Page 162 of Heir of Illusion

With no reason to object to their request, I trudge toward the flannel blanket. I’m only a foot away when Clara steps in front of me, blocking my path. I glance up to ask what she’s doing, but the sight of her face sends me stumbling back in horror.

The pleasant expression she wore earlier melts away as her eyes grow unnaturally wide. White light bursts from behind her irises, glowing like moonlight. It radiates throughout her whole body, emanating from somewhere within her.

“Wake up, Ivy,” she says, her voice deeper than I’ve ever heard it. “You need to?—”

Her words cut off as the tip of a blade suddenly pushes out of her forehead. A scream rises in my throat as her face contorts, and the world around us melts away, being replaced by chaos. Smoke tickles my throat. The sound of weapons clashing is everywhere as a mob of people battle in front of the rotting gray house.

Instead of Clara, a man stands before me with a sword through his head.The mendax,I realize as the blade is pulled free, leaving theIllusionistto fall lifelessly before me.

“Are you alright, my lady?” a shaky voice asks.

Looking up, I find Calum standing in front of me, his chest heaving up and down as he catches his breath. My focus snags on the bloodstained sword clutched in his trembling hands.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, trying to make sense of what’s happening.

“We aren’t lettin’ these bastards take our home from us,” he curses, his rheumy eyes shining with determination. “The Lowers may not be much, but it’s ours. And we’ll defend it.”

My gaze flits over the chaos once more, and I realize he’s right. All around us, mortals are battling the Forsaken. When did they show up? How did they know to come? Questions swirl through my mind as my attention drops to the man lying dead at my feet.

“You saved me,” I whisper, glancing up at my friend once again.

“Of course.” He waves me off with a shaking hand. “Ya can always count on me, my lady.”

My brows shoot up as my mouth falls open. “You know who I am?”

“I may be old, but I’m not daft,” he grumbles, his shoulders hunching forward as he struggles to hold up the weight of his rusted broadsword. “It’s not hard to guess the identity of the invisible lass from the pub when you live in the same city as a wraith.”

Shock barrels through me, nearly tipping me over, but he reaches out to steady me. I never realized he knew who I was when we would sit together and chat over a pint of ale. In all honesty, I always assumed he thought I was just a voice in his head, not someone real…

“We need to mo—” His words cut off as his eyes go round.

The lines of his face tighten as he falls to his knees, and I spot the hilt of a dagger sticking out of his back. The world shudders around me as I notice the person standing behind him, a gleeful smile twisting her wrinkled face.

The old woman who attacked me a few weeks ago.

The one I spared.

“He said all the rats will bleed and die,”she sings her haunting song, jumping up and down as she claps her hands. “When all the stars fall from?—”

Her voice abruptly cuts off when my blade pierces her throat, but I don’t bother watching her die. Instead I turn back to Calum, sinking to the ground as I roll him onto his back. His head falls limply to the side, his cloudy eyes seeing nothing as they stare at the battle raging next to us.

“No,” I whisper, the sound going unheard as it’s eaten up by the clashing of swords.

My fingers shake as they press against his neck, searching for a pulse I already know I won’t find. Death has been my constant companion over the years, haunting every step I take. I’ve met many iterations of it, yet somehow, this one feels the most unfair. I know Calum lived a great life. He married his childhood sweetheart, and they spent fifty-three years together until she passed. He was ready to follow her through the veil, but it shouldn’t have been like this. Not here, where he’s just another body piling up on a battlefield. He deserved to be warm in his bed, surrounded by his family.

Something wet trails down my face as I close his eyes and position his hands over his chest. He almost looks as if he could be sleeping…

Air swooshes toward my cheek, and I duck seconds before a sword slices over my head. Turning, I find a man standing above me, his eyes burning with wicked delight as he raises his weapon to swing again. I roll out of the way, tossing a knife at his chest as I shoot to my feet. He falls to his knees, his wound spewing blood all over the ground, but I don’t have time to care.

Forcing myself to leave Calum’s body behind, I push aside all the emotions swirling within me, leaving only a cold, righteous fury to fuel my fight. Scanning the crowd, I find a large group of mortals gathered near the porch as they try to fight off the Forsaken. I search their faces for a glimpse of my friends but come up blank. There’s too much chaos to find anyone in this mess.

Knowing I’ll never make it through that mass of people, I take off running around the side of the house. Several Forsaken try to stop me as I sprint through the raging battle, but all of them regret that choice as the light leaves their eyes. There’s no room for mercy tonight. Only death.

It’s eerily quiet as I reach the left side of the house, finding it free of any fighting. A frisson of unease curls around me as I search for a way inside, unable to stop myself from glancing over my shoulder every five seconds. The windows on the bottom floor are boarded up, but most of the ones on the second story are wide open.

A truly stupid plan forms in my mind, but with limited options, I latch onto it. Grabbing a nearby trash bin, I tip it upside down and place it directly under one of the second-floor windows. I thank the Fates that it holds steady under my feet as I climb on top. Even with my arms stretched above my head, there’s still about twelve inches of space between me and my target.

I take a deep breath, steeling my spine as I bend my knees. Relying on every ounce of muscle I’ve built over the years, I push off the can and jump. Uneven wood digs into my fingers as they latch onto the windowsill. My arms and shoulders protest painfully as I hang against the side of the house, my feet kicking wildly. Fire burns in my core, but I manage to pull myself over the ledge and tumble into the room.

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