“Of course I will help you,” Suriel chided. “Why do you think I left your bedside? I have been trying to locate her. Calm yourself, Gavriel.”
Icy wind struck his face as they launched from one of the platforms and flew toward the black tower called Sinjali’s Lance, whose portals led to every province in Sion.
He would give Suriel a chance. But if she failed, he would tear her beloved city down with his own hands if he had to, stone by stone, until he found Cathrynne Rowan.
Chapter 25
Cathrynne
When the beatings failed, the White Foxes tried threats.
They said she would spend the remainder of her days in this dark cell, with a ceiling too low to stand and walls narrow enough to touch.
They said Gavriel Morningstar was dead. No one would come looking for her.
They said Mercy was being held in another cell, and she would die too if Cathrynne didn’t cooperate.
But they were lying—about the last two things, at least.
She’d overheard them talking about how Mercy had escaped in the woods. And she knew Gavriel was alive because she dreamt about him. He was in a majestic city of snow and ice that could only be Mount Meru. He had been unconscious, but now he was awake.
Yet she saw a sword dangling above his head and knew the danger had not passed.
She had to get out of this prison. For herself, and to keep Gavriel safe from harm. She was still his bodyguard.
When she heard footsteps and saw the faint glow of a lantern under the door, she curled into a ball, muttering incoherently.
“Pick her up.” Kane’s deep voice.
From the corner of her eye, Cathrynne saw Ash crouch to enter the tiny room.
The White Foxes never wore projective gems. There was no metal in the cell, either.
But there was metal in Ash’s face.
They thought Cathrynne couldn’t use it. Cyphers didn’t learn to wield receptive magic.
But they had forgotten that she’d been raised as a full-blood witch until the age of eleven. And she had nothing to do between beatings except comb through her early memories and dig out the things she’d been taught.
Projective magic used conscious will. Receptive magic used subconscious need.
Mastery was a far more complicated endeavor, but that was the gist.
Ash bent down and roughly grabbed Cathrynne’s bruised arm. The moment she made contact, Cathrynne opened her mind to the resonance of the silver piercings.
She saw a moon reflected in water. Silver was connected with divination. It was also, as she had told the young cypher class, an element of protection.
Mighty Minerva, she begged, please help me.
Ash gasped as the ley flowed from her own jewelry into Cathrynne’s shaky control. It flickered, then held steady, forming a shield. Cathrynne threw an elbow to her face, ducked past Kane, and got out the door.
She sprinted barefoot down the narrow corridor. Light flared ahead, and then someone unleashed a projective spell. It washed over her, but she could feel the protective magic dwindle. On the next blast, the shield wavered and popped.
Kane’s huge bulk grabbed her from behind. Cathrynne screamed as they dragged her back to the cell and threw her inside. She lay there, panting. She knew they wouldn’t come back for a while. Maybe days.
A heavy despair came over her.
But they did come back, only minutes later. As she heard their voices in the passage, the darkness faded and she saw . . .
