The Night Everything Fell Apart (The Nephilim Book 1)(70)
Arthur didn’t want to find out—he couldn’t risk Dusek getting his hands on the staff. No telling what havoc he could wreak with it. Somehow, Arthur needed to get Cybele, the staff, and himself out of the cave alive. He had no idea how all that was to be done. He suspected, however, that his only hope was to grab Merlin’s staff and not let go.
He was acutely aware that, as a plan, it wasn’t much. What was he going to do with the staff once it was in his hands? Would his instinct and his chaotic magic take over? If it did, he could only hope that he and Cybele would survive whatever the hell happened next.
“Go on.” The Alchemist’s voice, low in Arthur’s ear, vibrated with anticipation. “Take it.”
Arthur moved closer. Magic emanated from wood and crystal. The staff was, Arthur realized, the source of the wailing. The sound brushed into his mind. His head lightened; his vision blurred. Something like a long, mournful bell rang in his ears.
He approached the staff. It generated heat as if on fire. Arthur’s fingers burned as he reached for it. Touching it, he knew, would be like plunging his hands into a living flame.
He welcomed the prospect. He sensed the fire could—would—purify him. Make him whole. Banish his uncertainty and cast light onto his Nephil ancestors’ forgotten memories.
The staff was his birthright. It was power and pain, and it would complete him. He reached for it. But just before his fingers grasped the prize, the ground heaved and the cave exploded in golden light.
“Stop.” A sonorous voice rang out. “In the name of Heaven, I adjure you!”
What the fuck? Arthur, blinded, grabbed at the place where he thought the staff should be.
His fingers closed on air.
SEVENTEEN
“Luc. Luc!”
The call, insistent and tinged with panic, penetrated the haze in Luc’s brain. He tried to ignore it and sink back into insensibility. Whatever was going on, he didn’t want to face it.
“Luc!”
Small hands gripped his shoulders and shook. Though a spray of bullets healed in seconds, magical wounds, left untended by magical remedies, festered. Luc’s wounds responded to the jarring movement. The stripes of Mab’s whip and the bites of her vipers burned like fire, sending streaking agony to every cell of his body. His spine arched. His breath hissed through his teeth.
“Oh.” His assailant jerked back. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
He thought about lifting his hand and waving whoever it was away, but the motion seemed like too much effort.
“Go...’way...” he whispered instead.
“No. I can’t. You gotta wake up!” The voice trembled. Its owner was on the verge of tears. How odd. Who cared enough to cry over him?
“Please, Luc. Please. Wake up. It took me forever to get in here, and I don’t know how much time we have. I’m so afraid...” A choking sob finally came. “I’m afraid Mab will kill you. She thinks you can lead her to Cybele...”
Cybele.
Beneath the pain and shame, a deep emotion stirred.
Cybele. His sister, his twin. Mab’s prize. No. He would not let Mab have Cybele. He would not see her enthralled to Rand. Not while he still drew breath.
He cracked open an eyelid. Even that small movement hurt. A pale face dotted with freckles hovered inches away.
“Zephyr?”
Her blue eyes went wide. “You’re awake!”
“Barely.”
He shoved into a sitting position, gritting his teeth against the raw, searing pain. It felt as though Mab’s lashes were striking all over again.
“I unlocked the manacles,” Zephyr said.
He flexed his shoulders, wincing at the pain. “How?”
Zephyr held up a key. “Can you walk, Luc?”
“I hope so.” He eyed the key. “But what about the magical protections?”
“Rand didn’t set any,” she said. “I guess he figured you weren’t strong enough to go anywhere.”
“No one’s even guarding the cellar door?”
She snorted. “Hunter, Evander, Rand, Starr, and Tempest are all up there. But they started a poker game, complete with snow and hooch. Hunter and Evander passed out.”
“Rand and the witches?”
“They went to bed.” She made a face. “All three of them together.”
“Mab?”
Zephyr shrugged. “She flew off right after Rand threw you down here.”
Luc considered the information. “How long ago?”
“About five hours. It’s almost midnight now.”
Gritting his teeth against the pain, he shoved his body upward. First to his knees, then to his feet. Everything spun. He closed his eyes and grabbed for the closest support, a square brick pier.
Zephyr hovered anxiously beside him. “Are you okay?”
He took a deep breath. “Yes.” He had to be, didn’t he? He couldn’t be here when Mab returned. She’d burn every bit of information about Cybele out of his head. And while he didn’t know where she was, he could guess enough about where his twin might have gone to put her in grave danger.
He let go of the brick pier and somehow remained standing. “Let’s go.”
Zephyr nodded and darted up the stairs. The barest line of light shone between the door and jamb. She peered through the crack, and then motioned for him to follow. “They’re still out like the dead.”