Page 61 of What Is Dark Within Me

Half of her was still at James’s mansion, watching blood spread across the fine threads of an antique rug. “Well, at least cannibalism wasn’t the first thing on the table,” she muttered. “So, the war with the Astraelis ends. With an Otherlander’s help, James Thomson captures a Throne’s Remnant and keeps itjustalive enough to remain under his control.”

She was about to question why he would bother to travel with it, especially through the treacherous mountains of the western United States when an answer came to her. “In theory, how would you keep a Remnant alive?”

“Like an Otherlander, they subsist on magical energy. That’s why they were so eager to feast on the battlefield,” Nicolas said with a grim frown.

“And, say, the sacrifice of a witch?”

"That would do the trick."

The table’s varnish puckered around the heat emanating from her hands. Nicolas didn’t seem to care. “James had to keep moving, not just because he wasn’t aging, but because wherever he went, women went missing. Witches went missing. He wouldn’t get away with it anymore in Paris or New York, but a remote area of the Pacific Northwest…”

“It’ll be the last stop. We’ll make sure of it.”

She leaned back on the hard wooden chair and closed her eyes, but Nicolas’s gaze was burned into her vision, like she had been staring at a bright lamp. “So, let’s go. There must be some sign of where the pass is among those papers. Maybe they settled there. You and I can handle a single Remnant.”

The words were not as urgent as she’d hoped for them to be. It wasn’t as if she missed Violet any less than before, but Aleja knew too much now. Too many secrets had been uncovered. Too many lives had been changed or lost. For the first time, she wondered if the cost of finding her dearest friend was worth what Aleja was forced to do along the way.

“It’s not the Remnant I’m worried about. It’s Roland. You killed his brother. Even if he has no use for the Astraelis anymore, there is now a Dark Saint out there who’ll be seeking revenge onyou,” he said. “It would be difficult to feed a Remnant only enough to keep it from dying, but not so much that you reawaken it. Whatever is holding Violet is keeping her alive for now. You need to hone your power, and we need a plan.”

“Why would Roland betray you like this?”

Nicolas absently picked at the red twine. “He wasn’t happy with how I ended the war. Even though he seemed to disagree with the Second’s punishment, Roland left the Hiding Place shortly after and never returned. As far as I know, he hasn’t contacted us since.”

“What did you do?”

He leaned back in the chair. Nicolas hadn’t summoned his wings back, but those on his shadow tucked closer to his torso. “I broke a truce. It was done to save the people I cared for, but that did not matter in the eyes of the Second. I swear I will tell you the entire story, butplease. Not tonight.”

She wanted to storm out of the room, but her body felt too heavy to do anything more than shift in the chair and wish she could run up the spiral staircase that led to her grandmother’s eternal dream. “You sought me out, Nicolas. I’d already lit the black candle once. Why Agnes Flanders’s basement? Why then?”

“I knew you’d never give up trying to find your friend. I was worried. Even if I couldn’t be near you, I wanted to keep you safe.”

“There’s more to it than that.”

His eyes moved away from her face, then to the ceiling.

“You’re not wrong,” he eventually said. “I told you, there’ve been stirrings among the Astraelis, whispers of a weakness in the Hiding Place, and you’ve… you’ve always been the only one I could trust completely.”

Aleja knotted her fingers together. Her knuckles were prominent, her fingernails as ragged as ever, but aside from that, it was as though she was looking at a stranger’s hands. There was power in them. Power that had already left a man dead, even if he had been despicable. A power she couldn’t fully control.

Not yet,said the voice.

“So what? You were going to ask me to become a Dark Saint again?”

“No. It takes years of training before someone is ready to attempt the Trials, and even then, they’re incredibly dangerous. The Second designed it so that only the best, the worthiest of his blessing, survive. I would neveraskit of anyone.”

“I’m not her,” she said. “I never will be her. But maybe you’re right. I need to learn how to control this power before we face Violet’s captors. I have one condition.”

“Anything,” Nicolas said. A simple answer, but Aleja knew this word meant more than it seemed. It wasn’t just a declaration. It was a confession.

“We send Garm to learn what he can. I trust him.Anyindication, even if it’s just a hint, that Violet is in danger, and we find the pass immediately.”

“Of course,” he said softly.

Aleja watched his fingers continue to tap gently against the table. It frightened her for two reasons. One, because she felt the sudden urge to entwine their hands, and two, because anything that made the Knowing One anxious was surely worse than whatever she could conjure in her mind.

Her hand landed atop his. Again came a burst of energy, like the place where two oceans met and swirled into one. She wished Nicolas would draw away and end this sensation. It was too pleasant. Too disorientating. It made her remember every dream where he had pressed kisses against her temple, her jaw, the soft space below her ear.

She allowed herself to sit with it as if she had taken on the task of undoing an enormous knot; picking apart the threads belonging to her from the ones belonging to Nicolas, and finding a number inextricably linking them both.

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