Page 22 of Immortal Alliance

“I can get us out of here.”

“How?” she demands.

“The mirror I took from Pyre’s secret room may be able to home in on his specific magic signature.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means the mirror might be able to reveal our whereabouts.”

She inhales deeply and then shakes her head as she looks at me. “You’re nearly as bad as Kolvar, you know that?” she says with a fond smile.

“I would prefer you not compare me to a satyr, thank you,” I grumble.

Her smile deepens. “He’s not just a satyr. He took so many beatings for me when we were here the last time, I lost count. He nearly died for me, and I didn’t know him for as long as I’ve known you.” She takes a breath and faces me in earnest. “I don’t want to shoulder the guilt of causing someone’s death, especially yours.”

“Having friends who wish to save you isn’t a burden, Aima, it’s a blessing.”

“I don’t look at it the same way.” She unfolds her limbs and slides up the wall to gain some form of balance. “And if you’re trying to do this simply to find redemption for your actions, then go fuck yourself.”

“I'm not after redemption. At least, not yet,” I reply. My knees creak as I move closer to the bars. Hanging her head, Aima scrubs her hands over her face. I lower my tone and try a gentler approach to obtain the information I want. “If Theren is no longer at the head of the Unseelie Court, it was not by Morrigan’s doing.”

“What do you mean?”

I shrug. “Morrigan wouldn’t want her pawn to lose power.”

Aima nods. “Someone infiltrated Oronrel. I don’t know who it was, but I can sense a foreign magic here in the palace.”

“A foreign magic?” I ask, my tone laced with doubt.

Aima nods. “You’ve been gone so long, you can’t tell the difference anymore.” She stretches, and I hear her spine pop as she adjusts herself. The color drains from her face and she breathes through the pain. “But, I know it’s true. Once I find out who it is, I can put an end to the unlawful executions.”

“Ifyou find out who it is,” I respond before shaking my head. “You need to understand

there’s more at stake than finding a spy. We need to get back to our group if we have any chance of making it through this—“

The sound of approaching boots cuts me off, and I cast the concealment spell only seconds before the door bursts open. Aima glances up briefly as two guards enter the dungeon. One of them forces open her cell while the other enters. Aima dodges his attempt to restrain her.

I make it across the dungeon just as she slams her knee into the guard’s abdomen. Aima is loyal to the Unseelie, which means she won’t stop until she sets them free. Regardless, I won’t leave her behind. The sounds of her fighting continue behind me as I move unseen out of the dungeon. I hurry back to my bedchamber, easing the door shut behind me before collapsing onto the bed.

My entire body throbs with pain.

***

BARON

The Veil

“You’re catching on quickly, Baron,” Pyre says as he instructs me through the process of closing one of the ancient rifts in the Veil.

My hands quiver and sweat pours down my face, but I ease the tear shut with unwavering concentration. Green is the color of my particular magic as it shifts and contorts the portal until the spell is complete.

Pyre spins me around and slowly hovers a hand in front of my face, as though he’s using his power to probe my energies.

“There aren’t many who can close a portal that old on their first try,” he says.

“You don’t sound very excited about that.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m very impressed with your growth,” Pyre says as he steps back and hands me a small tool to carve new runes into the stones surrounding the old portal. “But the last Guardian of The Veil who learned that quickly turned dark long before I came along. From what I know, he was killed by the Sentinels for trying to taint the wellspring. Your aptitude reminds me how easy it is to turn.”

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