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We were looking into Duncan’s room. Back in Imeria.

A keening cry rose up in my throat, but couldn’t get past the lump of dread there. Behind Cassial lay two bloodied, torn gryvern bodies. Maren and Gregory – dead – just as Erix had told me. He must’ve sensed their murder through their connection, which caused his reaction. The pain he felt inside had been theirs.

My eyes finally swept away from the corpses to the man kneeling, head bowed, at Cassial’s feet.

“Duncan,” I exhaled, an agony unlike anything I’d felt before threading up through every inch of my body.

Cassial’s meaty fingers tangled in the length of his dark hair, lifting it up until everyone watching could see his face. There was no denying it was him, and yet I couldn’t bring myself to care for my friends’ reactions, how they would view me now my greatest lie had been revealed.

For the first time, I wanted Duncan to be the very thing I had feared him for.

Dangerous.

“Robin, Robin, Robin.” Cassial beamed with pride, his bright eyes glittering with the hunger of a starved man. “What a deceptive little creature you are, harbouring such a threat behind your walls.”

“No,” I gasped, hoisted to my feet by uncaring hands. “I was protecting–”

“Lying now will not get you out of this one,” Cassial interrupted. “The damage is very clearlydone.”

Then why did he look so pleased? Why did Cassial look like a man who’d just won a game I didn’t know I was playing?

“My followers,” Cassial shouted, and every Nephilim in the room shifted. “Allow the humans to leave, get them away from this danger the fey have brought to our door once again.”

Watching from beyond the mirror, the doors were thrown open, allowing humans to escape from the perfect picture of danger that Cassial was painting.

And yet he was the one with dark blood – gryvern blood – splattered across his armour, dead bodies littered on the floor behind him.

Once the last human escaped beyond the church, the doors were closed once again, the Nephilim returning to their places, weapons held ready.

“Poor humans, what a terrible shock you have put them through,” Cassial said, beaming, hands still tugging carelessly at Duncan’s head. “Between me and you, I had my own plans to free Duwar today, until I discovered that task was already completed for me. Imagine my relief that you, Robin Icethorn, have been harbouring the power required to fix the unbalance of this world. I should thank you, truly. The effort you have saved me is great. For that, granted you act responsibly, you will be rewarded.”

Maybe it was the lack of humans watching me, or the knowledge that Duncan in danger, but I found the energy to act.

My body moved without aid of my mind. Drawing on training and skill, I slipped out of the hands quickly, spinning around and snatching a short blade from the sheath at Zarrel’s waist.

This was what Erix had trained me for, relying on my body instead of my power.

I swung the short blade like a mad man, attempting to carve a space out between me and the betrayal suffocating me. Erix tried to fight free too, but the more he squirmed, the more Nephilim came to assist with him being held down. It took little effort to splay him on the floor, positioning his body face down. Those Nephilim who didn’t pin him to the ground held his wings at an angle, proving that one tug would rip them free.

“Choose your next action wisely,” Zarrel warned, so close to me that I felt his hot breath singe the skin on my ear. “Remember the treaty you signed. Think of all the innocent life outside this church, the humans who will be harmed in this crossfire if you make a move against us. Or, are we too late for that, considering what secret you’ve been keeping from us…”

My grip faltered enough for Zarrel to take the blade from my hand and return it confidently to his belt.

“Duncan Rackley,” Cassial said his name, command lacing his baritone voice. “Open the way for us to pass. We have a reunion to attend.”

Duncan’s verdant eyes were overwhelmed with the power of the parasite within him. He looked at me, through the mirror, as web-like cracks formed across its surface.

“I warned you,” Duncan – Duwar said, voice tinged with sadness that I couldn’t ignore. “Your hesitation has caused this, darling.”

Not a second after he used his nickname against me, glass shattered across the room, turning the mirror into a doorway. One which Cassial dragged Duncan through with ease, passing through time and space like it was nothing.

Heavy boots slammed against the ground, whilst Duncan’s knees were dragged over broken blades of glass. Cassial didn’t care for the vessel, only what lurked inside. But I didn’t understand. Duwar was the Creator’s enemy – the opposing power to the Nephilim’s master. If anything, they should want to destroy it, once and for all.

“Duwar is a demon,” I spat. “Duwar’s very presence goes against everything you live for. Every lie you accuse me of has only ever been given whilst I found a way to solve this problem.”

“Lies on both accounts,” Cassial replied, followed by a deep belly laugh. “Although I admit, the first has been spread by us for generations. Duwar being a demon, crafting that very perspective to further our own plans. I am confident you have many questions. So, sit and listen. I will do you the honour of explaining ourselves.”

My mind was frantic, but I knew what Duncan’s fate would be in the hands of the Nephilim.