Page 67 of The Immortal Covenant

Sarilian bit his lip. “I think so. Hang on.”

The Celestial repeated his earlier enchantment on them, rendering them both nearly invisible once Malorg reinforced the woven dawnflame with his own duskflame. Their disguises secured, they continued on, picking up their pace now that there were fewer guards and wider corridors.

They reached the antechamber at the Citadel’s entrance without incident, weaving past columns enchanted to resemble dancing men and women in various states of undress. They were halfway across the room, less than fifty paces from the doors, when a shadowed figure appeared blocking their way.

“Hello, old friend,” Pelorak said, his handsome face contorting into a feral grin.

More figures emerged from behind the pillars all around them—near twenty Infernals dressed for battle, wielding an impressive assortment of cursed blades. Malorg’s heart sank.A trap.Pelorak had been waiting for them.

“I know you’re there, Malorg,” the Aspect called. He made an impatient gesture with fingers crackling with duskflame. “I’m not sure what kind of Celestial sorcery you’re using to hide yourselves, but my touch lingers on you still. No matter where you go, Iwillfind you.”

“You’ll have to get through me first,” Sarilian shouted from beside Malorg.

Pelorak chuckled, his gaze flicking to Sarilian’s general vicinity. “Ah, the wayward Celestial. Don’t worry—I haven’t forgotten about you. No doubt the Dawn Council will disavow your actions the instant I make a fuss. And when I tell them you died in a botched rescue attempt…well, they’ll probably be relieved to have your disobedience so cleanly dealt with.” He tapped a finger against his chin. “I’ve never had the opportunity to study a Celestial mutt in captivity before. I’m sure the results would be most illuminating.”

Before Malorg could retort, an unseen command from Pelorak sent the Infernal guards advancing in flickers of shadow. At the same instant, a wave of dawnflame erupted from Sarilian in a blinding flash of pure brilliance.

Cries rang out around the chamber. For a terrible moment, Malorg was back on that battlefield of ash, battered by Uryqh’sscreams.Thisdawnflame, however, didn’t burn or sear. Malorg felt it like a warm caress on his skin.

Fingers scrabbled for his, and he gripped Sarilian’s proffered hand. Ablaze as the Celestial was with dawnflame, the touch was near scalding, almost painful. Then, as abruptly as it had appeared, the dazzling light began to dim.

“I can’t hold it much longer,” Sarilian hissed, his voice trembling with exertion. “I’m already giving the spell everything I have left.”

From somewhere ahead of them, Pelorak’s triumphant cry rang out. “He’s weakening!Attack, you Dark-cursed fools! He’s only a single Celestial, pathetic and alone!”

“He’snotalone!”

Inhaling a deep breath to brace himself, Malorg channeled his duskflame through their linked palms. He couldn’t see well enough to shape the weave, but thankfully, granting it to Sarilian seemed to be enough.

This wasn’t some finely crafted spell like the illusory shroud or the Celestial’s spear—it was a raw explosion of unfocused power. As Malorg’s duskflame mixed with Sarilian’s dawnflame, lending it a darker but no less blinding cast, the shining beacon intensified once more, fueled by their shared magics.

“Merciful Light,” Sarilian whispered, sounding awed.

He tugged on Malorg’s hand. Unsure whether Sarilian could see him, Malorg gave an affirming squeeze in response and allowed himself to be led.

A surge of some dark curse swept through where they’d been. Malorg tried to quicken his own stumbling pace, as blind as the other Infernals amid Sarilian’s light. Then, abruptly, the brilliant luminance cut out.

Malorg blinked, taking in Twilight’s familiar darkness. They stood on the Dusk Citadel’s steps. Somewhere along the way, their shrouds had fallen apart, leaving them both visible.Sarilian’s bronze face was paler than usual, his dawnflame glow almost entirely dimmed.

“Even with our combined magic, that won’t hold them for long,” Sarilian said. Malorg followed his gaze behind them to see the antechamber still awash in blinding radiance. Sarilian must have tied the spell to a location rather than to himself. “We need to—”

Sarilian’s words cut off in a gurgled cry as a dark cloud enveloped him. Malorg spun to see Pelorak emerging from the light, his black eyes sunken into furious pits. He held a hand stretched toward them, duskflame dancing over his fingertips.

“A clever ploy. But did you honestly believe parlor tricks would work on a Dusk Aspect?”

Twin shadow blades appeared in Malorg’s grip. He took a step toward Pelorak, but the Aspect of Ambition held up his crackling hand in warning. “Not another step, old friend—not unless you want to watch me rip your precious Celestial pet apart.”

Malorg clenched his jaw, his fingers squeezing his daggers’ hilts. Eternal Dark, how he longed to impale them in Pelorak’s smug face.

As if sensing Malorg’s train of thought, Pelorak twitched his fingers. A terrible shiver racked Sarilian’s body with spasms as he whimpered. Malorg froze, his every muscle tightening with abject hate. Reluctantly, he allowed his conjured blades to dissipate.

Pelorak grinned. “There’s a good boy. Soon enough, that little light show will fade, and my guards will come for you. Until then, perhaps some entertainment, hmm?” He cocked an eyebrow as he flexed the fingers on his glowing hand.

“Don’t hurt him!” Malorg cried. Swallowing his pride and hate, he added, “Please. I’m the one who betrayed you. Take me but let him go. He’s innocent.”

“He’s aCelestial,”Pelorak hissed, eying Sarilian with open disgust. “I permitted their delegates to sully our halls out of necessity, but not even his own people will miss this one—not after how desperately he’s whored after you. He is mine to do with as I please.” Pelorak raked an assessing gaze over Malorg’s body that made his skin crawl. “As are you. What do you think? One traitor fighting another—seems appropriate, doesn’t it?”

The Aspect twitched his fingers. Sarilian’s limbs moved with unnatural jerks reminiscent of a child’s doll as he channeled dawnflame into a divine spear and twisted to face Malorg. Confronted with the horrifying sight of his lover ensnared by his former friend’s vile magic, Malorg set his jaw, desperately racking his brain for any way to escape this madness.

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