Page 81 of Hallowed Games

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Page 81 of Hallowed Games

Godric’s face blanched. “What do you think he’ll do next?”

“He’s going to kill us all.” I took a deep breath, picking up a stale piece of bread. “We have only two options: we find a way out, or we kill the Pater.”

“Or, of course, the third option, where we all die,” said Hugo.

I winced. “Let’s avoid that one. But the Pater won’t be easy to kill, and Sion is standing in the way.” Might as well let it all out now. “Look, Sion is a vampire, too. But he’s committed to the Order. Maelor said he’s unfailingly loyal to his cause—or something like that. So he won’t help us.”

“But…why?” asked Hugo. “Is he a true believer?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “But I think he’s here because he’s a sadist and enjoys death.”

“What did Maelor say about killing the Pater?” asked Percival.

“Not to try it. That I’d be dead within moments. And maybe he’s right. It’s a last resort.” With a pang, I realized Maelor still wasn’t telling me much about the resistance.

Hugo stared at me. “What did it feel like when he drank your blood?”

Sazia’s mouth dropped open. “You did not let him…did you?”

“Never mind that,” I said sharply.

She chewed her bread thoughtfully. “Do you know what, darling? I saw a dead Luminarus with his throat torn out in the courtyard from my window. Drained of blood. Looked like something a vampire would do. Maybe he can kill all of them.”

My stomach swooped as dread fluttered through me. I’d never mourn a dead Luminarus, but was he losing his grip on his control? All those warnings Maelor had given me…he’d been perfectly restrained until I’d shown up.

I pushed those thoughts out of my mind. “Let’s think of a plan.” I glanced at Percival. “As far as I know, we’re the only ones left who have actual magic, right? And Lydia.”

Percival nodded. “I think so. If anyone else had useful magic, it probably would have come out during the last trial when I nearly murdered everyone.”

“You didn’t murder us. You saved us,” I said emphatically. “The wolves would have killed everyone.”

Godric frowned, his gaze flicking to Percival. “Your fire power…I know you can’t put a fire out if you start it, but do you think you could keep it at a steady temperature for a long time? A steady, very hot temperature?”

“Yes,” said Percival. “As long as I’m not completely panicking, I can also keep it from getting too big. It was just with the wolves—”

“No one blames you,” said Sazia. “We’re all fine. I mean, apart from that woman killed by the wolf.”

Godric and Hugo exchanged a look.

Hugo raised a finger. “You’re thinking of that forge near Sootfield, aren’t you?”

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

“It was a repair job we did as masons,” Godric said. “You know, troubadour life doesn’t pay all the bills. So with the right level of heat, over a long enough time—”

“You could make the walls swell and crack,” Hugo added. “It wouldn’t break them completely, but they’d be weakened. But it might take…well, it would take a very long time.”

Godric leaned back, folding his arms. “Intense heat in the right places can weaken a wall. If it’s done correctly, the stone expands and contracts. It will weaken the foundation. You’d need one of us to guide you, and it would take hours. You’d have to stress the stones at the right points. And we’d still need something to smash through it. A battering ram or something.”

I raised my hand. “There’s also a giant wooden door,” I said. “Might be easier to burn wood than try to melt rocks.”

Percival raised his eyebrows. “It all sounds like a good idea, but there’s also the issue of archers shooting us to death. They’re patrolling above every wall in Ruefield.”

“Excellent point,” I said.

Hugo raised his water glass. “There are catacombs beneath all of Ruefield. All sealed off. Ancient hymns to the ancestors, the earth’s quiet tombs…”

“They’re sealed off,” I repeated.




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