Page 124 of Promise of Darkness
“Mother of Night,” Eris curses, drawing her sword. “Are youtryingto get us killed?”
Instantly, the guards surrounding my sister set hands to weapons. Andraste quells them with a single sharp flick of her hand. “Killed by what?”
It’s only then that I notice the silence.
A frog croaks somewhere in the distance.
Wind whispers across the lake.
And as it blows, the mist stirs.
It doesn’t disguise a damned thing.
Because there’s nothingtodisguise.
The Hallow is naught but ruins, covered in a thin layer of snow. Everything—the tents, the crane, the work teams—are gone.
Or, if one is kind, it looks as though they never existed.
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Edain’s sword clears his scabbard. “Is this supposed to be a trick? What mockery is this? There’s nothing here. Nothing but broken stones and rubble.”
I step forward. “It’s no trick.” Or at least, not from us. “There were teams of enslaved goblins here, and a troll….” I can see it all as clearly as day. The enormous crane the troll pushed…. It should have been right there.
But there’s nothing but wind whispering through the long-abandoned streets. Nothing but an ancient tattered curtain flapping in a distant window.
Thiago kneels, brushing aside the fine layer of snow. His fingers pause as they find one of the ancient runes, the bronze pitted and scarred. “I’m not the only one with a gift for illusion.”
“Enough.” Edain laughs under his breath. “It’s cold enough to freeze my fucking balls off, and you dragged us here for this mockery. I’m done. Andraste?”
Andraste’s hand comes to rest upon her sword, but she’s watching me. Not him.
“My queen will hear of this,” Muraid sneers. She spits on the ground, then turns and stalks away, leading her contingent of fae warriors.
It’s all falling apart.
My gaze meets Thiago’s, as he slowly stands.
“How?” I whisper.
Angharad can’t have just made an entire Hallow disappear. That would require magic beyond any that even the queens have.
“During the wars,” Thiago murmurs, still glancing around, “an entire company of seelie warriors entered the ruins of Morghulis to make camp. It was long abandoned, or so they thought. Only one came out. He spoke of an empty ruin suddenly vanishing around him, as though someone swept the curtain aside to reveal an entire castle teeming with unseelie. They were there all along, he said. And we thought him mad.”
Edain kicks at one of the sentinel stones that leers to the right like a drunken reveler. Snow shivers off the top of it. “Aye, Valarien of the Greenmantle.” His lip curls. “I remember that story too. And it was just a story. No one has the power to make half a city vanish. There’s nothing here. Nothing but trickery.” He points his sword directly at Thiago. “Or is it treachery? I cannot help but notice that you’ve gathered the powerful fae of each kingdom here, where they can be destroyed in one fell swoop. Guards!”
The Asturian guards snap to attention, their swords out and pointed toward us.
But I swear I heard something to the right….
A little metallic click, as though steel scraped on stone.
“What is it?” Thiago whispers hoarsely.
I hold up a hand, my head cocked to listen.
Silence. Nothing but silence.
