7. Seven

Seven

The door creaked slightly as I snuck back into my room, leaving Quillon tangled in his red silk sheets. Hopefully, it was early enough that the rest of the city was still sleeping, too. Felix and Shael cuddled in my bed. Shael was the little spoon.

I smiled as I crossed to my closet. Cyrus watched me from the armchair by the window.

“Good, you’re awake,” I whispered. “I need to go to the city crypt, and I assume you won’t let me go without a chaperone?”

Cyrus stood and positioned himself at the door to my closet. “You assume correctly.”

I shut the door most of the way and began dressing in my normal clothes. A black shirt, leggings and boots. But I topped it off with a pure white cloak. It pooled on the ground at my feet.

I reached out and grabbed a fistful of Cyrus’s shirt, pulling him inside. My closet was huge, larger than my bedroom in Haven, but with Cyrus in there with me, it suddenly felt cramped.

“Usually, I’d go in the middle of the night, but it should still be early enough.” I tapped my bottom lip and inspected Cyrus.

A black linen shirt covered his broad shoulders, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Blocky black runes lined his forearms. His light blond hair was carefully cut and styled, revealing the engraved silver caps of his pointed ears.

“Though if you’re coming along, we’ll have to disguise you,” I said. “You’re way too conspicuous.”

Cyrus scoffed.

“What?” I searched through my cloaks, but none of them would be big enough for him. “You’re like a walking Greek statue. You don’t exactly blend in.”

I paused as Cyrus’s sunny aura caressed my back. He was pleased. I couldn’t have that.

“That wasn’t meant as a compliment by the way.” I turned to him, and sure enough, he wore the slightest smug smirk. “It’s super annoying.You tower over everyone all high, mighty and muscly.” The corner of his mouth rose further. “I’m going to stop talking now.”

I returned my attention to his disguise. How did one hide a seven-foot-tall mountain of muscle?

“I haven’t been able to put glamours on others yet, so that’s out.”

There had to be something in here that would work. My gaze landed on the corner of the closet where the towels and bed linens filled a shelf. I grinned.

“Stop fidgeting,” I said as Cyrus and I walked along the canals of Qaanir. It was still dark, though it wouldn’t be long before the first morning rays scattered on the thick blanket of fog hanging between the tall brick buildings. “Ghosts don’t fidget.”

Cyrus pulled the white sheet back until his blue eyes appeared in the crudely cut eye holes. “I can’t see anything.”

He looked ridiculous, but the whole “sheet ghost” thing was still super scary in Qaanir.

“You don’t need to. Here.” I grabbed his hand, prying it from his death grip on the sheet, and pulled him along after me. His hand was callused and swallowed mine, but his touch was gentle.

My elemental magic filled the air as I bent the fog around us, concealing us further from the eyes of any early risers. Luckily, it was a short walk from the palace to the city’s mausoleum.

We reached the platform, and I led Cyrus to the tall stone building. It looked like a gothic church. The spire reached high into the clouds and weathered gargoyles glowered down at us. Luckily for us, they were just carvings, not the demons they depicted.

Ari stood at the gate. He dropped his invisibility glamour as we approached, though the fog still obscured him. He’d accompanied me every night I’d gone to the mausoleum since the battle for the well, just as he’d accompanied me to the hunter compounds. I’d thought he was only hanging around me for my witty jokes, but now I knew the truth. He was protecting me from the corruption. Staying within arm’s reach in case I lost control again.

Cyrus pushed past us to the gate and pulled out a marker. He drew short, blocky lines on the lock. The rune itself was relatively simple now that I had some experience with rune magic. A square with meandering angles woven through it. It flashed with golden light before the lock clicked open. The gate opened with a hearty creak, and Cyrus gestured to the dark entrance.

“Thanks,” I fished my skeleton key out of my pocket and dangled it in front of him as I passed, “but I did have the key.”

Cyrus stepped into the shadow of the mausoleum and pulled the sheet from his head. “How did you get a skeleton key to the city?”

“I stole it from Quillon a few weeks ago. Found it in a warded lockbox hidden in the fireplace of his secret study.” I shrugged. “He practically gave it to me.”

Cyrus sighed and activated the light rune on his chest, illuminating the narrow hallway. “I guess I should just be glad you’re not using your skills for evil. You’d make a proficient thief.”

I splayed my hand on my chest. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Every inch of stone inside the mausoleum was carved with reliefs. Stories of life and death, of Ancients and reapers covered the columns, walls, floor, and ceiling. I’d never seen them in the light like this before. But I didn’t have time to gaze open-mouthed at the art.

I continued down the hall until it opened into a circular room. The conical ceiling stretched high into the sky, the stone engraved with more scenes. There were no windows here. Only stone and darkness. Unlit candles filled alcoves in the walls alongside offerings for the dead and bowls of saltwater.

Half a dozen stone slabs ringed the room. Three of them held bodies draped in white linen. All daeva.

I walked to the first one. My cloak slid across the floor behind me. I held my hand over the body and called to her mana. The purple cloud funneled into my hand. It wasn’t much, and neither was the next.

“What does it feel like?” Cyrus’s voice was soft beside me.

“I don’t know how to describe it,” I said, walking to the last slab. “It feels natural. Like I’m ... meant to do this.”

I held out my hands. This one was far more powerful. Their mana formed a thick cloud around their body as it slowly seeped from their flesh. When I dropped my barriers and called it to me, the mana responded quickly. My corruption writhed and boiled, responding to the fresh mana … consuming it. We didn’t have much time. We had to teleport soon.

When I finished, my veins glowed with faint silver light. I caught Cyrus looking and dropped my hands, bringing them back under my cloak.

Gold coins, silk flowers and a fine sword lay on the slab beside the body. This one was Daevasi.

Ari stalked closer, coming to my other side.

“I guess it doesn’t really matter how much power or money they have in this world. They all end up in the same place when they die.”

“Our bodies are returned to the water.” Ari’s voice echoed against the carved stone. “Our mana and souls are returned to the Aether.”

“That’s the way it should be.” I gazed up at the ceiling, stretching high above us. Shimmering orbs filled the conical space, floating through the air, gently bobbing on an ethereal breeze in the still air. “But not now.”

“No.”

I inspected Ari out of the corner of my eye. He was gazing up, where the souls gathered, though he wouldn’t be able to see them like I could. Had his soul floated like that when he’d died? Had he been laid on a slab like these? I knew he’d gone on a rampage and been executed a thousand years ago, but I didn’t know where. Perhaps he’d been laid here in Qaanir when he’d died.

“This should be enough to get us all to Earth.” I turned on my heel and pulled my hood low over my face.