Page 97 of At the Mercy of Midnight
He felt hollow. Severed.
No longer whole.
“Take her dagger,” the same deep voice ordered. It tugged at his memory, his brain almost finding a name, but the panic swallowed it. Then his words registered, and his eyes flew open.
No.
“Wait…no!” Amelia cried.
He twisted towards her, helpless, watching as another yanked back her cloak to reveal the hidden sheath. She turned her hip to shield it, but they were faster. The hilt flashed, and her dagger was removed.
Everything seemed to stop, the attackers stilling, heads turning. A hushed reverence fell, as if they beheld something divine.
“His, too,” demanded the calm voice.
Silas couldn’t fight them off, couldn’t even lift his arms as gloved hands tore open his cloak and pulled free the golden dagger. His dagger.
It gleamed even in the darkness.
Silas clenched his teeth as it was taken, hidden away.
"Say goodbye, love," someone jeered behind him.
He spun, frantic.
Amelia stood, no longer restrained, one hand pressed to her throat and chest rising and falling in ragged gasps. Her eyes locked onto his.
"Finley—"
"It's okay," he rasped, struggling weakly against the hands holding him. “I’ll find you.”
The words felt hollow. It wasn’t okay. None of this was.
Hands yanked him upright and his body swayed, every part of him screaming to get to her, to grab her. But he couldn’t move.
“No, please, wait!” Amelia’s voice cracked, the desperation in her voice clawing at him, her hand reaching out to him.
But it was too late.
The attackers’ grip on him tightened as one more figure raised a Waystone chip, a shimmering piece of stone, and with a swift motion, Silas felt the magic pulse through him like a surge of lightning, yanking him away.
His body jerked, as if being torn from his own skin. He opened his mouth to call to Amelia, but the words died in his throat. The world around him faded into darkness, her frantic screams echoing in his ears.
He could only cling to the hope that somehow, he would find her again.
PART III
THE FORGOTTEN RITUAL
Amelia & Silas
TWENTY-THREE
“Finley!”
Amelia screamed his name, but in a mere moment, there was no one left in the alley to hear it. No one to hear the desperation, the panic, the turmoil in the name that she wailed into the night air.
One second, the narrow space had been filled with bodies, and in the next, Amelia was alone, twisting on the spot, confusion and fear swamping her.
