Page 75 of Acolyte (Tempris #2)

With their paper-white skin and bat-like wings, those cranky bastards were already unsettling. If they’d been turned into shades, however… Skye shuddered. That was something he didn’t even want to imagine.

“The palace is just ahead,” Vaughn called to the group. He was still atop his horse, and the flames from the nearby pyre glinted in those yellow eyes. “As far as I can tell, the area is clear, and if memory serves, the stables should still be intact. We can make camp there.”

There was a chorus of grumbled agreement, and then they were moving forward again.

The last of the sunlight began to fade, and Skye channeled more aether into his eyes, blinking as the darkness of the surrounding forest bled away.

He could already hear the rapids that flowed beneath the palace roaring in the distance, and as they drew nearer to the main gate, they had to slow the horses as the terrain flowed from dirt and moss-covered roots to broken pavement.

Infinity’s Edge loomed in the distance, a behemoth of a building that, even in its current state of neglect, still managed to outshine any of the palaces in Arylaan.

The spires, though crumbling, still stretched towards the sky, and the veins of golden crystal that swept through the white marble stone glittered in the moonlight.

Despite the fighting that had taken place shortly after the Schism, the palace had been treated with surprising gentleness, and most of the destruction had been contained to the area just outside the fence line.

“The ground has been disturbed,” Kato murmured as the horses carefully picked their way through the scraps of armor and refuse littered along the black iron fence. “And I don’t think this was Aiden. The destruction is too widespread, even for an earth mage.”

The old cobbled drive was cracked and overgrown, and there were several old Mechanica suits lying in pieces around the main gate. The helmets had been crushed, the torsos dented. For some, the brightly colored metal was so twisted and bent, it was no more than a tangle of scrap and wiring.

And all around, the ground was littered with shards of crystal. Hyaline , Skye realized. The closest relay tower—what used to be a shining colossus that dwarfed everything around it—was now a jagged pillar of cracked stone jutting from the earth.

That was recent , he thought, shivering. He couldn’t even begin to imagine the force it would’ve taken to bring down one of those towers.

The stables were on the northeastern side of the palace grounds, and Skye kept his hand on his sword as they skirted around the edge of the property, cataloging each building, each trail.

The gardens were overgrown, but he could still pick out what had once been rolling lawns with winding walks bordered by long rows of evergreens and colorful exotic flowers.

Everything around him had an aura of abandonment, of hushed despair.

And though he had never believed in ghosts—not in the way that Taly did, though he was more inclined to now after those little blue bastards had terrorized him down in the tunnels—he couldn’t deny that this place felt haunted.

Like there was something here, watching from the shadows.

As Vaughn had predicted, the stables were intact, and they began the process of cooling the horses and setting up camp.

“I’m going to go scout the area,” Skye said to Kato as they both stood to the side, watching Asher and Carin building a fire beneath a hole in the stable roof. “There are too many places to hide inside the palace, and I’d feel better if the main entrances were warded.”

Kato gave him a look that said: Do you really expect me to believe that?

To which, Skye just shrugged, meeting his gaze and refusing to back down. He could feel the tug of that thread more clearly now, and if Taly was anywhere nearby, he didn’t want to wait until tomorrow morning to find out. He wanted to know tonight.

Plus, this would be the easiest time to break away from the group. When they were tired and less inclined to question his motives.

Kato sighed. “Don’t go outside the fence line. It’s not much, but it does give us some protection from the forest beasts.”

Skye frowned at what almost seemed like genuine concern. “Why are you really here, Kato?”

Kato’s brows rose, but Skye didn’t back down. He hadn’t asked the question out of malice—just curiosity. His brother had always been a capricious, sometimes hateful presence in his life, and yet now he had somehow become his most ardent defender. Now he suddenly cared.

It didn’t make sense.

Kato was the first to look away, stuffing his hands in his coat pockets. “I already told you—you look so pathetic, I’d rather let a shade take a bite out of me than have to watch you piss and moan about your lost love for even a second longer than I have to.

“Now go,” he muttered with a jerk of his chin. “I’ll make something up to tell the others since we both know there’s no point warding an empty kitchen.”

With a final glance at the stable and their makeshift shelter, Skye gave his brother one last look before making his way towards the palace.

Skye followed the tug of that invisible thread inside the palace, walking from room to room, hallway to hallway.

There was no smell of rot here; no sign of anything more dangerous than dust and cobwebs.

And when the paintings began to repeat, and he realized that thread had just led him in a circle, he stopped, crouching in the middle of what used to be the throne room.

The black-and-white marble tile was cracked, and the long rows of windows that lined either side of the massive hall were coated with slithering, leafless stems so thick, they had become little more than a dense mat of foliage that gobbled up even the faintest trace of moonlight.

Atop a large dais, the throne loomed at the farthest end of the hall. Crystal roses were ensconced between coils of gold and silver, and every swirl, every petal, had been obscured by a thick layer of dust.

“Alright,” Skye said, shivering at the way the empty hall seemed to absorb the sound of his voice. He pulled a small flask from his pocket and frowned.

Aiden had collected several samples of Taly’s blood while she was recovering from the harpy, but the healer had used most of it up during his own search. There were only a few drops left now—barely enough to cast a single spell.

He would only get one shot at this.

Holding his breath, Skye tipped the vial and let those few precious drops drip, drip, drip onto the tile. He bit the flesh between his forefinger and thumb and let his own blood mingle with hers.

Where and when, he thought, and that part still made him nervous.

In his dream, Taly had said that when had become an issue, but this spell was supposed to account for that.

There were breaks in the veil between worlds all over Tempris.

It would just be an issue of figuring out which one she had fallen through.

Skye began to pull at his aether, shaping the spell in a way that felt so unlike anything he had ever cast before. It twisted his magic, made his heart flutter. It felt wrong .

You’re just not used to casting this way, he tried telling himself even as the sweat began to bead on his brow. Even as his aether recoiled, seizing in his veins. Bloodcraft is an extension of your magic. Just another application. You can control it.

Slowly, slowly , he felt another presence curl through his thoughts, wrapping around his bones and tugging at that bond.

And he did his best not to panic as the pool of blood spreading across the floor began to undulate and roil, peeling away from the tile and rising into the air, glowing a faint red.

The light pulsed. And flickered. His own magic glimmered beneath the smooth, milky surface—violet pinpricks of light inside a sea of blood.

Cautiously, Skye plucked at the molten orb, shaping it with sure, quick motions. He kept an image in his mind, something that reminded him of the person he wanted to find.

When he was done, the tiny animal rolled over, shook itself, and then stared up at him with eyes that looked like little purple jewels.

A rabbit—perfectly formed. A miniature version of the animal Taly hadn’t been able to bring herself to kill.

After he had brought the little beast home, Eliza and the rest of the kitchen staff had adopted it, claiming for themselves that final link to Taly.

The plump little monster now lived inside the townhouse kitchen with its own little bed and its own little collar and its own little bowl emblazoned with the name: Marshmallow .

Skye sighed. The things that he did for that woman… He really did have it bad.

The rabbit shook its head, throwing off a spray of blood that evaporated mid-air. The bell at its neck tinkled, and it twitched its nose, almost annoyed that it had been made to wait.

Clearing his throat, Skye said, with purpose, “Find your donor.” The words were carefully crafted, taken from a list of commands. Simulacrums could only follow a limited set of orders, and the slightest mistake, the smallest blip in pronunciation, could burn away the aether powering the spell.

Shards, he hoped he didn’t mess this up.

The little rabbit gave another shake of its head. It still floated mid-air, and as it began to hop away, it left tiny footprints that slowly faded and disappeared, washed away by some invisible force.

Something groaned from deep within the palace, and Skye paused, letting his hand drop to one of the pistols at his waist as he turned in a circle.

His nostrils flared as he scented the air, and he blinked, channeling a bit more aether and watching as the shadows turned just a little brighter.

But there was nothing out of place.

It’s probably just the wind, he told himself, though it did little to banish the trickle of dread that had managed to push its way in .

Still, there was no going back now. Chanting a silent prayer to anyone that might be listening, Skye followed the simulacrum deeper into the palace.

The palace was a twisting labyrinth of marble and gold hallways, and Skye’s heart began to beat just a little faster as the simulacrum led him not up, not out, not into the forest—but down .

Down and down and down . Until the air turned musty and the sound of running water began to pound against the walls.

Down and down and down . Until he knew that he was underground.

How far, he couldn’t be sure. The wide hallways lined with mirrors and tapestries and paintings had given way to tight corridors made from rough-hewn rock.

This was likely some sort of old tunnel system built so that in the event of an attack, the Crystal Guard would be able to smuggle the Time Shard to safety.

The scent of aether began to permeate the air, faint at first but growing stronger the farther he descended. It stung his nose and made his skin feel clammy. It even began collecting on the backs of his hands, shimmering like someone had soaked him with violet paint.

A light shone up ahead. After what felt like hours of walking in darkness with only the glitter of aether and the dim glow of that tiny rabbit to show the way, the blazing halo was almost blinding.

At last, Skye stepped through the arched doorway, and he felt his breath catch as he glimpsed the room beyond.

The chamber was round, with high ceilings and crisscrossing bridges, each one terminating in a carved, stone doorway identical to the one in which he stood.

Below him, the ground dropped away, disappearing into infinity.

There were no lamps or torches, only a ridge set into the wall that glowed with a soft, unwavering golden light.

And in the center of the room, elevated on its own platform—

Skye’s eyes went wide, and he took a step into the room, holding tightly to the railing and trying not to think about that steep drop. Even with a shadow mage’s senses, he couldn’t discern the bottom.

It was smaller than any he’d seen on the island, and the control panel looked strange, flickering with a set of runes he didn’t recognize. But there was no mistaking those smooth, flat planes of crystal.

Skye took another step, dazed. Because there in the center of this strange cavern, surrounded by columns of violet and gold-crystal stood—

“A gate.”

But not just that.

Shards, not just that.

Between the two pillars of hyaline flanking the portal stood a room lined with giant screens and flickering control panels and long tables stacked with tools and papers and crystals.

It was a room . With doors and windows that showed a land of rolling hills and colorful gardens and impossibly blue skies .

Not underground. Not a cavern.

The gate was open.

And that little rabbit that had become Skye’s lifeline in the dark continued to hop ahead of him, across the bridge and up the steps of the dais.

As it approached that shimmering wall of magic, it paused, looking over its shoulder and twitching its nose before disappearing through the portal.