Page 48 of As Above, So Below

Clenching my jaw, I swallow hard as the rumbling subsides. Sweeping across the room, I snatch the messenger bag from the couch, slinging the strap across me. It’s heavy but manageable, and if it comes down to it, I will leave it behind.

The tower shakes again, more intensely. The chandelier begins to rattle, dust-laden crystals clinking against gold, against one another.

Am I ready for this?

My innate vibrates in response.

It’s right. It doesn’t matter if I’m ready, it’s the path I’ve chosen.

A violent quake pitches me forward, my knees knocking against the couch as I outstretch my arms to brace myself against the back of it. The weight of the bag hauls me further, pulling against my neck and shoulder.

Come on, Vaelyn.

It stops again, and I straighten myself.

“Let’s go!” Ylara exclaims in a panic as she appears in a swirl of darkness.

As I whirl, she snatches my arm and I’m blinded by shadows.

They vanish and we’re left standing in Netharis’ dark study.

Magelights spring to life overhead, beckoned by Ylara. They hover over our heads, casting us in a cylindrical silver light.

Fueled by panic and desperation, I sprint around the desk and begin tearing through the shelves mounted on the wall. Ylara does the same a few feet away. Neither of us speak, the chaotic sound of our search filling the silence.

With trembling fingers, I push books and scrolls aside, not caring if they’re knocked off the shelf. I don’t have time to be careful. At the same time, I pay close attention to my innate waiting, for the familiar resonance of blood magic—the familiar low frequency thrum that vibrates in my bones.

Finding this jar, this nyraphim, is one of the last things standingbetween me and being able to take my first breath. My firstactualbreath.

Icannotfail here.

Not when I’m this close.

Clawing at one of the shelves, it lies just out of reach. Without hesitation, I place my foot upon a lower wooden shelf and hoist myself up. It bows under the weight of me and the bag. My fingers catch on the box I need moved, and it crashes to the floor, coming open. An array of dried, severed fingers tumbles across the polished obsidian.

Not caring, I return my attention to the shelf and my eyes grow wide.

Ylara looks at the box then to me, her eyes also widening.

“Ves…” she breathes, slowing to a stop in her search.

There upon the shelf, having been hidden behind the ornamental box, lies a tall canopic-like obsidian jar. Its surface gleams with a glassy sheen despite the Malbolge and Yggdrasil runes carved into it without care. It’s as if they were carved into it by talon at the last minute.

As I reach for it, the Tower begins to rock. My fingers clasp around the jar, and the shelf I stand on snaps. Flailing, I latch onto another shelf with my free hand, only to succeed in snapping that one too as I plummet to the floor.

Everythingcrashes to the ground and I cover my head with my hands, gripping the jar tight. Scrolls, books, sculptures, ornate glasses, and obsidian boxes rain down, knocking against me on their rapid descent as I struggle to remain upright. Ylara steps backward, bracing herself against the desk, her eyes wide with terror, fixed upon the wreckage we’ve—I’ve—created.

Finally, it subsides.

Clutching the jar against my chest, Ylara dares to speak. “I didn’t want to believe it to be true,” she whispers.

A bright flash of hellfire explodes in the center of the room, revealing Netharis holding VaelynandKassil in a chokehold, one in each hand, swung out at his sides. Instantly, all three pairs of eyes fall to me.

Every muscle in my body constricts and tightens as I stare intothe darkened blood-red eyes of my father. In less than a second, he releases the two demons as his face contorts with sheer, unadulterated rage with his realization of what I press against my chest.

Dropping the demons in his grip, he lunges, reaching for me across his desk. I scramble backward, panic and fear fueling me, flattening myself against the shelves, trying not to stumble on the debris.

Ylara grabs my arm, darkness encasing us. It wipes away my view of Vaelyn, Kassil, and the god of death. As I struggle to process, struggle to quell the fast rush of fear and try to find logic, the darkness dissipates.