Page 164 of At the Mercy of Midnight
Amelia’s lip wobbled. “Silas is here…”
Lyana glanced around with a shrug. “He will be.”
Her mind buzzed, trying and failing to process what was being said. “You…the journal. It was never Bane’s.” Amelia fell to her knees, the truth crashing over her like a wave, forcing her body downwards.
“No,” she agreed, “I wrote it.” Then she laughed again, like a joyous child. “I truly never saw it coming that you would find a way to rewrite the entire thing. I was almost eager to see if you would manage it…if you mightactuallyfix everything. But then, where would that leave me?”
She glared up at her with fury. “You’re crazy.”
“Spend as long as I have here and try telling me I’m crazy again. I’d bet you wouldn’t. I’d bet you would stand right beside me.”
Amelia’s head shook. “I wouldnever.”
She shrugged a single, delicate shoulder. “We’ll see, perhaps.”
And with that, she vanished, leaving Amelia standing alone by the lake that shimmered until it looked like glass shattering. Until the forest no longer resembled trees, but tall, spindly ghosts of lost souls.
She was left in a night that screamed with memory.
Amelia woke hours later. She had been given a mild sedative to help her rest, Brinkley describing her catatonic state when she arrived.
She sat at the table now, fingers curling around a warm mug that she hadn’t yet had a sip of. Her hair fell limply around her head, skin pale and eyes shadowed with the truth of everything that had happened, everything she had learned.
Silas’ cloak was still wrapped around her shoulders like armour. It smelled like him, a memory that both comforted and saddened her.
Brinkley set a small plate of bread and cheese in the middle of the table, taking a seat across from her. Next to her was Halpert, and on her other side, was Aurora.
Fabian had, according to Brinkley, ‘flounced out of here right after you left.’
Brinkley watched her worriedly. “What happened, Lia. Can you tell us?”
Aurora sat back in her chair, the wood squeaking as she folded her arms tightly, looking to Amelia expectantly. She hadn’t said anything yet, her jaw set. She stared at Amelia like she wanted to ask a thousand questions.
Halpert looked on, face grey and weary, as though he hadn’t slept in days.
Amelia pushed her untouched mug of tea away from her with a deep, fortifying breath. “Silas…he’s gone.”
Silence around the table.
Finally, Aurora spoke. “We know that,” she said, voice wobbly, yet holding a strength Amelia wished she herself possessed. “What we want to know, is what happened, why didn’t the changes work?”
Amelia nodded once, her chest feeling hollow. “We were ambushed.” She kept her eyes low, no desire to see their reactions. “The Sanctum, Demetrius, was there. We didn’t even get a chance to try the changes. Silas, he…” Amelia’s throat threatened to close, her finger scratching at the table, trying notto lose it. “Demetrius threatened to kill me, and so Silas went through with it. The…original version from, uh, the journal.”
The lie.
Lyana’s betrayal, it still had her by the throat.
She stared at the table. “He did it to save me.”
Aurora sucked in a sharp breath. “Of course he did,” she said bitterly. “Silas always thought the weight of the world belonged on his damn shoulders.”
“Why, then…” came Halpert’s gentle, inquisitive tone, “if the sacrifice was performed, is our land still compromised?”
Her eyes closed, foolishness wrapping around her. “It…I made a mistake,” she choked out.
“What mistake?” Aurora demanded.
“I trusted someone I never should have.” Tears sprang and she clenched her eyes shut.
