Page 42 of What Is Dark Within Me

That she had aimed properly was entirely accidental. The space was void of trees and the Remnant directly in front of her. But as her flames engulfed it, the little voice in her mind swelled with approval.

“Scrying? That didn’t work out so well last time. Where is Garm? I feel so useless sitting around here for days on end.”

“Garm will return when he’s found the doctor. He needs more time. I told you, only a few hours have passed—” Nicolas began.

“In the human world, I know.”

He unfurled his fingers, revealing another relic in his palm. It was smaller than the one from Violet’s backpack; a tooth encased in a silver vial with an impossibly delicate serpent coiled around it. “It won’t be like last time. This relic came from one of our soldiers—he’ll be more amenable to your presence.”

“Violet never touched this relic.”

“That’s not what we’re looking for this time. Come. There’s a room this way that should be relatively fireproof, just in case.”

“Fireproof? What are we trying to find out?”

“We don’t keep these relics because they’re good luck charms. They contain memories, as you experienced. After the war, we used them to relive battles; to see where we went wrong, what we could do differently, should the Astraelis attack us again.”

“Is that possible?” she said, swallowing. Liam avoided mentioning the war, but her experience with the Remnants made it seem more tangible. A conflict had left scars on every piece of flesh and stone in the Hiding Place.

“The truce has held for centuries, but it would only take one accident, one moment of fury between our kinds, to shatter the peace. Something has been testing our wards, as if they understand we’re not at our strongest.”

“Why not appoint a new Dark Saint and be done with it?” she asked as Nicolas held a door open for her. The room beyond had walls and floors of red marble, streaked with white veins like a piece of meat. There was a colossal bronze statue at the center; a beautiful angel with clawed wings, holding a broken crown in his left hand.

I knew the Otherlanders weren’t exactly humble, but geez,said the voice in her head.

“The Second is creative about the torments he puts those ascending to Dark Sainthood through. Even with years of training before undergoing the Trials, they’re often killed. It took centuries to find someone like Taddeas.”

“That didn’t answer the question,” she told him.

“I’ve found no one I could trust to take your place,” he admitted. “You’ll see what I mean in a moment. Take the relic.”

Aleja tried to swallow again and found she couldn’t. The first time she’d done this, it had ended in her setting the rose garden on fire. “This could help us find Violet?”

“Yes. Thierry Laurent mentioned an Unholy Well, where the bones of an Astraelis remained. Few battles took place in the human realm—neither side wanted to deplete their devotees. This tooth came from a soldier who died in battle near where Violet disappeared.”

She let out a breath. “Good. That could be a clue. Where?”

“In a region of the northwestern Cascades, too mountainous to be inhabited by humans. Worth a look, don’t you think?”

“Yes,” she said, though the thought of having to scry again was making her nauseous.

“I must warn you, both you and I were in this fight. If you find the thought of seeing that—”

“It’s better than twiddling my thumbs waiting for the dog,” Aleja said, speaking to herself as much as Nicolas. “Let’s do it.”

“We’ll go moments after the battle ended to see if anything might have survived. We’re going to channel our power together this time. It’ll give us more than just memory fragments. Ready?” he said. He held out a hand.

She hesitated, looking at the skin of his palm. She had felt his burning-hot magic ripple through her, but that had been before she’d seen the portrait of herself and the Knowing One that hung over their once-shared bed. “What do I do?” she asked.

“The contact between us should be enough for me to regain some of my magic, considering the marriage bond.”

She tried not to wince at those words and dropped her hand into his, knowing it would be worse if she hesitated. The sensation was instantaneous, almost pleasant. If it had been someone else standing across from her, she might have leaned closer.

“How should I—” she began, but the world changed.

Nicolas released her hand. Gods, she would never say so aloud, but she wished he hadn’t. At least hating his touch was familiar.

The red marble became red sky as the ground roughened. Gravel slipped from under her shoes, tumbling down the side of the mountain they were now atop. The air smelled metallic, almost industrial, with black smoke wafting from the smoldering battlefield below. She forced herself to look down, thankful for the mud already swallowing the bodies, but with the shift in position, her boot met something soft.

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