Page 96 of Mortal Things

At the same time, I feel the call of him deep in my chest.

Rose.

The pull of him is too strong for me to ignore, and I cry out at the burst of energy in me.

Claim him.

I am too weak to resist Raven’s command. My limbs move independently of my free will—I can feel myself being compelled to do Raven’s bidding, know that I am suddenly leaping forward and running in their direction. The soul in my chest coils tight, shudders, then lashes out, hunting for Silk.

But the instant I reach him, he disappears. The atrium ripples, then transforms. What was once a cracked marble floor now changes into a forest floor littered with dead and decaying leaves. The walls and stairs vanish, and an illusion of trees takes their place, their dark limbs weaving together into a gnarled web, black leaves closing us within their widening canopy.

Silk reappears a dozen steps to my side. When I turn to face him, he gives me a grim smile. “You are the first light,” he tells me. “You are more powerful than any god, if you can only listen to it.”

Claim him.

But all I can hear in my mind is the ceaseless order from Raven, a command that drowns out everything else, coaxing me forward with its deep, resonating echo. It pulls me from the core of my body, and even the mere thought of going against it sends a shock of pain through my chest.

“I can’t,” I tell him hoarsely.

“You can,” he snaps back, gaze fixed on mine. “You can, Rose. I have seen your heart. I know what you are capable of.”

I grit my teeth, squeeze my eyes shut, and search within myself for the first light. And as I do, I feel all the pain and grief of my past swirl around me. Where were you? I want to scream at myself, at this hidden power supposedly buried within me. Where were you when I was left alone? When I needed help? Where were you when I needed to be saved?

At the sound of footsteps against the forest floor, I open my eyes to see Raven striding toward me. The pull in my core grows stronger, clouding my mind. I shudder, wanting in vain to shrink back from his advance, but he fills my thoughts like a fog, and again, I feel that overwhelming sense of wanting to be near him, to be with him, to serve him. Of wanting him to control me in return, to approve of me. To love me.

A shadow moves before me, and suddenly there is a solid figure standing between us. Silk. His eyes are locked on Raven.

“You fear her,” he says.

“She is my Regent, not yours,” Raven answers.

Silk bares his teeth in a snarl. “She belongs to no one.”

The forest around us shudders, cracks racing up the trunks of the trees nearest us. The way they crumble does not resemble bark in any way, but stone. It is an abrupt reminder that everything around us is an illusion, that in actuality, we are still inside the atrium.

Raven spreads both hands—and the air darkens until it plunges us into blackness. For an instant, I can’t see at all. Shadows dash through the veil, wisps that solidify and then break apart, light particles consumed by absence and chaos.

An icy blast of wind hits me. I stagger backward. The darkness sharpens for an instant, and through it, I think I glimpse Raven hurtling into the figure of Silk, the two of them vanishing, then reappearing several steps away. Silk’s arm slices through the air, and illusions shimmer in the wake of his movement—swarms of a thousand glowing insects, crimson and blinding, leaving streaks through the night, setting the forest ablaze wherever they land. They gather around Raven, leaving flames against his skin.

Raven growls and snaps his fingers—the fire and insects disintegrate into ash at his command, death overpowering illusion.

Silk rushes at him with a pair of gleaming daggers in hand. The blades slash through Raven’s loose sleeves. This, too, is an illusion, because I blink and look again and the slashes are gone—but Silk attacks again, aiming this time for Raven’s chest.

I suddenly realize why Silk is attacking him with illusions. If he can make Raven believe the illusion, the lie becomes real.

The thought of him killing Raven sends a shock through my chest. It is my link, our eternal bond—and through it I feel a jolt of panic for him, a frantic desire to keep him alive.

“Étienne—don’t!” I shout, rushing forward.

At my voice, Silk glances briefly at me. As he does, Raven’s hand seizes him by the throat.

Silk winces, his bravado wavering for a moment as Raven pulls his soul forward, twisting it in a way that makes the young god let out a pained snarl. Sparks of light crackle in the swirling darkness as his back hits the ground hard, illusions flaring to life around him and then instantly flickering out. Raven is trying to claim his soul. He is ripping it, stretching it until it starts to break, sucking out its essence, weakening Silk’s strength even as he calls me forward.

Rose, his voice snaps in my mind, deep and resonant. His dark, endless eyes turn up to meet mine. Do it.

I clench my fists so hard that my nails pierce the skin of my palms. A knot in my chest builds, threatening to break. I see Étienne as a mortal boy, scrabbling on the ground, and remember his smile, his wink, the way he holds his hand out at me. The feverish look in his eyes in that alley. The way he’d touch my face with his hands, the feeling of his lips on mine.

Now his skin is turning ashen, his gaze hollowing as he turns to look at me, sees me approaching him, knows my patron god is beckoning me forward.