Page 49 of Death of the Glass Angel (Apotheosis #1)

Des’ eyes flew open to see Alfaris backing toward them, drawing a sword from beneath his robes. Something moved in the distance, a silhouette in the dim crypt. Footsteps echoed in the dark.

“Get behind me.” Gemellus shoved Des urgently.

Everything happened so quickly. A shadow flew from between two sarcophagi. Steel clashed against steel as Alfaris intercepted its blade. Des lost sight of them as she stumbled, drawing her dagger from her belt.

Gods, she couldn’t see a thing down here, save the faint curve of the corridor. More footsteps sounded nearby. A man flew from the shadows, his blade mere fog in this pall.

Des managed to skid left, ducking under the sword. She slashed at the shadow, but her blade cleaved through the air. Scrambling back, she watched the assassin advance upon her.

The assassin jerked forward as something black protruded from his chest—a spear of roiling shadows.

Gemellus pulled his shadow spear out and shoved the man forward. He pushed Des down the hall, standing guard before her as several more silhouettes darted through the darkness toward them.

“I sense none to our south.” He shouted. “Run. Get back to the crowd.”

Trusting him, Des turned and fled, trying to remember the map Janus had scanned. Veering around a winding corner, she plunged deeper into the tombs, passing countless dead housed in stone.

The hall deposited her into a circular chamber, the first she’d seen since leaving the trial. Something knelt ahead, rising into a standing position as she arrived.

She could tell it wasn’t human by its jerking motions, as though it were in pain. Silver gleamed under the faint torchlight, flecked with spots of blue.

From a distance, it might seem a man in a suit of gorgeous armor: finely engraved steel painted in lustrous color and carved with intricate runes. But it wasn’t. Nothing clanked as it moved—the metal was its skin.

Des’ limbs locked in fear. This was the living embodiment of the diagram—the creation those in the ruins had sought to make.

A ball of glowing lightning churned in a hole at the clockwork soldier’s core, and bloodshot eyes stared out from the single slit in its helm as it raised a heavy spear.

It lunged with inhuman speed, spear scraping a tear in Des’ arm as it flew past. The spear point thudded into the stone wall, cracking it open.

A gap in the neck: Talon said that was an armored man’s weakness. But this thing had no exposed skin, not when the armor was its body.

Des’ dagger drove into metal at the creature’s nape, and such force repelled her weapon that it flew from her hand and skidded across the floor.

The soldier swung around, the haft of its spear slamming into her chest and throwing her onto the ground. Wind knocked from her lungs, and she dragged herself into a sitting position, trying to crawl away as it approached.

Every step the soldier took reminded Des of a ticking clock, orderly yet sudden. It reached down, grabbing her neck so tightly she couldn’t breathe. Lowering its spear, it dragged her across the stone, deeper into the Monolith’s shadow.

A dagger flew across the room, clinking harmlessly off the clockwork soldier’s head. But the attack caught its attention. Des gasped as the clockwork soldier deposited her onto the floor.

Talon darted forward, grabbing another dagger from his boot as the creature turned in his direction.

Idiot. He was going to get himself killed.

Not that Des was faring any better. Feeling around for her lost weapon, Des desperately scanned the creature for any weakness.

Its eyes. They weren’t glassy like the strange mirages. They were human.

Talon managed to dodge as the clockwork soldier drove its spear into the ground where he’d been standing, splintering the stone floor.

It whirled around, limbs jerking as it dashed after Talon. The floor up-heaved, shifting into a hand that wrapped its fingers around the clockwork soldier’s legs and pulled it back.

Felsin must have only been a step behind Talon. He stepped into the light, fingers curled, mimicking his spell. The stone crumbled against the glittering armor as the clockwork soldier trudged forward, hunting Des again.

Rising, Des stumbled as pain raced through her arm and blood splashed across the floor. It hadn’t merely scraped her—a deep gouge tore through her forearm, slicing up towards her shoulder.

She gritted her teeth as the monster closed in. Janus could evoke, but Des could not. All she had were her wits and a blade.

Both useless at a time like this.

Though every movement seemed to pain it, the clockwork soldier was upon her in seconds, ferried by inhuman speed. Its hand reached for her throat.

“Des!” Talon called, voice strained with fear.

The clockwork soldier doubled over as the lightning churning in its core burst. Streaks of electric charge flared in every direction, traveling up its limbs and rattling through its legs.

Its anmarite body shuddered, as though warring between its owner’s control and Talon’s lightning. Des glanced behind it, noticing Talon’s eyes flare with light as he extended his injured arm, sparks flaring around his fingertips.

The core burst. Light blinded Des as force swept her off her feet and tossed her backward. She hit the ground, vision spinning as she tried to rise.

The clockwork soldier had been tossed against the far wall. Stones quickly gathered around it like a funeral cairn, entrapping the creature and entombing it against the wall.

Felsin’s face contorted in concentration as the soldier fought against its entrapment. The cairn shattered, sending stones flying in all directions. Des covered her head with her arm, watching as the creature, unharmed and unhindered, raised its spear to throw at Felsin.

Its eyes were its only weak point. Talon wouldn’t be able to make the throw; his dominant arm was still injured. Fumbling at her side, Des grabbed her blade.

She could see it—the memory of him expertly nailing the assassins, in the darkened rain. Years of practice had guided the strike. Des was a paltry apprentice by comparison.

But she either threw, or they died. And she’d rather go out fighting.

The spear and the dagger flew at the same time. Des watched in horror as the silvery glint of the spear point arced toward Felsin’s chest.

Her dagger tore through the creature’s eye, sliding between the narrow gaps of its helm. The spear tip brushed Felsin’s tunic, shattering into a thousand shards of light.

The clockwork soldier dissipated with its weapon. Des’ dagger soared through the eruption of light, like a shooting star across the night. It clattered to the ground as the particles that had once been the clockwork soldier faded away.

A single, black card remained where the clockwork soldier had been. Felsin knelt, picking it up. Even in this gloom, Des could tell it was one of his cards.

Talon fell upon Des, first grasping her face. “Are you alright?” He asked, tenderly grabbing her injured arm.

For once, words escaped Des. She stared at her dagger, lying alone on the floor.

Gemellus ran into the room, black cloak fluttering wildly about him, fingers lit by twilight. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” Felsin admitted.

Talon ripped off his coat and wrapped it around Des’ arm, staunching the bleeding. “Des. Are you alright?” He asked softly.

“Fine.” She assured him, accepting his offer of support. Eyes flashing with anger, she glared at Gemellus. “I thought you said there were none to the south.”

“There weren’t.” Gemellus gritted his teeth, yanking his hand as though pulling a rope.

A man bound by inky black chains was dragged into the room, sliding on his back to the center of the floor. Copper skin, black hair. The evoker from the ruins.

“There was only one assassin. He played a clever little trick with evoked shadows.” Gemellus explained, standing over his captive. “Keep an eye on him, Felsin.”

“Gladly.” Felsin drew a knife from his belt and knelt by the captive, yanking off his hood to reveal his face.

Gemellus hurried to Des’s side but froze suddenly. Shadows danced around his hand as he summoned the shadowy spear again and pointed it toward the western hall.

Alfaris had taken but one step into the chamber before finding a spear at his throat. He calmly raised his hands. “It’s only me, Gem.”

“Oh, I know,” Gemellus growled. “This chamber was empty until the moment Des arrived. Care to explain why?”

“I don’t know what you’re implying. Evokers cannot conjure the living.”

“No. Evokers cannot.”

Des blinked. Was Gemellus implying magic like that existed?

A countenance of sorrow flashed across Alfaris’ face. He displayed his empty palms. “We have never been enemies, Gem.”

Gemellus lowered his arm, spear melting into the shadows hugging the corners of the tomb. “Mark my words, Alfaris. If you so much as touch her. . .” He growled.

“Who’s getting attached, now?” Alfaris whispered, so quiet Des almost didn’t hear.

Oblivious to all in the tomb but Des, Talon finished wrapping her arm. “We need to get you out of here.” He put an arm around her.

“No.” She stood with some difficulty. “I want to hear what he has to say.”

Glancing at Alfaris, Des limped toward the captured evoker, clutching her arm. Even with a blade pressed to his throat, his look of stoicism displayed his unwillingness to break.

“Who would dare defile this place?” Felsin demanded. “Who sent you?”

“Let me.” Gemellus stalked over, grabbed the man by the collar, and pressed a hand to his face.

The man contorted in pain and horror, desperately trying to escape.

“Stop.” The man on the floor writhed, begging. “Stop!”

“Funny, coming from a man who uses this magic himself,” Gemellus growled, pulling his hand away. “Talk. Start with your name.”

The evoker sat up, breathing heavily. “Castelmar.”

Talon looked at Gemellus. “Do you know that name?”

“Yes.” Gemellus folded his arms, pacing around the captive. “Expelled from Valeria his final year. One of the rare humans of the Gaevral clan.”

“What for?” Talon asked.

“For nothing.” Castelmar spat. “I was framed by a Sigillite student who always hated me. It doesn’t matter now.”

“No, it doesn’t.” Gemellus agreed. “I’d rather know why you’ve set your sights on Janus.”

Castelmar’s gaze shifted to Des. She shivered, remembering him combing through her mind, the racking pain, the violation.

“I’ve been ordered to.” He said.

“By Heras?” Talon guessed. “Her missing memories. Where are they?”

The edge of Castelmar’s mouth curled up. “You think they’re missing? I didn’t take a damn thing from that little pond. Humans have no power over it.”

Felsin narrowed his eyes. “But something is obscuring them. What?”

“You think cefra have no control over their memories? They can pull them loose and pour them into living water. Why couldn’t they dampen memories, hide them behind locked boxes?

” Castelmar sat back. “But you’ll not pull a confession from me.

Anything you find by reading my mind is inadmissible. And my loyalty is absolute.”

“Talon,” Gemellus said sharply. “Des is injured. Get her to safety.”

“No.” Des protested. “I’m-”

“Now,” Gemellus ordered.

An arm swept under Des’ knees, pulling her off her feet. Her head spun, and the world temporarily darkened. When her vision steadied, Talon was cradling her in his arms, carrying her through dark tunnels.

She closed her eyes, leaning against his chest. Maybe she’d been thrown harder than she thought.

“Hmph.” She felt his chest vibrate as he laughed softly. “How has it taken until now for me to carry you to safety?”

“You’re never going to let me hear the end of this, are you?” She muttered.

“What?” Talon asked. “Because I saved your life? Nonsense. You saved mine in the ruins. Now, we’re even.”