Page 137 of At the Mercy of Midnight
“Let’s go,” she said softly.
They both turned and paused in unison.
At the far end of the corridor, standing in the entrance to the shelves, a dark figure stood just outside the light cast by their lamp. The figure was still, watching.
Her heart leapt uncomfortably in her chest, ice injecting in her veins as she began to panic before there was even a problem.
“It will just be a scholar,” Silas murmured quietly. “Hide the journal, and let’s walk out like we belong here.”
Amelia swallowed, heart pounding. Nodding, she tucked the journal away and began to move with false confidence down the aisle. As they got closer to the figure, her pulse increased. The person still did not move, and when the light of her lamp touched them, she saw they were clothed in dark robes, hood covering their bowed head so she couldn’t see their face beneath.
Silas sucked in a sharp breath and his hand was suddenly around her elbow, stopping her in her tracks abruptly. Ameliawas hauled to a halt, just as her eyes found what must have spooked him. The symbol on the front of the figures’ robes.
The Sanctum of Equilibrium.
They both took a step back quickly.
“The chip,” Silas said.
Amelia shook her head. “They don’t work in here. The runed door stops magical travel in and out.”
He let out a rough breath. “Fine,” he said, and with one arm, he held Amelia back as he raised his other at the figure. She felt the burst of magic he released, the robed person grunting as they were flung backwards, sprawling heavily to the ground. Silas tugged at her arm. “Run.”
They moved quickly, but the moment they stepped into the open chamber, she realised the danger they were truly in.
Robed figures stood all around the room in a circle, and in the centre, facing them, were her parents.
Her next breath stalled in her lungs at the sight of them, heart dropping.
Silas panted next to her, his grip on her arm punishing and desperate.
Her father stepped forwards, a bruise adorning the side of his face. He held out a hand, as though placating them. “Amelia, child, this will all be for the best.”
She shook her head, fear rooting her feet to the ground. “Father…”
“Do the spell,” her mother said in her cold, stern voice, commanding and even, “and bring her to me. Him you can have.”
Someone stepped forwards, drawing their hood back. They dragged someone along in their other hand.
It was Demetrius, and sprawling to the floor next to him, was Fabian Eros, bruised with a bloodied lip and bound with glowing silver cuffs.
The young mage, who they had last seen in Lunarian in his shamble of a shop, was staring at them with wide green eyes as though trying to convey something important, almost like an apology. But his mouth was already moving, words, a spell, tumbling from his mouth. Silas and Amelia had raised their hands at her mother’s command, but when she tried to find her magic, she found it trapped, hidden behind some locked door she could no longer access.
Amelia’s wide eyes locked on Fabian, who was muttering his chant nonstop, his words somehow blocking their magical access.
The robed figures drew closer, and it was Silas who first drew his blade from the sheath at his hip, holding it ready as they neared.
“Silas,” came a voice, Demetrius. They both glanced at the man. “That’s enough. You’ve taken too many chances, and we have to put an end to it. Time is running out.” His eyes flitted to the Midnight Blade in Silas’ hand, narrowing with a stark greed.
Amelia couldn’t hear Fabian’s low muttered words, but she could feel the sting of them, washing across her skin, dulling her bond and her connection to the Monoliths like a receding tide. Her knees buckled slightly at the feeling. Silas cursed under his breath as the Sanctum continued to near.
They were being caged and needed a plan. Fast.
Her eyes darted everywhere, mind spinning.
They couldn’t get to the door, and they couldn’t force their way out with their magic.
Trapped.
