Chapter 4

Ursula flinched as someone touched her shoulder.

“It’s okay,” said a familiar voice. “But you look terrible.”

Ursula opened her eyes to find Kester crouching next to her, his handsome features creased with worry.

“I look terrible?” she repeated. “Charming as always.”

The cot’s rough fabric scratched her cheek, and she blinked, taking in her surroundings. Back in the cell. She tried to sit up, but dizziness whirled in her mind.

“What did he do to you?” An edge laced Kester’s tone.

“Slammed me with shadow magic. Then I fell into the void, tried to speak with Nyxobas, and ended up with Emerazel instead.”

“And what would you have to say to Nyxobas?” asked Kester.

Ursula pushed herself up onto her elbows, considering just how to bring up Abrax’s little “Kester killed your mum” story. While she was debating this, Kester looked back at her with a mix of confusion and worry. If he’d killed her mother, he certainly didn’t seem concerned about it now.

“I was actually trying to find out—” She bit her lip. She’d need to think about this before she launched into it. “Never mind. There’s more. He wanted to unite our souls or something and rule over mankind, but apparently my soul repulsed him.”

Kester’s lip curled. “Your soul repulsed him? That’s a bit of a personal insult, I’d say.”

“I’ve never been so happy to repulse someone. Speaking of which, what do you mean I look terrible?”

“Pale bags under your eyes, a bit like someone sucked the life out of you. Time for Starkey’s Conjuration Spell again, I think.”

Ursula winced, her body groaning with pain. “I’ve been getting a lot of use out of that one.”

She allowed her head to fall back on the scratchy cot as she incanted the spell. With the final word, a soothing magic filled her body, imbuing it with strength once more. Blinking, she sat up.

“Why Urusula, you look simply ravishing now.” A sly smile. “Did you know you have beautiful skin when you don’t look near death?”

“Are you really flirting with me right now?”

Kester shrugged. “I don’t see why not. We’re both alive. Things could be worse.”

Ursula leaned back on her hands. “I don’t understand why we’re both alive. Why didn’t Abrax kill me after he failed to get what he wanted?”

As she spoke, she studied Kester. If Abrax had been telling the truth, did Kester know? Had he put it all together, the way Bael might have?

Probably best to just lay it all out there and see how he responded. “Kester, Abrax said?—”

Just then, the door opened with a bang, and Abrax stood in the center, flanked by his usual pair of oneiroi guards.

Ursula rose, already summoning Emerazel’s fire.

“Which one of you told him?” Abrax shouted, his voice sharp with rage.

What now? “What are you talking about?”

“Hothgar. He’s demanded an audience. Someone told him you were here.”

“And you think it was us?” said Ursula, heat rising in her chest. “The two people who’ve been chained and imprisoned the whole time? There’s something very wrong with you, you know that?”

Abrax’s eyes narrowed. “No one else knows you’re here.”

“Last time I spoke to Hothgar, he told you to kill me. He wants me dead. Even if I’d managed to find my way out of here, Hothgar wouldn’t exactly be first on my list of people to visit.”

“Obviously you have a leak in your manor,” said Kester. “One of your guards, perhaps?”

“That is impossible.” Abrax’s icy voice echoed off the walls.

Ursula folded her arms, still a bit ticked off about the whole “manacle torture” thing. Not to mention the attempted soul-reaping. But she wasn’t wearing manacles now. One incubus—two guards. She may not get a better moment to fight back than this.

She cocked her head. “If the Sword of Nyxobas found out you’ve been keeping us imprisoned without his knowledge, you’ve got no one to blame but yourself. What is the punishment for disobeying his orders?”

With a roar of rage, Abrax lunged for Ursula. She dodged out of the way like a toreador evading a bull. As Abrax reached her, Ursula slammed into him, sending him sprawling to the floor.

Flames sprang from her hands as she leapt on Abrax. She pressed her palms to his chest, and he screamed as smoke rose from between her fingers.

As she seared Abrax’s chest with her fire, Kester lunged for the nearest oneiroi, catching him off guard. In a single motion, he drew the guard’s sword from its scabbard. In a blur of speed, he severed the guard’s head. Hot blood sprayed across the wall of the cell.

Under Ursula’s firm grip, Abrax writhed, until he vanished beneath her fingertips—only to reappear across the room in a swirling cloud of shadows. Ursula shouted a warning to Kester, but she was too late. Already, Abrax was sending strands of shadow magic twining around Kester’s ankles. He yanked them, and Kester slammed to the ground.

Ursula started to rush for him, but the remaining guard leveled his sword at her throat. The blade pressed against her skin, and the oneiroi’s large eyes gleamed, promising death if she moved. As she raised her hands, Abrax sent shadows snaking across the room, and they slid around her chest.

Abrax’s shirt was smoking where she’d burned him, but that didn’t stop him from kicking Kester hard in the gut.

Ursula tensed, waiting for Abrax’s attack. Instead, he beckoned her forward.

“You’re coming with me, little dog. Hothgar asked for you specifically.”

Ursula winced as she stepped over Kester’s prone body and into the hallway, but she knew a kick to the ribs wouldn’t keep Kester down for long. Still, she needed to find a way to get him out of here. Even if Abrax was snapping a fresh pair of glowing manacles to her wrists right now.

“This way,” said Abrax, and she begrudgingly followed him down the sleek-walled hallway.

As Ursula padded barefoot over the floor in her ragged gown, she couldn’t help but think of Bael. Once, Bael had been Nxyobas’s Sword, living for years in isolation. She had the feeling that he hadn’t let anyone in at all, for all those millennia—until he’d met her. Could he really have been involved in her mum’s death?

She didn’t have long to think about this, because the hallway opened up into Abrax’s stark atrium. This time, a cage-like elevator stood in the center. Ursula felt a pang of sadness as she saw that it was almost an exact replica of the one at Bael’s manor. She followed Abrax into the metal cage, avoiding getting anywhere near him. The door slammed closed.

Inside the elevator, the chain clanked and rattled as they rose toward the roof, passing by floor after floor of obsidian walls and doors. When she’d first come to Bael’s manor, she’d been terrified of him, and the surroundings hadn’t helped. The Bael she’d come to know over time seemed so different than the terrifying Sword of Nyxobas she’d first encountered, brooding on his dark throne. But he still held secrets he hadn’t revealed to her.

When they reached the roof, Ursula shivered as an icy lunar breeze slipped through the remains of her dress. Like in Bael’s manor, the view from the roof was magnificent. The great walls of the caldera curved thousands of feet above them, and the violet spire of Asta sparkled in the distance.

Abrax, of course, didn’t stop to admire the view, immediately striding toward a black carriage at the far end of the roof.

Footsteps clacked over the roof, and a new set of guards flanked her. She walked between them, following Abrax to the carriage. When they reached it, Abrax stopped to open the door. Ursula climbed inside, her chest tightening. Being in the Shadow Realm without Bael felt completely wrong. She shuddered as Abrax sat next to her and the oneiroi guard.

As they rose into the sky, Ursula got a final view of Abrax’s manor in all its glory, the gleaming glass and steel. But the hair on her arms prickled as she got a good look at the roof. Lurking in the shadows stood a large contingent of oneiroi—and behind them, at least five golems.