Page 75 of Hallowed Games
In the depths of my chest, the Serpent whispered to me: Don’t you want another taste? Drink from the death of someone truly powerful.
My magic thrummed beneath my skin. Without the Pater, the Order would be in chaos.
End it all now. The rattling whisper of the Serpent rang in my skull.
If I caused enough chaos by killing the Pater, would the others be able to hide in the tunnels? Either way, this was bigger than just us now. This was all of Eboria, a teeming and ancient city. A free city.
The Pater’s cold gaze slid to me. “Your son was marked by the Order, yes?”
I could hardly hear over the roar of my blood. A red-hot current of rage had my legs shaking. I breathed slowly, making sure my voice wouldn’t shake when I answered. “Who?”
“Your son. The boy.”
“I have no son.” Just like the Baron had taught me, I stared down at my gloved fingers as though I were inspecting for dust. I wore a mask of boredom. “I have no family at all.” I sighed, glancing at him. “Someone gave you bad information.”
The Pater’s mouth twitched. “Your ward, then. Marked by the Order. Shall we bring him here, see how he’ll do in the trials?”
My heart thundered. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” The best way to keep the shake out of a voice was to make it go deeper, husky.
How had he suddenly learned about Leo? My gaze flicked to Sion. He’d seen him, hadn’t he? They day of the witch-finding.
The Pater stared at us, unmoving. “Let’s find the boy.”
Red-hot wrath spilled through me.
The Pater must die.
CHAPTER 34
I stared at the Pater, envisioning exactly how amazing it would feel to kill him.
But after his threats about Leo, he’d already seemed to lose interest.
A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “My Penitents, my work with you is not yet finished. Through the destruction and utter degradation of the Serpent’s soldiers, the evil one despairs in his defeat. I want the Serpent to feel his loss through your misery. If his evil lives among us, I want him to know my boot is on his neck.”
I lifted my hand, my heart racing wildly. Slowly, subtly, I started tugging on the fingers, loosening the glove on my right hand. Sion’s eyes looked half-lidded as he stared into the torchlight. Sleepy, unbothered.
The Pater closed his eyes and held out his hands to the heavens. “Deus Invictus, Archon Magne. In the light of our glory, Merthyn grows strong.”
I pulled off the glove, and it slid off my wrist—
The reaction was instant. From nowhere, Sion’s hand was clenched around my throat, choking me. Lifting me in the air, his fingers crushed my windpipe. “You forget yourself, witch. Your gloves must always remain on.” He dropped me to the ground in a heap, and he stared down at me. “Scatterbrained, aren’t you?”
I touched my throat, feeling the tender muscle. I rasped for breath.
Sion glanced back to the Pater. “What are we waiting for? Let’s leave the rats to die down here.” He glanced back at me, eyes sparking gold in the torchlight. “You’re all alone down here. In normal times, only a dozen ragged and bloodied witches return from here. But today? I can’t promise it will be that easy.”
He turned, ushering the Pater out of the room to safety.
My mind was a raging storm. The Order would keep trying to take down Eboria until they succeeded. Either the great northern city would give up their independence or they’d starve to death after a long siege. The Pater might lament his own childhood of eating soil, but he had no problem imposing the same fate on others.
Slowly, I stood, dusting myself off.
“What the hell was that?” whispered Percival.
I touched my throat, wincing. “The best chance I had at killing him. They’re going to invade Eboria, the last refuge. All I need to do is get close enough to stop him.”
Godric stared at me. “You’re lucky the Magister didn’t kill you.”