Page 155 of Thorn Season
A power that only the ancient Spellmakers could harness.
I remembered the feeling of violation when the compass had targeted me. The sudden foreignness of my own specter, as if it were being pulled beyond my reach...
Was that the compass’s true purpose? To grasp the power of a specter before death rendered it intangible?
Did Erik wish to somehowexploitthat power?
The horse neighed, but I didn’t mount. I’d glimpsed the clock in the servants’ hall: thirty minutes until midnight. I could reach Backplace in fifteen minutes, riding hard.
That left fifteen minutes to spare.
My specter squirmed, echoing the truth now writhing inside me. The truth that I would carry this gift of freedom like a bitter stone in my heart if I didn’t stop Erik now, while I had the chance.
So I whispered to the horse, “Wait for me.” Then I turned back toward the palace.
Because the compass had been there all along.
And I wasn’t leaving Daradon without it.
45
It was madness. I knew it was. Yet my aching legs plunged me quickly down the hallways, driven by a new spike of energy.
I knew the palace intimately now—where the maids congregated, where the guards were stationed. So although I was a mess of cold sweat and nerves as I reached the first staircase, I reached it unnoticed.
Then came the climb.
I labored up each step, desperately hoping nobody would catch me halfway. I paused at the top, teetering, then pressed onward.
This was the journey I’d started after I’d read Keil’s note. It felt strange to finish it from the opposite direction, an exhausted husk of the girl I’d been. But sheer willpower kept me moving until only a few turns remained.
Voices echoed ahead and I faltered, skidding on the marble. I waited. The voices didn’t retreat. So, I scrambled backward, catching my breath in a nearby corridor.
The voices droned on, and I mentally counted the seconds. Two minutes passed. Three. Four.
My thighs trembled. How long had I taken to climb the stairs? How long would it take to climb down?
Was I already out of time?
I peeked around the corner, but the speakers were beyond view, somewhere in an adjacent hallway. Maybe if I continued, they wouldn’t notice me.
I began to step out when someone clasped my shoulder. Panic flooded me as I turned, knees buckling—
Carmen took my weight against her.
“Alissa?” She held on until I regained my balance, her face stark white with shock. “What happened to you?”
I leaned back against the wall, blood rushing in my ears. This was too much. I needed to forget the compass. I needed to leavenow.
But Carmen was studying me, a picture of uncertainty. “Erik said you were ill. Is that the same dress—?”
“No.” I stepped past her. Maybe I could still reach Backplace in time.
Carmen grabbed my elbow, frowning. “You’re clearly not well. I’ll bring a physician, and—” She paused as those voices drew nearer. Her eyes sparked with recognition, and I knew she’d heard him the moment I did.
Erik.
“Come, darling.” Carmen tugged my elbow. “Erik will know what to do.”
