Page 96 of The Ordeals
‘And the vault? The threats? I was a child!’
‘I never pushed you beyond your limits.’
‘Some scars are not visible to the eye,’ I say darkly. ‘But I will carry with me the memories of every moment in that vault until the day I die.’
‘Which would have been a lot sooner if I hadn’t made you sign that contract. If I hadn’t wrapped it around your wrist as a bracelet. How do you think you never broke a bone, never suffered a terrible injury?’ He leans forward. ‘That bracelet protected you. It bound you to me, so I could test you, push you.’
‘Until I what? Snapped?’
‘Until yousparked.’
I step back, reeling from this, my hand clamping around my left wrist where, for so long, that bracelet circled it.
‘And when you walked through the gates of Killmarth, that was the first time you were no longer under my protection. And youwere not ready.’
I watch him for a minute, this cold, remote man, Ezra Darley. ‘And what made it spark in the end?’ I say quietly. ‘Love. Love made me dig deeper. Not fear, or pain, just love.’
We stare at each other, neither of us speaking as the seconds tick down on the clock on the mantelpiece. He opens his mouth, then closes it, shaking his head ruefully. ‘I loved you, in my own way,’ he says, voice rough and low, as though the words pain him to say. ‘But in you, I saw them. I saw … her. And as long as you were with me, I knew they were never coming back to claim you. My friends, my dearest friends. They’re all gone.’
Before I can ask more, before I can get to the heart of Ezra Darley, the Collector, the elusive alchemist, before I can ask himabout my parents, a piercing cry echoes up through the floorboards. It’s joined by another, then another, and we are both already making our way out of the office as we hear thumps and muffled shouting. Then the string quartet screeches to a halt. When the pleading starts, I begin running to Keeper’s Hall below, the Collector on my heels. And what we find beyond the threshold is a nightmare.
Cold ones pour in, appearing from doorways beside the dais. Scholars, guests and professors alike scramble over each other, some wielding, illusions reforming then fracturing as the light gutters out, then on again, wild creatures, sharp claws, then back to true chaos.
‘Oh gods,’ I breathe.
The wards of Killmarth have been breached. I spot Lewellyn, just feet away, her hands outstretched, a plume of what appears to be fire gushing from them in a roar, her lilac silk dress getting caught under a heel as she stumbles back away from a cold one. The woman, pale and grey and monstrous bears down on her so quickly, I barely have time to understand what is happening, what I’m seeing, before she grips Lewellyn by the throat, and clamps down with her jaw.
‘No!’ I scream, moving towards her, Lewellyn choking, eyes rolling to mine, her hand outstretched towards me. Ezra throws out an arm, blocking me as the cold one drops Lewellyn’s limp body to the floor. And turns towards us.
Ezra shoves something in my hand, and when I look down, I find a wooden stake, laced with iron and I turn to him, not understanding, still not fully comprehending what is happening.
‘Aim for the heart and do not falter. Gods be with you.’ Then he charges for the cold one, thrusting his stake up, deep into the foul monster’s chest, and she unravels to dust around it.
I run to Lewellyn, the lilac silk lump of her body on the floor, so fragile and small, curled up like an animal. I turn her over, bloodgushing from her throat in a sticky stream. ‘Lewellyn! Hester! Don’t do this, don’t you do this—’
Professor Hess sinks to the ground on the other side of her, eyes wide as his trembling fingers reach for her face. ‘No,’ he murmurs. ‘Not you, never you …’
‘She’s dead,’ Ezra says at my side dispassionately. ‘Grieve her after we have saved the living. Remember your training, Sophia. Hess, on your feet.’
A werewolf howls across the hall, snapping my attention up and away from Lewellyn and Hess, and I see it leap, all fangs and fur, gnashing at a cold one, dragging it to the ground and ripping its heart from its very chest. ‘Frances,’ I breathe. ‘She’s transformed.’
More screams and moans and the horrifying squelch of bone and flesh fill the hall, the copper scent of blood everywhere, growing stronger. I’ve walked into a living nightmare. This can’t be real. This can’t be happening, not like this, not now.
But I have no time to find Alden, or Tessa, or even Greg as two cold ones round on Ezra and I’m suddenly fighting for my life. Ezra fights with precision, quick, tight movements, twisting his hand up towards the chandelier above our heads, crystal and glass tinkling and glistening, then between blinks, it’s made of iron. Sharp, dull and deadly. I duck, weaving away from a small, vicious cold one who appears as a child, almost angelic. I dance around them aiming a kick at their head and when they’re down, pin them quickly and drive the stake through their heart. They scream, long and shrill, and erupt in a haze of dust and ash before I’m up, moving again, finding Ezra standing over a similar heap of ash, just feet away.
He twists his hand and the chandelier cracks, detaching from the ceiling and crashing down into the centre of the hall. It takes out three cold ones, but also a guest, their legs trapped beneath it,a middle-aged man, his guttural cry of pain and shock making me hasten towards him.
‘Leave him,’ Ezra calls to me. ‘He’ll live if we kill the rest of them. Legs can be mended.’
The cold calculation guts me, but he’s right. He’s always right in moments of tactics, and I fall back, searching the hall for more of their ilk. Ezra darts towards two female cold ones stalking for Hess, who is creating a portal to shove them through, one that opens on nothing but sky. Ezra kicks one in the chest, and she falls through with a stiff, surprised gasp.
Knox appears at his side and they nod to each other, before Knox reaches his hand towards the iron chandelier and beckons. A spike shoots through the air and he catches it, skewering the other cold one and pushing her through the portal. Hess stumbles away, back to Hester Lewellyn’s body, crouching over it, as though she will somehow wake.
That’s when I hear him. I hear him call my name. Turning, I see him, too far away. A cold one clutching his throat, their manic eyes huge and ravenous.
The world moves like treacle, time slows, eddies, as I take one step towards Alden, then another, my heart a heavy bell in my chest, chiming like a death knell, and I realise distantly that I’m screaming,bellowingas I raise the stake high in my fist. I feel the roaring rush of my breath, the flame in my throat as I cry his name. Then in a blast of movement, he thrusts his raw power into the cold one’s chest and I reach him, slamming the stake into its heart.
The dust as it dies coats us both and I barely have time to glance at him before there’s a growl, low and threatening, the ground shuddering beneath my feet. My heart stutters as Greg, mid-leap, transforms right in front of us. He is huge and mighty, a terrifying creature of claw and fangs, barrelling into a cold one swiping forAlden’s back. Greg sinks his teeth into the cold one’s arm, shaking him like a rag doll, throwing him at the dais.
