Page 45 of Dead Wrong

“We’re nearly there,” Cirian said after a moment.

“Where exactly is ‘there?’”

“I told you. A sanctuary. A safe place where we can rest and make arrangements.” He turned to me, his dark eyes soaking in the eerie glow of the orb in his hand. “I’ll keep you safe, Toto. I swear it.”

And in that moment, under his gaze, I fully believed him.

* * *

The sanctuary was off a dirt road, not far from the edge of the woods. The sounds of night returned as we stepped out from the cover of the dense foliage, starlight washing us in a pale glow as we made our way to the derelict A-frame building. Faded and dirty stained glass hung above the entrance, splintered in multiple places with spiderweb-like cracks that only added to their intricate designs. Two heavy, wooden doors adorned the front of the building, far sturdier than I anticipated them being as I pushed on one. It swung open with a creak, but before I could cross the threshold, Cirian grabbed onto the fabric bundled around my shoulders, keeping me from moving forward any further.

“Just a moment, Toto,” he whispered, pulling gently to guide me out of the way. Once the doorway was clear, Cirian held out a hand, his palm pressing flat against an invisible barrier where the door had been. Taking in a deep breath, Cirian muttered a string of words under his breath, the air quickly taking on the distinct smell of ozone as a crackling ripped through the quiet, followed by the sound of splintering glass. Shimmering waves of magic rippled over the space around Cirian’s hand, then peeled away like tattered strips of paper held to a flame. Once he was satisfied, Cirian nodded in my direction, taking a cautious step inside.

It was not lost on me the peculiar scenario I found myself in. It was true that I had known Cirian since childhood, having interacted with him dozens of times throughout the years at social functions, sparring sessions, and meetings held at Chateau Greene—at least, those were the moments I could recall—but that was well before I had shown up to the Cradle, flaunting my recently revivified self to the man who was tasked with leading the witch hunt for all things necromantic. And now I found myself alone with him, in a secluded place, miles away from anyone or anything. What were the odds Cirian allowed me to live through the night? As I lingered in the doorway, I weighed the options of risking it in the woods and making a run for it now.

Cirian glanced over his shoulder, already halfway down the aisle of the sanctuary.

“Are you coming, Toto?”

I had to decide quickly. Even Cirian would have a difficult time locating me if I was fast enough to disappear into the thicket. But what would I do once I was on my own? I had no magic—at least none I could use without debilitating side effects—and no other means of finding Bastien.Ifhe had even made it out of the camp alive. A sinking dread bloomed in my stomach at the idea. Maybe Mother had been successful in her ploy, and the Rebellion had been stamped out in one fell swoop?

That would mean Lynette….

Cirian face appeared in the doorway, a quizzical expression twisting his brow. “I know it doesn’t look like much, but I assure you that you’ll be much safer in here than out there.”

Perhaps I could just ask him outright? He’d always been painfully honest in the times I could recall. Why would that have changed now?

“Why are you doing this?” I asked, remaining planted in place. “Why are you keeping me safe?”

“Would you prefer I left you to the wolves?” Cirian asked, bemused.

“I want to know you’re not going to slit my throat while I sleep.”

Cirian laughed at that, his chuckle sharp and harsh. “Toto, dear, if I wanted you dead, I could have left you bleeding out in that field of wildflowers. Have I not done enough to earn at least a smidgen of trust?”

“I’ve had a very long and trying day,” I said, running a hand through my matted curls. “So, you’ll have to forgive me for my cautious behavior. You did threaten my life not twelve hours ago, in case you’ve forgotten.”

Cirian leaned a broad shoulder against the frame of the door, expanding his chest with a deep breath. I tried valiantly to ignore the way the lithe muscle of his bicep bunched as he crossed his arms. “What else was I supposed to do, Toto? You waltzed into the Cradle with that heavy Veil, thinking that I wouldn’t be able tosmellthe death that lingered on you. Really, you’d have better luck hiding from starving hounds after rolling around in yesterday’s scraps.”

I took an instinctive step back, inhaling deeply. If I smelled of death, then it must not have been an aroma with which I was familiar.

“I wasn’t exactly given time to bathe,” I said, face warming at the implication. “And I was dead for three days before Bastien got to me—I do not need to defend myself to you.”

“Peace, Toto,” Cirian managed through his hearty laughter. “The necromancer’s magic doesn’t leave you rank. But that’s exactly what I could smell on you.Hisscent. His magic running through your veins. It made me—” he stopped, something flickering in his dark eyes that set me on edge. “He should have known better than to bring you there. If I hadn’t reacted in the appropriate manner, I would have drawn even more suspicion. You can imagine that Sancha doesn’t exactly support my involvement with the Rebellion, so I must keep up the charade on all fronts.”

“And threatening our lives was you acting on your best behavior?”

His eyes narrowed. “When I am acting as the Acolyte of the Church, then yes, occasionally it is. You’re not exactly one to stand on the moral high ground, Toto. Or have you conveniently forgotten the number of lives you’ve ruined in the name of your mother?”

I flinched at his words.

“I’m sorry,” Cirian amended, his tone softening. “There’s little room for me to judge. My hands are far from clean. We do what we must to survive.”

At that moment, for the first time, I was glad for the memories taken from me, if only to avoid the phantoms of those Cirian referred to. I knew I couldn’t hide from them forever, that if I survived the coming days, I would have to face the reality of who I was. The lives I had destroyed.

My stomach turned at the thought.

“Come inside,” Cirian said gently, stepping aside to make room. “You’re exhausted, and I swear on the Source that no harm will come to you under this roof.”

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