I lower to my knees, and the wetness of the grass seeps through the fabric of my pants. Priya said that listening to the last words of the dead was still possible, so I lean closer to her.
Pulling up the sleeves of my sweater, I reach in the water, the cold biting at my skin, until her bloated hand is in mine.
Time stops, and her eyes flip to cloudy white irises. I am prepared for the last piece of her story.The serpent betrayed the sister’s secret, leading her to her death.
I withdraw my hand, wiping it against my sweater. Now more than ever, I long for Olivia. She’d have solved this riddle within seconds. My eyes travel over the woman’s body, looking for any claw marks, but there are none. I lean in and notice a thin, clean-cut line across her neck, but no traces of blood.
“Viola! The overseers are on their way—they’re already aware of the body. I suppose Secondline didn’t section off the area,” Lorne exclaims from behind me, but my mind is busy patching together the riddle.
A serpent. A sister. A death. The answer hovers at the tip of my tongue, but still, I sift through a million excuses, because it cannot be true.
The dead don’t lie, my anchored ghost reminds me.
At the same time, footsteps hurry behind me. I rise to my feet and turn to see Rhodes, Overseer Delaney, and the overseer of House of Arcane emerge from the corridor. They don’t seem alarmed at all; in fact, they’re gesturing to the sun and the surroundings.
My anger coils at my fists. A young woman was killed, and they left her dead body to lie in the water for hours, for all I know. I hate this godforsaken place and the cruelty that lives within. Not far behind the overseers and Rhodes, Sylas walks besides Overseer Paltro, his eyes locked on to mine. Pressure builds in my chest until my heart begins to ache and my throat begins to close.
The serpent betrayed the sister’s secret, leading her to her death.
Beware the serpent with one green eye. My sister’s last words barrel into my head. She was telling me not to trust Sylas. And like a fool, I fell for his ruse.
Alyria Parrish, Gorhail’s Deathbringer, youngest Firstline chief in history, MISSING since early January. She was last seen patrolling Gorhail Woods. DOTS offers half a million gold coins upon her safe return.
THE DAILY MAGE, ISSUE 1917.34
twenty-eight | sylas
WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 24, 1939
Paltro leads me to the Penbryn Gardens behind the House of Arcane. Nel Penbryn, one of the four founders of the House of Arcane, designed these gardens as a sanctuary for the winged insects of Gorhail Woods. Six gazebos enclose a marble fountain in the center, and each gazebo acts as a trellis to multiple bright varieties of flowers. On the rare occasions when it doesn’t rain, colorful wildflies flap their thin wings, buzzing from flower to flower until they stop at one of the brass bird feeders. But today, the wildflies fly in circles far above the fountain.
“This is your first assignment on Firstline,” Paltro commands as we approach Rhodes, the overseers of the Houses of Arcane and Death, Lorne… and Viola.
What is she doing here, and why is she looking at me with murder in her eyes? I don’t have time to mull over the answer because everyone steps aside the moment we reach the fountain.
My knuckle flies between my teeth at the sight in front of me.
Fable Rowan’s body floats in a pond of rust-brown water, her once yellow hair splayed around her head like a peacock’s tail. Her razor-sharpeyes stare vacantly at the clouds above. It’s a sorry sight. I don’tlikethat she’s dead, but I also don’t care for Fable.
“Must we stay longer?” Lorne stifles a gag. He looks like he’s about to spill the contents of his stomach on the ground. In his defense, it reeks of stale blood and the sourness of death.
Around Fable’s neck is a clean cut across the throat. Nothing like—my eyes lower to her breastbone, where her Arkani dustmaker relic, an ornate silver pen, used to sit.
Now it’s gone.
This is the third heirloom relic taken—fourth, if we count Olivia’s fake one, the killer’s only mistake. I remember Mara’s comment at Dearly Departed, about how they were looking for more relics. How many more?
Different rituals have different requirements. And so far, they have one Aspieri relic, two Arkani relics, and we know they need Viola’s Mortemagi relic. We needThe Founder’s Book of Relicsnow more than ever. I turn to Paltro to discuss my theory, but the slight flare of his eyes shuts my mouth.
“Why the hurry now, Magister Lawton?” Delaney asks. “Instead of running to us, you should have seen to it that this area was blocked off.”
“Of course, Overseer.” Lorne lowers his head. “But I was in the middle of a lesson with Magus Corvi when we happened upon the scene.”
Lorne is teaching her? My left shoe would do a better job at teaching her death magic. Lorne knows nothing but a few party tricks. The only reason he’s even a Magister is because he follows Delaney around like a wandering ghost. He is diligent, I’ll give him that, but he folds so quickly in the face of any danger.
As I watch him step closer to Viola, my fists clench. Suspicious or not, I don’twanthim around my bonded mage, and Haal, she’s been avoiding my gaze since I arrived.
“Overseer Paltro—” Delaney adjusts her glasses.