Page 106 of At the Mercy of Midnight
“Give me three guesses,” Silas said sarcastically. “I’ll get there eventually.”
Demetrius looked blandly at him. “The ritual was designed by the Gemino tribe, long forgotten by history books, usually requires two people. Luckily, I don’t need two.” He stepped back inside, eyes roaming over Silas. “I only need you.”
“Do stop, you’ll make me blush.”
Demetrius smiled, shaking his head. “Your attitude is admirable, but I’ve watched you enough to know it’s a façade.”
“Not creepy at all.”
“You won’t be joking soon,” he told Silas, and there it was again. A spike of fear, the kind that was bottomless, unmooring. Demetrius moved closer and tapped briefly at the cuffs keeping Silas in place. “I can hardly believe you’re joking now, frankly. These were developed by a powerful mage, just for this purpose. You’re strong, that’s…good.” He looked at him, eyes shining with an admiration Silas couldn’t comprehend.
“You have a mage?”
He nodded. “Gathering the mages has been my best idea of late.”
Silas stared at him incredulously. “You…you’re the reason that mages have been disappearing.”
He lifted a shoulder casually. “They have been repurposed, and it’s been a wonderful development for the Sanctum.”
“You’re crazy,” Silas spat, pulling against his restraints. He groaned, his body sagging with an onslaught of exhaustion. “Ugh…whatisthis?”
Demetrius moved to Silas and tapped on the pendant around his neck. “Handy thing, this,” he said quietly, meeting Silas’ eyes with a small smile. “A Gemino artefact, very powerful…a siphon, just as Amelia is. Which means I don’t need her at all. All I need is…you.” Demetrius straightened and moved a step away again.
Silas swallowed, uncertain how to respond.
“Once the siphon has your magical essence, your soul will be taken by the Midnight Realm.” He leaned against the wall, arms folding over his chest. “A sacrifice if you will. Once complete, I’ll have what I want.”
Silas’s jaw tightened. “And what is it that you want?”
Those dark eyes looked directly at him, piercing. He took a little too long to answer. “Balance, of course. To right what is wrong in Aethrial.”
“You speak of the discordant magic, the Rift?”
Demetrius tilted his head. “Of course.”
Something slithered through him, a coil of dishonesty. Silas didn’t believe him.
“I know you feel it,” Demetrius murmured, stepping closer again. “The full moon nears once more, and that will be your end anyway. Moon to moon is all you get. I’ll help you both before you unravel entirely from it. The Midnight Realm is calling, Silas…you can’t ignore it.”
He said nothing. The silence, thick with defiance, stretched between them.
Demetrius sighed. “You have no control, I’m sorry to say.”
Silas’ stomach twisted.
Not because of what he said.
No.
Because he had felt it. Felther.
The tether in his chest stirred awake, and Silas didn’t know how, but he sensed she was close. She was coming.
Silas bit at his tongue, the pain grounding him as he tasted the metallic tang of his own blood. He released an angry breath. “Have you considered there might be another way? We’ve been working to control the magic, we could fix it on our own—”
“There’s no controlling it,” Demetrius said, moving for the door again. “It will control you, until you are both gone. It’s better this way.”
He gritted his teeth. “You don’t know that.”
