Page 114 of Blackwicket

“Annulled by them or me,” he growled. “You can choose.”

He took a threatening step forward, urging Ramsey to shield his wife with his arm, though she didn’t seem threatened. Instead, she appeared endlessly empathetic, inspiring unexpected rage in me.

“Fine,” I hissed. “Ramsey and Hannah can wait outside theVapors for the wards to be dismantled. I’ll go by myself. Victor, stay here with Fiona; she can’t be alone..”

I’d already mounted the broken stairs when Victor took me by the arm.

“Like hell you’ll face William alone,” he said.

“Victor, the Fiend will sense you immediately.”

“And it’ll politely ignore the portion of William’s Drudge you’re carrying around, will it?” He asked with some impatience.

There’d be no shaking him.

“I’ll keep the portal open,” Fiona offered, and when she saw I was about to object, “I need to stay close to Dark Hall, Ellie. I won’t be any help at the Vapors. Hannah and Ramsey should go.”

A knot of fear tightened in my stomach for what we were risking.

With Fiona clutching me for balance, we ascended the decayed steps, returning to the room filled with my sister’s terrible secrets. The cursed plants had been reduced to brown, rustling husks of vines and stalks, mingling with the remnants of blackberry fruit. It possessed the smell of an overgrown graveyard, and the floor beneath us was soft, weaker for the absence of roots holding it together.

The portal shimmered, responding enthusiastically to our combined magic. I sensed the call, the melody of Dark Hall beckoning me. Much like the sea, it was familiar and welcoming, despite the dangers lurking within.

My sister’s trophies lay scattered around our mother’s hope chest.

“Why did you keep their clothes?” Morbid curiosity compelled me to ask.

“So I could remember how much I hated them all. It helped the cursed fruit grow.” No pride or offense existed in her tone, only the resignation of someone who could never change thepast, and wouldn’t if given a choice. “You should know I never fed on their magic. Of all the horrible things I am, I couldn’t bring myself to do that.”

It was a shot at Victor, whose abuse of the Brom had never been a secret.

“We all make choices,” he replied, but the words lacked their typical steely edge.

Fiona touched the Narthex, and it quivered, connecting to her. She sucked in a small breath, in pain, and I reached to her, but she waved me away.

“Don’t baby me. You’ll have to go directly after her, Victor. Don’t linger. There’s no telling how near the Fiend is.”

I spared seconds we didn’t have to hug her, longing for a day when neither of us would be looking death in the face and asking for a minute more.

“Eviscerate the bastard,” she whispered, releasing me and turning her attention to Victor.

“I don’t like you, Inspector,” Fiona said pointedly. “But you’re not the worst thing that’s ever happened to Eleanora. Take care of her.”

“In Dark Hall? If history serves, it’s going to be the other way around,” he replied with a note of teasing, as though he’d just remembered that once, he and Fiona had been friends.

My sister surprised us all by hugging him as well. Victor stiffened in the embrace, expression the closest thing to bewilderment I’d ever seen on him. He offered her a graceless pat in return.

“Go quickly.” She hurried us, tears in her voice.

We said nothing more as I faced the Narthex. The wall was pliant, and I leaned into it, suspended for a disorienting moment in space, before I found myself upright in the dark.

“Victor?” I whispered.

“I’m here,” he said, at my elbow.

It occurred to me, as pointless thoughts sometimes do when you’re trying not to be frightened, that this was our first journey to Dark Hall together since childhood. I hoped this one would be an improvement over the last.

“This way,” I said, hushed, moving into dark, trusting my magic to guide me. I was unwilling to wait until the corridors fully materialized, uninterested in seeing the bodies again.