Page 13 of Rose and Shadows
Before I could get another word out, I was choking as a surge of that acrid black magic taste took me over, power swelling in our vicinity.
I looked to see that through our heavy conversation, I hadn’t noticed that we’d reached the entry point to access our elusive contact.
I saw Remnant watching me closely—too closely—as I spat on the beach, trying to expel it. Why was he studying my reaction to it? He already knew I’d been infected. Morien had spelled that out earlier during our battle. Hell, it was why Remnant had brought me here to this place.
Black power enveloped us and we found ourselves in a void.
Then in a flash of magic, the one we’d ventured here to see came into view.
As his straggly white hair flicked in the magically-induced wind, most of it contained by his hooded studded cloak, his white eyes fixed on me. “Twice in merely a day, Sylas. I’m honored,” he greeted me drily. His gaze flicked to Remnant and he jolted. “You bring a very different companion this time.”
“Ibroughthim,” Remnant corrected him, rather pointedly.
“Ah,” Ambrose said, giving a slow nod. “You’ve come to collect that favor I owe you.”
“One of them,” Remnant rumbled.
Ambrose held up his hand. “All right, yes. I know I owe you three. My apologies, I assumed you’d come together due to the Morien Morgrave situation—you both have dogs in that fight.”
“You felt him using Risen Reckoning earlier?” I asked.
He grimaced. “Yes. A highly corrupted version of it.”
“He also afflicted Sylas with black magic. A great deal of it,” Remnant spoke.
Ambrose drew in a sharp breath. “No.” He addressed me. “Having you ruined by black magic can’t be allowed. You’re vital.” His gaze flicked to Remnant briefly. “In many ways.”
“Many ways? Beyond taking down Morien?” I asked. “Is that what you’re—”
“Assess him,” Remnant cut in.
Before I could get a word out, he stepped up close to Ambrose. “He reacted with distaste to your surge of power moments ago, even spat out the taste.”
Ambrose looked shocked once again.
With everything he’d seen over his many years as a black magic powerhouse and the only person ever not to be corrupted by it, that was absolutely saying something.
A smile spread over his face and then he stepped to me and grasped my arms.
I flinched and pulled away.
What the—
That reaction had just been automatic. I hadn’t intended to do that.
With dying, being bound, enduring that transplant, then being attacked by my father and his despicable magic touching me, I guess I was a little jumpy.
Being touched… it wasn’t sitting well with me right now.
I saw concern spark in Remnant’s eyes and he lifted his chin at Ambrose, silently communicating something to him.
In the next moment, Ambrose stepped back then upturned his palms, his literal black magic shimmering in controlled flames.
He swept it around me without actually making physical contact.
I just felt the unsettling pins and needles sensation very slightly whispering over any exposed skin, like my face, hands, and neck.
“Hmm… you were right with your suspicion,” he told Remnant. His lips lifted. “Finally, it’s happened. I’m no longer the only one.”
