Broken Veil (Harbinger #5)(77)

A gasp of pain. Cettie was leaning forward now, her arm twisted behind her back. But she jumped forward into a roll, unwinding the hold, and swept her leg back to knock Christina off her feet. Her advantage gave her a moment to lunge toward the Tay al-Ard, but she was stopped short by the other woman, who’d already regained her feet.

Sera heard footsteps coming down the tunnel leading back to the Aldermaston’s rooms. Help or additional foes? She would rather not be there to find out. Grunting herself, she moved closer, until her head bumped against the device. It rocked a little and then held still.

Cettie flung Christina off and reached out for the device. Her fingers almost brushed Sera’s head, but Sera was still invisible. She couldn’t see her own body.

And then Cettie’s face contorted in pain. She’d been stabbed or injured in some way, though Sera hadn’t seen how. She slumped onto the stone ground, her arm still extended, her fingers listless. Her eyelids quivered and then closed.

Was she dead?

Burning anger filled Sera’s heart. More desperate than ever to stop Christina, to bring soldiers to this place, she inched a little closer to the Tay al-Ard. A shadow appeared on the floor, approaching her. She blinked in recognition. It was the Aldermaston of Cruix!

“You didn’t kill her, did you?” said the Aldermaston in a stranger’s voice. The Aldermaston she’d met didn’t speak her language—this one didn’t even have an accent.

“No,” Christina panted, rising to her knees. “She almost reached the Tay al-Ard.”

“Where’s the empress?” the man asked, his voice angry.

“Somewhere . . . on the floor. Nearby,” Christina said, gasping.

“Apokaluptis,” the stranger said, and Sera felt a breeze brush across her. She was visible again, the magic tamed.

The disguised Aldermaston chuckled and knelt, quickly picking up the Tay al-Ard himself. She’d been so close . . .

Then his disguise melted away also, revealing a man with a short beard and cunning eyes. He wore a black cassock and had a musical instrument strapped around his shoulders.

“You did well,” he said, looking at Christina and giving a small nod. “We almost lost her.”

Christina nodded in return and stood.

“Hello, Your Highness,” the man said, still squatting near her. “My name is Jevin Toussan. I’m pleased to meet you at long last.”

“I can’t say I return the sentiment,” Sera whispered back.

Jevin smiled at the insult. He looked to be in his midthirties perhaps. Maybe forty at the most. “I imagine not,” he said. “But that’s no matter. You are here at last. That’s what is truly important.”

Christina rose, rubbing her wrist as if it pained her. Cettie was still immobile on the floor.

The bearded man met Christina’s gaze. “The kishion are coming. It’s time.”

“How are they coming so quickly?” Christina asked, her brow wrinkling.

“The ley lines,” Jevin said, but the word was incomprehensible to Sera. He tucked the Tay al-Ard into his pocket and then helped lift her into a sitting position since she could not use her arms. Part of Sera’s dark hair fell across her face. She stared up at the man.

“I won’t release her,” Sera said forcefully, feeling the dark menace of the Prison Leering brush against her thoughts. There was a yearning there, a yearning to be free, to end the entrapment.

Jevin eyed her keenly. “I think you will.” Then he rose and turned back to the entrance.

Sera, sitting upright, gazed around the entombed space. The walls were part of a natural cave that existed within the mountains of Cruix Abbey. The ceiling was vaulted, not because it had been built that way, but because nature had created it so. A crack ran along the apex where the slanted rocks joined together. Hollows had been carved into the rocks, forming benches where ossuaries had been made to store the remains of the dead. The space was neither cramped nor large. It was a cave within a cave, deep within the mountain itself, where no light could reach them. If not for the sputtering torches, all would be pitch black. The Leerings carved into the walls had been disfigured, the faces smashed by chisel and hammer.

That was different. That was new. It meant she couldn’t use them to summon help.

Sera swallowed. Cettie lay nearby, her arm still outstretched. Cettie, who had been missing for over a year. Who had been abducted and concealed. She still looked like her friend, but the fight might have been staged for her benefit. Sera didn’t know what to believe. The webs of deceit were too thick.

The kishion came noiselessly. Sera felt them before she saw them, and her blood ran cold as they arrived from the corridor. Five . . . eight . . . ten. Then more. They walked into the room, coming around in a circle, and then stood near the shadowed alcoves of the ossuaries. All in all, there were twelve of them. Jevin made thirteen. One of them caught her eye deliberately. He had awful scars on his face, but they didn’t conceal his true identity.

Will Russell.

A little smirk twitched on his face. He knew she recognized him, and it amused him. Then he looked at Cettie, and his eyes narrowed with anger.

What do I do now? she wondered in the darkness. She gazed at the others, trying to see if she recognized any of them. But she did not. Then their eyes all began to glow silver as their kystrels burned to life. Darkness began to dim the torchlight. They were using their dark power to invoke the Myriad Ones. How were they getting past the barriers of the abbey above?