“It’s a sterilizing room,” I say, feeling sick. “None of the clerics can have children. This is why. They must operate on the children when they first get here.”
Leon curses under his breath, and Eryx is pale with rage.
“May they rot in the Gloamlands for eternity,” he growls.
“Come on,” I say, new determination burning in my veins. “We’re wasting time.”
When we slip out of that cursed room, there’s no change in the chanting acolytes. When we get a few steps further and see another room off the left of the hall, I pray we’ve found the place we’re looking for.
Relief floods through me as we’re greeted by the smell of old books and ink. That feeling ebbs when I see justhow manybooks fill the shelves. We’ll need some time here if we’re going to find the codex. The prayer ritual only lasts for an hour, and we’ve already eaten a chunk of that up just getting into the complex.
“Spread out,” Leon orders. Alastor and I frantically start scanning the shelves as Leon and Eryx rifle through the desk.
We’ve only been searching for five minutes when all three fae freeze.
“Footsteps,” Leon says. “Hide.”
Chapter 38
Morgana
Ithrow myself under the desk without a second thought, folding myself up into the deep footwell to make myself as small as I can. Panic sweeps through me when I see the fae—for lack of a better hiding place—have piled behind the door. Whoever’s on their way will notice the trio as soon as they come in and close the door behind them. The fae will have to kill another Temple member, and who knows if they’ll manage it before they make a noise and wake up the whole hall?
I swallow, readying my sun beams in case I need to help, when the door starts to creak open.
Then it stops, hovering ajar for a few moments before closing again.
The fae visibly relax, fanning back out across the room.
“Do you think they’ll come back?” I ask, climbing out from under the desk.
“It was another senior cleric,” Eryx says. “And right now she’s gone to sort out whatever it is she’s realized she’s forgotten.”
I remember Eryx’s sensic ability, and gratitude floods through me.
“Good thinking,” I say. I am about to dive back into searching the shelves when Eryx frowns and moves toward the window.
Both Leon and Alastor are looking in that direction too, something making them tense as they stare beyond the far wall of the complex.
“What is it?” I say, frustrated by my weak human eyesight. I push my way toward the window and see there, past the wall, figures fighting.
“Is that Harman and the others?” I ask, my blood running cold.
“The guards must have discovered them,” Eryx says grimly, glancing toward the door. “But no one’s realized we’re inside too, otherwise the alarm would have been raised by now.”
I stare hard at the distant fight, trying to make out what’s happening. The clerics are easy to identify thanks to their red robes, and there seem to be a lot of them.
“Are they losing?” I ask, my panic rising.
“Hard to tell,” Alastor says, and he sounds as tense as I feel. “The fact most of the clerics are twin-blessed isn’t exactly helping.”
“That’s enough, Alastor. We need to focus on finding the codex and getting out of here,” Leon says.
But Alastor ignores him, gasping and rushing to the window.
“What happened?” I demand. “I can hardly make out anything from here.”
“It’s Harman,” Alastor says, looking pale. “He’s injured. I can’t tell how badly.”
