Page 233 of Bitten & Burned
“He had to have known it wouldn’t get all of us,” Anton muttered.
Nope, because that wasn’t what he was trying to do.
I shook my head. “Nope. Just the strongest. He thought he’d separate us. That’s the only way he wins—if he gets us… me… alone.”
“So where’s the real door?”
I couldn’t remember.
“Here,” Quil said, stepping toward a blank section of wall. “I remember the angle of the light when I took Rowena out last time.”
He pressed his palms against the stone, feeling along the surface until his fingers found a hidden seam. With a firm push, the illusion dissolved like smoke, and the true door swung open.
And there was Silas—standing directly in front of us, framed by the dark. His smile was slow and deliberate as he began to clap, each sound echoing in the still air.
“Very good, Ashborne,” he said, voice like oil over glass. “You brought her back to me. I told you she’d come back.”
Thirty-Nine
TRAPS
Dun Drummond, Sol, Verdune
13 Vony, Year 810
“Very good,Ashborne. You brought her back to me. I told you she’d come back.”
I swallowed, narrowing my eyes at the man in front of me. His gaze was steady. Too steady. He looked in our general direction, not at any one of us. If this were really Silas, he’d be staring right at me.
I reached for Quil’s arm, grabbing it and holding on. He looked back at me, puzzled and snarling.
“It’s not him,” I whispered. “Another trap.”
“She’s right,” Vael murmured. “See how his gaze doesn’t land on any of us? It’s a projection.”
Quil calmed slightly, and my hand dropped.
And, like I expected, the glamour flickered like a bulb burning out, disappearing and revealing what was actually behind it: a snare set to snap the leg of anyone who stepped into it.
“That’s two,” Cassian muttered.
“He’s setting traps for us,” Dmitri said.
“To get Rowena alone?” Anton asked, sheathing his dagger.
“Or get us out of the way,” Quil replied. “Either one serves his purposes.”
“So what do we do?” Anton asked.
“We move forward. Slowly and carefully,” I said.
“Rowena knows how to spot these. This man was her teacher,” Vael said. “We follow her, and we listen to her. If she says stop, we stop. Got it?”
The others nodded in agreement.
My stomach knotted up as we moved forward, down the corridor, side-stepping the snare as we did. I tried doors. Ones that seemed innocuous. One that turned out to be just a red herring as well.
And then one that looked too good to be true.
