Page 235 of Eternal Ruin
A law must always be bound to a circumstance.
A house law cannot be changed without being broken.
Not once shifting her icy glare from the dean, Kidan spoke. “If I clap my hands, the mask artifact in this house will appear before me.”
The new law wrote itself on her palm.
Then, for the second time, Kidan broke a law.
She clapped her hands.
A sudden and complete darkness descended on her, making the dean and the Sicions fade. Kidan gasped, looking around at the vast emptiness.
Then something hard and ancient settled in her hands, glowing with a dazzlinglight. She squinted her eyes, trying to adjust to the pocket of the sun that made her palms buzz.
The mask artifact was carved of rich brown wood, the whirling designs of gold and white shimmering around its eyes. Kidan had touched many artifacts and objects over the years, but none had ever felt crafted for her hands. The smooth edge of the surface was like water, the cut precise and elegant.
The goddess portrait in Yos’s artifact room flashed before her eyes. This mask was its exact replica except for one thing. The goddess’s mask had a crack to it.
That hum returned, the one she heard from the Lasi bowl, a woman singing. But there was no amalgamation of symbols here. While the bowl felt ancient and otherworldly, the mask felt familiar.
Kidan’s finger pulsed as she imagined the crack going from its forehead to the straight nose. She could almost see it, her eyes shining.
The mask was beautiful whole, yes, but it would be extraordinary if it broke.
The strange thought called to her, to apply pressure and see what would happen. Kidan’s fingers grabbed both edges and pressed downward, expecting ironlike resistance. Samson had tried fire, earth, and brute strength to break these treasures and had failed at every turn.
What are you doing?
Kidan didn’t know, but her hands did. They always communicated what her mind could never understand, always speaking a language of their own, acting without her permission.
Circle. Square. Triangle.
Break.
A writing began to appear along the bridge of the nose, and she squinted trying to read. There was something important here.
Professor Andreyas snatched the object out of her hands. Just as the message moved toward her palms—
“No!”
After all she had gone through to get that mask, it boiled her blood to surrender it so easily. She half thought of snatching it from the cold professor’s hand, because she could have sworn something had happened. The mask was speaking to her. As if she could break it.
Kidan’s heart skipped a beat, wondering if she was imagining it. She stared ather palms. Was it the house? Her armor? Had the answer to breaking the artifacts been… her?
Impossible.
The professor didn’t shift his unnerving gaze. The dean and the Sicions began to walk out, but he lingered. In a slash of movement, he was before Kidan, grabbing her jaw. His eyes were cut of a timeless mahogany tree.
“Are you here?” he asked.
Her entire neck could hardly move though he’d only grabbed her chin. She’d always suspected the professor was stronger than most vampires, but she knew it now. His strength was unbending, complete.
She strained to move her lips. “What… are… you… talking… about?”
“Andreyas,” the dean called, a frown in her tone.
The professor moved back, adjusted his sleeves, and walked away with one last lingering look, his braided hair swaying.
