Page 40 of Dissection of Immortal Hearts
“Chains?”
“I said, I don’t know.”
“Magic?”
“Oracle, contrary to popular belief, my power is not limitless. It has its boundaries.” The witcher folded his arms. “And one of those is that I cannot divine answers. That, as I recall, is your power.”
Her frustration bubbled over. Despite what he claimed, visions weren’t her innate strength – not according to Gea’s letters – but they were all she had to rely on.
She racked her brain, trying to think of something. Then, she remembered last night’s vision. The suffocating tightness in the lungs of the being whose mind she’d first entered… If there was an object around Mikhail that barred his passage through portals and strangled him, she had to uncover it – no matter the cost.
“If you wish, I can getyouout of Antambazi,” the witcher said. “I can open a portal from here to the ends of the Earth. This heart will pay what’s owed to meandalso our debts to the Higher Powers. Accept the deal, and you’ll be free in sixty seconds.”
“No.” Amelia’s shoulders slumped. Only now did she realise just how much hope she’d invested in a single heart.
The witcher studied her with a mix of curiosity and calculation, rubbing his chin with his thumb and forefinger. “In that case… I might be able to do something, but I can’t guarantee success. It won’t be easy and may not come without consequences.”
“What is it?” Amelia asked impatiently. She was prepared for anything but returning to the charade of loyalty to the Queen.
The witcher’s gaze remained fixed on her face for a long moment.
“Please,” she said, sensing his hesitation.
He smirked. “Very well. I’ll give you my melody.”
As if summoned by magic, music filled the cavern, ethereal and exquisite. It emanated from the cracks, the dark corners, and the shadows, seeping into Amelia’s body like an opiate – or a miraculous balm. Under its influence, the Queen, Mikhail, and even Amelia’s own existence ceased to matter, for the world was made of music, and nothing else held significance.
Then, the music ceased, and the world became grey once again.
“A snap of your fingers will silence the melody and wake youfrom the trance,” the witcher’s harsh voice grounded her again.
“The melody puts people in a trance?” Amelia asked. “I thought your hypnosis only worked on humans.”
“My hypnosisislimited to humans. My music, however, works on all species. But I have two conditions for giving it to you.” He rubbed his chin again. “First, if you get caught, you must not reveal the secret of the music. And second, you must not use it on the Queen.”
He untied the pouch’s string to extract the heart. When he sniffed the organ, evaluating its quality, Amelia had to suppress her gag reflex. “Why can’t I use it on the Queen?”
His eyes met hers over the bloody, fatty surface of the heart, its blood vessels dangling over his wrist. “Because it won’t work on her.” He pulled the heart away from his face. “All you’ll achieve is giving her the idea of yet another way to manipulate the minds of beings.”
“Why doesn’t your magic affect her?”
“If you find the answer to that question, you’ll gain an advantage over her.”
With one more snap of his fingers, a small square table with two chairs materialised between them. On its chequered cloth, two empty plates appeared, each with a fork and knife.
“With the music, you’ll be able to reach the beings you want to save and leave the realm.”
It sounded good, but… “I… don’t know where Mikhail is. Could you give me a clue so I can find him?”
“I can’t help with that.”
“I had a vision. I think I was inside his mind… and there was this strange buzzing sound, like from a machine. Does that mean anything to you?”
The witcher watched her curiously. “It doesn’t ring any bells.”
She tried to recall the vision, hoping to grasp anotherdetail: the buzzing, the pain, the despair. Yes, there had been something else…
“It smelt of sea salt.”
