Page 57 of Dead Wrong

My pulse rushed in my ears. If Bastien had been captured, did that mean Lynette was taken as well? Had Mother already disposed of her quietly as she originally intended? The room was starting to spin around me.

“A Reviled amongst the Rebellion?” Cirian mused, the slightest edge in his voice. “How troubling. Do you know for what reason they enlisted the services of a necromancer?”

The Cardinal paused, her gaze drifting over to me for a brief moment. I stiffened my posture, pouring new diligence into holding the motionless pose.

“I have my theories,” the Cardinal finally said. “But it matters not. This qualm between Adoranda and the Unseen is finally reaching its end. It won’t be long before the bloodshed will cease and we can return to preparing the Magi for the second Awakening.”

“I look forward to that day,” Cirian replied, bowing his head slightly.

“Now, what was it that you needed to discuss with me?”

Cirian hesitated. “It’s nothing of grave importance. We can discuss it at a more opportune juncture.”

The Cardinal nodded, turning to exit when Cirian called out to her.

“Your Eminence, might you wish I accompany you to Chateau Greene? Adoranda has always had a certain fondness for me, and I should like to witness the first Reviled confirmation since my time as Acolyte.”

The Cardinal pondered the request, her back turned to Cirian. But then she glanced over her shoulder and gave a curt nod. “We leave within the hour.”

Cirian bowed his head once more. “You honor me, Your Eminence.”

Once the door closed behind the Cardinal, I deflated with a sigh.

“Well, that’s piss-poor luck,” Cirian muttered, rubbing the stubble along his chin.

I ripped off the mask, no longer able to contain the gasping breaths that tore from my chest. “What will happen to Bastien?”

“If history has been any indicator, he won’t be leaving Chateau Greene alive, which is a major problem….”

That seemed an understatement. “They’re going to kill him?”

“And since he’s the one who cast the initial revivification,” Cirian continued muttering under his breath, moving to the large bookshelf on the far wall and running his finger along the spines as he searched.

“Cirian.”

He pulled out a leather-bound tome, flipping through the pages quickly as he continued, “What if he can’t perform the rite? Is there an alternative?”

“Cirian, please, don’t leave me floundering.”

He paused, looking up from the tome with a solemnity I’d rarely seen him display. “If he dies before he completes the resurrection rite, then there may not be another option.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means you’ll die. Again. And worse, without your own magic to guide your soul back to the Source, I’m almost certain you’ll be lost to the ether.”

Son of the Second, lost in the ether.

The line rang in my ears as if it were spoken again.

Was the prophecy about me? I quickly shook the idea from my head. There were more important things to concern myself with at the moment, like staying alive.

“We have to save him,” I said, a twinge in my chest stifling my breath. To imagine Bastien being put to death was almost too terrible to consider, and I wasn’t convinced it was only because of my own dire fate should it happen.

“Why do you think I convinced her Eminence to let us accompany her? It’s not going to be easy, but we’ll figure something out. At least for now, we’ve got our foot in the door. Now, there’s no time to wait, and we need to make ready.” He set the tome on his desk, crossing to the door in the corner of the chamber and opening it before stepping aside. “Your bath, as promised. I’ll have to fetch you some new garments so you can accompany me as my steward.”

I nodded, in no position to argue.

Cirian gave me a wide berth as I trudged over to the washroom. A luxurious marble setting awaited me, a tub recessed into the floor. Just seeing the promise of a bath made my bones ache with want, so I muttered my thanks and closed the door behind me.

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