Page 127 of The House Saphir
As she inched backward because she was too terrified to attempt turning around, she thought of Gabrielle, who had fled to this very tower when she had escaped from Bastien, who had transformed into a bird and flown away to safety.
It was a trick she might have taught Mallory while she was still alive. If Mallory had still been a witch. If Bastien hadn’t stolen her powers from her.
No. Not stolen. He had locked her magic away somehow.Locked it away behind that ghastly hourglass tattoo, a mockery of Velos’s gift. He hadn’t stolen it. He couldn’t have. She’d finished the spell, hadn’t she? She’d opened the door to Verloren. She’d bound him to these walls.
He cannot take away what you are.
But in that moment, Mallory hated Gabrielle Savoy. She hated petty magic. She hated god-gifts and sorcerers and these damned slippery roof tiles. She half crawled, half scooted toward the nearest dormer, Armand’s voice coaxing her forward inch by tedious inch. She tried to ignore the stinging wind that threw her hair into her face, and the way her fingers were cramping, and her sister’s cries barely heard over the din.
The tiles bucked beneath her, trying to throw her off.
Mallory cried out and threw her body flat against them. Armand pressed his body over hers while the tiles bucked again, beating out a jumbled rhythm, and suddenly the roof was pounding and clapping like an enormous piano. Clay cracked and shattered. The nearest chimney groaned, the stonework collapsed, and Mallory did not know if it was Bastien attacking them or the fire or both.
One of the roof tiles lifted, like the mouth of a monster preparing to clamp down on her hand.
Mallory screamed and let go, but Armand wrapped an arm around her, holding tight.
“We’re almost there,” he said. “Keep going.”
She didn’t know if she believed him. But as he shifted away from her, tugging at her side, she went with him. Every muscle shook and ached as they started down from the peak, down the wet slope of the roof. When her foot slipped, Armand caught her.When her foot had nowhere to find purchase, he pressed his own thigh against the sole of her boot, supporting her.
They reached the dormer.
The window had broken, leaving its edges lined with shattered glass. Flames were devouring the attic inside.
“Keep crawling backward,” Armand said, shouting over the fire’s roar. “Stay with me.”
They moved together, his body sheltering hers as her knees hit the edge, her feet dangling into nothingness. She whimpered, and started to climb back up, but Armand gripped her waist, stopping her.
“The trellis is right below us,” he said, and she could tell he was making every effort to keep his voice comforting and level. “It’s going to feel a little scary, but you can reach it, I promise.” His mouth pressed into the back of her hair. “Put your hand over here. I will not let you fall.”
She let him guide her hand to a gargoyle that jutted out from the gutter. She didn’t think it would bear her weight, and yet it did.
Armand scooted back. “I’m touching the trellis. Keep coming back, just a little farther.”
Her skirt dragged against the tiles as she scooted down, her feet flailing for purchase.
“That’s it. You’re almost—”
Wood splintered. Iron screeched.
Armand cried out.
He could have grabbed her as the trellis crumbled beneath him, grabbed her and pulled her down with him—but he didn’t.
“Armand!” His name was whipped away on the burning wind.The roof tiles loosened and Mallory nearly lost her grip, her body swinging off the roof, dangling by one desperate handhold.
She looked down.
Armand was in a heap, three stories below.
Not moving.
“Armand!”With a desperate sob, she threw up her other hand to grab the gargoyle, her feet clambering against the side of the wall. She was losing strength, her feet flailing, the ground a million miles away. And Armand… Armand was…
“And now, Miss Fontaine?” came Bastien’s voice, seething through the mouth of the gargoyle. Its stone eyes glowed like spectral gems. “End the spell. Free me from this prison, and I will save you.”
“No!” She slammed her eyes shut, tears leaking from beneath her eyelids.
