Page 82 of Acolyte (Tempris #2)

The center of the maze was nothing more than a wide circle of white stone flanked by marble benches and fountains that swirled and eddied, defying gravity and its laws.

Vaughn took a cautious step out of the shade of the hedges, letting his aether fan out across the area, searching for any more of those piss-poor excuses for traps.

When he found none, he straightened, turning his attention to the girl kneeling in the center of the circle.

Something that might have been pity tightened his chest. She looked as though she had been hollowed out, as if something vital had been drained away. Even the bright Highborn gray of her eyes seemed muted as she stared at him, making no move to run or fight as he continued his approach.

She thinks the boy is dead.

Good. He could use that to his advantage. Perhaps, if he made a show of giving him some sort of antidote or helped her “revive” him using her own powers, she’d come willingly.

His master wanted her willing.

“You killed him,” she whispered listlessly. The wind whipped at her hair, freeing a few wild strands from her coil of braids. “Why did you have to kill him?”

“All may not be lost, little mage,” Vaughn cooed gently.

His eyes darted around the clearing, and he took slow, cautious steps.

She had phased in the throne room, and even though he doubted she had the technical ability to replicate the spell, he wasn’t going to risk losing her again.

“Young Skylen made the mistake of fighting back. He took out two of my mages in cold blood, and then he pointed his sword at me. What else was I to do?”

The girl tilted her head. “Why did you have to kill him?” she repeated. “Why am I still here when he isn’t?”

“He might not be gone.” Vaughn was halfway to the center now. “There might still be some hope. Time mages have the power to revive the dead. I could show you how.”

Her eyes widened slightly, then dropped. She stared at her hands, as though she could find the answer there. After a moment, she shook her head. “I don’t believe you.”

Something pricked against his neck, like an insect bite, but he ignored it. “Come with me, Taly. Come willingly, and my master may even allow you to see your family. He may show them mercy.”

Taly rose to her feet, still staring at him blankly. “I’ll come with you,” she whispered, “if you answer one question.”

“Anything you want, little mage,” he said, still holding out his hand. He was so close. All he needed was a physical connection to dampen her magic, and then it would be easy to get her out of here, out of this place before the Queen could interfere.

Her lips twitched. “What’s in your pocket?”

Something else snapped against his skin. Then again. And again. Over and over in quick succession.

He realized too late that his legs had stopped responding. And when he tried to summon his aether and break free, his magic felt like sludge in his veins, vague and unresponsive.

The girl was smiling now, and that hollow look had been replaced with something cruel and deadly.

Panic edged in.

Still heaving at his aether, he began to thrash, launching every bit of raw strength he possessed at the coil of phantom chains that were starting to tighten around him.

No .

His arms were fixed in place.

No, no, no.

Even his lungs felt tight.

There were too many spells all bunching and tangling together, and the panic dulled his wits, making it hard to think. He couldn’t pick his way through the web. He couldn’t find his way out.

“ Bitch ,” he rasped. Even his vocal cords were starting to become stiff and unyielding.

The girl’s smile widened, the only warning she gave before her aether erupted in a bright flash of light. It gilded the stones, the plants, even the vibrant blue of the leaves. And then faded in an instant, leaving only a soft shimmer that coated her skin.

She took a step, then another, glowing like freshly forged steel.

He tried once more to throw off the magical bonds that chained him in place, letting out a low whine when he failed.

Something tightened—but not enough to ease the fear, to let in that darkness that came with being completely frozen in time.

He had been trapped in a time mage’s thrall before.

He knew that they could control pain and consciousness, playing with a man’s timeline like a child might play with a bit of string.

And if he could still see, still feel pain, it was only because she wanted him to see and feel.

She had left him his mind, left that small part of him outside the influence of her magic, because she wanted him to witness the punishment she had chosen.

The boy , he tried to say. The boy is safe. But he couldn’t make his mouth form the words that might’ve saved his life .

She stopped in front of him, still smiling through the glow of aether. “Let’s talk now, you and I?”

It was at that moment that Vaughn began to pray.

Taly circled the man, watching impassively as he tried to get free. His magic writhed, beating against her mind like a hammer and doing him very little good as the enchantment continued to creep up his body like frost on glass.

Her aether licked at her skin, content to finally be free. She could feel its giddiness, sparkling and effervescent, bubbling through her blood like champagne.

Soon this man would be dead. They would repay blood for blood.

Taly grinned as she completed another turn, still monitoring the spells.

She’d set a trap for this man, knowing just how much magic he commanded and just how little she could do against him in a fair fight.

Any individual spell she threw at him would’ve been easily rebuffed, so she’d decided to get a little more… creative.

Taly picked one of the time crystals he’d collected from his pocket and tossed it into the air.

She’d left thirty-five crystals, all poorly concealed with sloppily penned runes, the active spell still half-tethered to her own magic.

Novice work. And even though it had pained her to make such inaccurate representations of the runes she’d been practicing for months on end, to leave that nearly-imperceptible trickle of aether that would lead him straight to her—it had paid off.

Because Vaughn had picked up every crystal she’d dropped and disengaged the spells, never thinking to look for what was lurking underneath.

Taly tilted her head back, letting that glittering rage stretch and flow beneath her skin.

It had been difficult given the time constraints, and she’d never have been able to pull it off without the fairies helping her lead Vaughn around in a circle.

But despite the odds, she’d successfully managed to enchant thirty-five crystals, each one layered with no less than three enchantments.

The first—something basic and easily disarmed.

Little more than a decoy to hide the second enchantment—a slowing spell, all identical and seemingly dormant.

She had intended for Vaughn to find the first spell, maybe even the second.

But the third enchantment… it was such a tiny little spell, barely noticeable.

And its only purpose was to moderate the release of that second spell.

She was the spider, and Vaughn was the fly. And by the time he had finally sensed the web that was slowly tightening around him, it was too late.

“You know what your problem is, Vaughn?” She stopped in front of him, enjoying the way her aether flickered in those yellow eyes.

He was nearly frozen now. He couldn’t even blink.

“You’re arrogant. You let your prejudices blind you, and you never think to look deeper.

You underestimated me back in Vale because you thought I was just some pathetic little human, and you underestimated me today because you thought I was just some pathetic little mage. ”

Taly pulled the dagger from his waist and held it up to the light. Snowdrop—it was still just as beautiful as the day Skye had given it to her on the front steps of the manor. A birthday present made just for her.

Letting out a vicious snarl, she gave the man a hard shove, knocking him to the ground.

“I’m going to kill you now,” she said, using every ounce of fey strength she possessed to slam her heel down on his knee.

The joint shattered beneath his armor, and he let out a strangled whimper of pain. “And I’m not going to be gentle.”

She crouched over him, drawing the tip of her blade across his cheek.

The cut welled, but the enchantments caught the blood, keeping it from dripping.

She sketched a matching cut on the opposite cheek, and then waggled her fingers, watching as the cuts vanished and then reappeared, over and over until tears began to leak from those yellow eyes.

Feeling another pulse of aether thrash against the back of her mind, she began removing the pieces of his heavy plated armor, unfastening the buckles and letting them drop to the ground until she had stripped him from the waist up.

He wore an amulet around his neck, and though the symbol looked familiar—a single shadow crystal nestled between the coils of an ouroboros—she pushed it aside.

She went on, “As much as I would love to stay here all day and make sure you suffer, I don’t have time for that. I can already feel you pushing back, and unfortunately, even though I managed to catch you, I’m not strong enough to keep you down for long.”

She pressed her blade to his chest, carving out an “X” over his heart.

“You killed the thing I loved most.” And for a moment, that raging grief threatened to overwhelm her.

But instead of letting it crush her, break her down into a countless number of pieces that might never fit together the same way again—she used it, siphoning off every ounce of anguish and despair and feeding that bright, burning fury.