Page 61 of Malicent
I exhale. We need to move. Kalix pauses near the corpse of the grotesque, malformed child-thing, pulling his cloak from his shoulders. Silently, he crouches and begins rolling her body up. Meanwhile, I kneel beside the shredded Creptius Vox, beginning the slow, tedious process of collecting samples. To my mild surprise, Millicent joins me. She lowers herself to the ground, placing her satchel beside her.
Kalix is right. We are working together. We have to work together. If I am to survive this, I need to be stronger. Letting emotion dictate my actions—rising to every taunt, every challenge—is a weakness. One I refuse to succumb to.
Millicent is here willingly, but not for the reasons Nora claims. I do not believe, for one second, that this has anything to do with Tyran and wanting to avoid persecution.
No, she has a reason. A plan. And, for now, I will use her. I will let her fight, let her teach, let her reveal what she can do. I will watch and wait, and one day, she will slip. That will be herdownfall. She will show her true colors, and when she does, I will strike. She flaunts her power because that is what her coven demands. She shows everything because it is in her nature to be seen.
I will not make the same mistake.
I will hold back. I will learn everything she is. And then, I will crush her with it.
The thought settles in my chest like a slow-burning ember, and I almost smile, even as the rancid stench of the Crep’s rotting flesh fills my lungs.
I continue collecting samples.
Chapter 16
Millicent
I HAVE NEVER BEEN INSIDE Iris’s lab, but as a Necromancer, I expected some grim space filled with carcasses. I’d heard tales of Necromancer covens—how their god-like egos made them insufferable, their creations prowling the grounds like extensions of their will. Their buildings were rumored to have towering steel rods spiraling into the sky, calling lightning to fuel their twisted experiments. I imagined blood-streaked floors, air thick with decay, and instruments with purposes I couldn’t even begin to name.
The wooden door slams open with a resounding thud as Kalix kicks it with enough force to send it crashing into the stone wall.
“Classy as always,” Cage remarks, shoving his hands in his pockets. He strolls past Kalix like someone who has been here many times before.
Kalix lets out a disgruntled huff. “I carried a rotting corpse through half the damn castle. I’ll kick open whatever door I damn well please.” He stomps inside, the bundled body still slung over his shoulder.
I take a step back, observing the ease with which he carries the thing. Kalix is a large man, all strength and brutal efficiency, but his endurance is what impresses me most. He’s carried that weight all the way from the horses, through the winding halls, and up the stairs without breaking a sweat.
The lab is nothing like I imagined. Instead of the dim, blood-soaked dungeon I expected, light floods the space, casting warm hues of yellow, green, and red across the atrium. The ceiling is formed by massive, circular windowpanes with colored glass that filters the sunlight into dancing patterns along the stone floor.
Shelves line the vast, circular room, stacked with glass bottles in every shade imaginable. Between them, potted plants spill their vines toward the ground, weaving through the space like living decoration. The air hums with energy that feels alive. It’s warm. Bright. Full of vitality. The air is fresh despite the corpses around—almost sterile with hints of herbal notes from the multitude of plants. It’s the complete opposite of what I had prepared myself for.
At the center, Iris stands hunched over a steel table, sawing into a carcass. She doesn’t seem the least bit disturbed. A record spins in a wooden player beside her, its golden flower-shaped speaker pouring out a gentle, rhythmic melody that feels utterly out of place.
Hearing us enter, she pauses mid-cut and lifts her head. Her peculiar goggles—bulky and strange—are fitted with at least ten rotating lenses. She tugs them up onto her forehead, revealing sharp green eyes that glint with curiosity. It’s almost absurd, theway she butchers a carcass in a room bathed in colored light and the scent of fresh plants.
She’s dressed in deep-moss green overalls, the fabric speckled with dried stains; whether they’re from blood or something else, I can’t tell. Her fiery hair is pulled back into a loose half-up style, allowing a few wild strands to tumble freely down her back.
“Back already? And you brought a gift?” Her eyes lock onto Kalix as he makes his way to an empty steel table.
“A whole mutated corpse—your favorite,” he grunts, hauling the bundle off his shoulder. The body lands with a dull, wet thud on the metal surface.
Iris wipes her hands clean on a rag, then pushes her goggles up, placing them on her forehead, tucking them just above her bangs. “Oh, goodie!” She beams, her excitement almost childlike. She might be an oddity among Necromancers, but her fascination with the dead is on brand.
Cage drags a stool closer and plops onto it, leaning back against the table behind him. He motions to the corpse, “We brought samples too—another specimen. Millicent killed both, so she can give you the details.”
Iris claps her hands together. “Ah, the first day out, and you’re already handling it all! How exciting.” Her voice is warm, strangely delighted given the circumstances. “I’ll need a full report, but be warned, I’ll write down everything you say.” She hums as she reaches impatiently for the cloak covering the body, her fingers curling around the fabric, ready to peel it back.
Before she can, Kalix’s hand shoots out, catching her wrist.
“Slow down, Iris.” He says firmly with no room for argument. “Millicent said there’s something wrong with this one when you touch it. I’ll do it.” His thumb brushes over her wrist before releasing her, and she hesitates only for a moment before pulling her hand back. Her gaze flicks to me.
“What happens when you touch it?” Her curiosity sharpens along with her tone.
Kalix begins unwrapping the body, his hands are ironically careful despite his brute strength.
I step forward, finally moving deeper into the lab. My eyes adjust to the way the daylight hits the corpse. Under the warm glow, it looks more unsettling than in the cave. “A Crepitus Vox was present.” I say steadily, but my mind is still reeling. “No one can break into my mind—yet when my foot touched this girl, or whatever she was, it just…let it in.” I stare down at the corpse, still puzzled, replaying the event in my mind. Now fully exposed under the daylight, it’s even clearer that this had once been a girl—somehow reanimated, twisted into something terribly inhuman.
