Page 123 of House of Dusk
Nilos coughed, and stumbled, though he managed to make it look like a sudden decision to drape himself against the wall. He eyed her warily.
She took a step closer. He did not flinch away, which was a good sign. She’d been afraid she might end up looking the fool. Which, granted, was probably the least of her concerns right now. Though not according to her thrumming heart, apparently.
The slim wedge of air between them grew warm. She hadn’t seen him move, but he felt closer. When he sighed, it stirred the loose threads of her hair against her cheek. He reached out, tucking the strand behind her ear, fingers brushing her neck.
“Sephre, I—”
He broke off. Sephre shuddered at a sudden chill. The spirits pressed close around them, silver eyes bright, their whispers skittering over her skin.We are here.
• • •
The heart of the labyrinth was an open space fitted like a bowl within curved black walls. It reminded Sephre of the shrine at Stara Bron, except at its center was a wide, flat pool. There was little else to draw the eye. A few gnarled trees bent along the edge of the pool, but they were dead and leafless. Dark red vines twisted across the stones, dry, leathery leaves rustling like half-heard whispers from another room.
A single span of stone arched across the pool, ending at a point in the exact center. From where she lurked, along the far side of the pool, Sephre couldn’t see what lay there. A mass of rippling darkness obscured it. “Are those...skotoi?”
Demons, whispered one of the spirits. Sephre had given up trying to count how many there were. The mist shifted ceaselessly, trailing her and Nilos like a silver-gray cloak, more agitated now that they were so close.They guard the flame. They make this place our prison.
“It must be the flame of awakening,” said Nilos. “Where the spirits go to be reborn. Blocking it would trap the spirits here. Make them easier prey.”
Sephre gritted her teeth until her jaw ached. She wanted to look away, but she had to understand the ground. Especially given that she had good reason to believe this was a trap. At the very least, they were expected. Another, larger mass of skotoi had gathered at the near end of the stone bridge. Many were the formless slithering shadow-things that seemed to be the demons’ natural form. But at least a dozen wore human flesh—a few shrouded corpses, more that had reshaped themselves, with long spiny fingers of bone, wings of flayed skin, extra limbs molded of melted flesh. One was a monstrous four-legged beast that reminded Sephre of an enormous skeletal boar. She shuddered at the sight of the sharp tusks.
But where was Timeus? Her heart lodged in her throat. Her fingers splayed, ready to tear her way through the lot of them.
“Your lad Timeus,” said Nilos, pointing. “He’s alive.”
Her legs wavered with relief. He was. Overlarge ears and lanky frame and quivering braids and all. The skotoi had bound him to a stone pillar, arms wrenched up above his head. He was moving, albeit weakly. Horror clawed her throat as a spidery skotos—each leg tipped with a pale limp hand—pawed at Timeus, hissing hungrily. Sparks of crimson flickered around his fingers. The skotos snarled, retreating a pace, but flexing two of its legs, fingers growing long and thin as needles.
Sephre was about to lunge forward—caution be damned—when one of the other skotoi lashed the spider with a supple, boneless limb.Patience. Soon the master will break the cycle. And then we will feast. Then they will all be ours.
Hissing, the spidery skotos backed away. Timeus sagged against the pillar. Still bound, but no longer in immediate peril.Hold on, lad. I’m coming.
Sephre looked to Nilos. “So their master isn’t here. Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”
“Good, if it means we only have to face that lot.”
No. They were missing something. “But why? Their master wants to stop the Serpent from returning. So why isn’t he here to do that? What does ‘breaking the cycle’ mean?”
She chafed her arms against the chill of the labyrinth. And the deeper chill of her own suspicions. Lacheron hadn’t come to Stara Bron seeking only the dagger. He’d wanted the agia. He’d wanted Beroe to return with him, to summon the Phoenix so she might restore the Faithful Maiden to life.
“What if the Ember King wanted the dagger back for a different reason? What if he doesn’t care about killing the Serpent? What if he’s after a different god?”
Nilos stared at her. Then his green gaze shifted to the middle distance. Thinking. And not good thoughts, judging by the grim set of his jaw. “That wouldnotbe good. It would be...apocalyptic.” He gave a small shake of his head. “But there’s little we can do about it now. What wecando is free your boy. And these spirits.”
“Two unarmed mortals against two dozen demons of the underworld?” She grimaced. “I don’t like our odds.”
Nilos drew a short dagger from his belt, the one he’d used to carve the toy horse for his niece. He held it out. “Does this help?”
“I don’t suppose you have anything a little bigger?”
He gave her a frankly wicked smile. “Maybe later.”
She had to stifle a snort of laughter. Now they were both making terrible jokes. That was a bad sign. “What about you?” she asked.
“I think it’s my turn to be the distraction,” he said. “Get to Timeus. Cut him free. His flames should be enough to drive the skotoi from the center of the pool. From the holy flame. Then the spirits can reach it and be reborn. And...and you can reach it, too.”
“Why would I—oh.”
Beroe had stripped away her flame. But there was nothing to stop Sephre from reclaiming it. She had trained for it. She had done it once before. Surely the Phoenix would accept her return.Ifthat was truly what Sephre wanted.
