Railesza lifts her head toward Raiek, but of course he doesn’t budge. He’s not moved since Dad’s death.
Haal. Panic ripples through my limbs, but I push against it. I race back up the stairs until I’m in front of her, lacing my hands around her cheeks. Her skin is so, so cold. I slide my hand down her neck, my fingers feeling for a pulse. She has one, thank Haal.
Anchor. “Viola, listen to my voice.” It cracks.
Her eyes well with tears, but she doesn’t move. She’s in there, somewhere. I curse myself for not paying attention in classes about death magic, curse myself for not taking an interest in Lyria’s research.
“Sy, what—” Lyria rushes to us.
“Ghost paralysis,” I utter. “We’re not in the catacombs yet; she won’t be able to use its river of magic.”
“I’m an idiot,” Lyria mutters. “Her cuff… remove her cuff.”
“I can’t,” I reply. “She didn’t bond with me; her relic won’t respond.” Unless she’s dead or double bonded with someone, no one but she can take off her relic.
“Can you pick her up?” Lyria asks. “Hurry.”
I loop my hands around Viola and lift her into my arms. She sags against my chest. “I have you,” I murmur, pressing my lips to her hair.
Lyria runs a hand over mine and holds it there for a moment. “Trust me,” she says as Nyx slithers from her hand to Viola’s arm. Her aspier hisses at Railesza, who in turn glares at her. It’s too late when I realize what my sister is doing.
“Be gentle, Nyx,” she orders, and Nyx bites Viola’s wrist.
Railesza hisses, but she lets Nyx continue until color drains from Viola’s face and her lips tinge with the faintest shade of blue.
“She’s dead,” Lyria whispers. In less than two seconds, she slides her hands underneath Viola’s sweater and unclips her cuff. “Now,” Lyria screams, and Railesza’s fangs sink in the same spot Nyx’s were.
Lyria maneuvers Viola’s open cuff out of her shirt and cups it withboth hands, as if it were a most precious jewel. To me, this cursed relic almost killed Viola.
The seconds it takes Railesza to heal Viola freeze my lungs. What if she doesn’t wake up at all? My thoughts are cut short because soon after, Viola gasps for air, and I feel my own heart come alive. She coughs in between breaths, wheezing, as if she’s learning how to breathe all over again. After a moment, I set her down on the floor and step away as Lyria kneels next to her. Because I don’t trust my traitor hands nor my traitor heart.
Viola reaches for her arm, frowning. “How did my cuff come off?”
“I unclasped it.” Lyria grimaces and changes the subject. “What happened?”
Viola goes silent for a moment, her hand rubbing her barren arm. She takes in the emptiness around us, then shakes her head. “So many voices, so much pain, so much anger. I was drowning in all of it.” She holds her hand out, and my sister gingerly hands her back the Corvi cuff. “How did you take it off?”
“Oh.” Lyria gives her an awkward laugh, glancing up at me. I raise my palms, and her eyes widen in betrayal. She turns to Viola with a nervous smile. “I killed you. Revived you immediately. Is it really killing if you’re not dead?”
Viola’s jaw drops open.
My sister continues her justification. “I have extensive practice.”
“With?” Viola asks.
Lyria murmurs, “Flowers and two mice.”
Flowers and two mice? Lyria, for the love of Haal. She could have really killed Viola.
“You’ve never practiced on a person before?” Viola asks with an eerie calm.
“Now I have…” Lyria winces. My sister has lost her mind.
Viola shrieks, “I could have died.”
“Well,” Lyria drawls. “Technically, you did. You had to, or else I wouldn’t have been able to take off your cuff and release you from ghost paralysis.”
“Ghost paralysis…?” Viola trails.