that a threat, Archyr?” I hold my head high, tangling myself into his dangerous game. If this is how he wants to play, I have nothing to lose.
“I don’t make threats, Corvi.” Sylas’s every word punctuates my heartbeat. “I am merely giving you options.” His black aspier unravels as he moves his hand inches away from my face. The aspier cocks his head, black eyes locking on me, and the fear that had previously left creeps up my spine and crawls down my arms.
My tongue is slow to catch up. “Why the aspier, Archyr? Is your desire to kill me stronger than your desire to find your brother?”
“Do youwantme to kill you?” His head tilts toward me, and poison drips from his words. They don’t sound like threats; they sound like a possibility. My mouth goes dry, and my breathing quickens. I willingly stepped into unknown waters, and now I am drowning.
“You’ve been wondering whether I’m going to kill you since we met.” A smirk grazes his lips, the aspier slithering between his knuckles. The backs of his fingers skims along my cheek, and he drags them up, brushing my hair behind my ear, and I let him. His aspier is so close to my neck it takes everything in me not to look away from his eyes. My limbs tense, my skingrows cold, and I don’t breathe. “Should I end the suspense?” he asks so softly, his fingers flexing against my head.
A resounding slap breaks me from his spell. He flinches, blinking several times to make sense of what happened. At his side, Lyria wears a scowl, her hand still hovering next to his reddening arm. “Why—” His attention turns to her, and now is my chance. I slip out of the secret door.
Lorne and Delaney are right about one thing: I need to stay away from this wicked, murderous Aspieri.
The moment I step into the darkness, my senses fail me. The hallways all look the same, and the stairs are treacherous. I don’t relent, crossing through more hallways than I did when Archyr was with me—if I continue walking, I will eventually stumble upon an exit. My only solace is the deafening silence. No one seems to be here.
That’s when I hear the voice, clear as day, right beside me.He whom you seek lies in the catacombs.
Fueled by the magic of the catacombs, the Poisoned Stairwell has a mind of its own. Wandering the passageway without an aspier is strongly discouraged. Aspiers keep ghosts at bay.
Note:Whisperers should avoid the Poisoned Stairwell. Ghost paralysis is the leading cause of death of whisperers at Gorhail.
ROME RONIN,A BRIEF HISTORY OF THE HOUSE OF POISON, PAGE 56
fourteen | sylas
SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 21, 1939
Sylas!” Lyria exclaims as the door closes behind the Mortemagi. “A whisperer cannot navigate the Poisoned Stairwell alone.”
“She’ll learn.” I shrug.
What Viola Corvi does or doesn’t do no longer concerns me. I tried to be nice. If she upheld her end of the bargain, I was prepared to help her find her sister’s killer. More because of my promise to Sierra than to her and my own interest in avenging Beau’s death, but the sentiment is somewhere in there. Instead of exuding gratitude, she had to give me lip. I tried to forgive her incompetence, but she kept dangling the location of Beau’s body over my head, with no intention of helping. I don’t know why I expected any different from a Mortemagi; they’re all self-serving.
“She doesn’t have an aspier to guide her and ward her from the ghosts.” Lyria throws her hands in the air. “She’ll be dead within the hour. Youknowhow dangerous these passages are for whisperers, let alone an untrained one.”
I’m not the one who told her to skip mage school for twelve years. “Excellent.” I clasp my fingers together. “She’ll be dead in time for her sister’sfuneral tomorrow. Perhaps they’ll consider burying a mage in the nonmagi cemetery.”
If she dies, the bond will break, and I will be free of this gnawing need to protect her. Paltro never mentioned any of this before strong-arming me into bonding with her.
Lyria curses at me as she stalks to the black door. Her bleeding heart will be her downfall. Corvi is a Mortemagi. All of them are the same. Children of Grimm. Murderers.
Forget Mom, Lyria acts as if Mortemagi don’t have the highest number of rogue mages becoming poachers. The same poachers Gryff risks his life fighting every day. The same poachers that killed our father and probably our brother, too.