Page 181 of Quicksilver

Malcolm snarled, sinking his teeth deeper into Carrion's neck. He was losing control. Losing himself to his own blood lust. His throat worked as he took down Carrion's blood in great swallows. Frenzied, he withdrew his fangs—he was going to search for a better hold or a better vein?—but then a look of surprise chased over his features. Malcolm rocked back on his heels, lips stained red, his chin crinkling in an odd way as he frowned down at Carrion.

“You...” he said.

Carrion was deathly pale, but he grinned up at Malcolm like a lunatic. “You really should have let me finish introducing myself earlier. It's rude to interrupt people.”

Malcolm let go of him, shoving him away. Miraculously, Carrion managed to stay on his feet. “My name is Carrion Swift. But there was a time when I was known as Carrion Daianthus. First born son to Rurik and Amelia Daianthus.”

Malcolm began to shake. A violent convulsion wracked through him, and a thick stream of blood jetted from his mouth. It spattered over the coins at his feet. “You tricked me?” Hechoked, vomiting up another gush of blood.“You tricked me into drinking Daianthus blood?”

“Holy...fucking...gods.” Fisher and Lorreth muttered the curse in unison.

“What the hell is happening?” Dianthus? I'd heard the name, but I couldn't remember when.

As if struck with a sudden sense of urgency, Fisher spun and grabbed me by the shoulders. “Can you sense it?” he demanded. “Can you feel where it is?”

“I—I don't know! I—” But yes. There it was. A whisper of a voice. Faint. Tiny. But there. “I've got it.”

Dirty grey smoke started pouring out of Malcolm's mouth. His perfect porcelain skin was suddenly riddled with pulsing black veins.

“What have you done?” Belikon roared. Both he and Madra floated down the slope of the coins, raising their hands...

Fisher gave me a shake. “Saeris. Is it here?”

“No, not here.”

“But inside the labyrinth?”

I nodded.

Fisher pressed Solace into my palm and closed my hand around its hilt. “Then go. Find it. End this.”

The Widow's Bane was wearing off. My ribs spiked with pain as I hurtled through the labyrinth. I pumped my arms, Solace cutting through the air as I ran. The walls weren't moving anymore. Clearly, they needed direction from Malcolm to dothat, and the vampire was too busy choking—dying?—to pull those kinds of strings.

The obsidian passageways had been terrifying enough when I'd been running through them with my friends, but now they were downright petrifying.

It was too quiet.

It took me a moment to realize why.

And then it occurred to me: the smoldering bodies in the stands had fallen silent.

What did that mean? Was Fisher dead? Were Lorreth and Carrion gone, too? I wanted to scream. Fear and panic claimed me bit by bit. I was going to lose my mind. I could barely hear the little whisper now. It seemed to be growing quieter, even though my gut told me that I was getting closer.

Saeris...

Saeris...

It called to me by name.

Suddenly, I wasn't so sure anymore. I had thought I was going the right way, but the whisper seemed to be coming from every direction. “Where are you? Please,”I begged. “I need you.”

“Not need,”the whisper said. “Want.”

“No! I need you. I need to save my friends. I need you to help me. Please show me where you are!”

I ran back the way I'd come, my heart climbing up into my throat. It was so dark. So quiet. I felt the lightest tug in my stomach as I ran by a turn and backtracked, sprinting that way instead.

The whisper said nothing.