I look ahead, avoiding his gaze. “Maybe I know no one would believe me.”
He nods. “That’s why I haven’t told anyone about youreidolon.”
I freeze, turning to face him slowly.
“Don’t you recall introducing me to your pretty little friend?” he teases, running a hand through his messy hair.
“I didn’t forget,” I correct him, my cheeks now burning. “I simply didn’t expect you to know what they were called.”
“I read,” he says, offering no other explanation.
My eyes narrow. I know damn well that topic isn’t mentioned in many books. It’s not information most people just stumble across.
“By my estimation,” he continues, “you’re the firstIllusionistto be able to summon aneidolonin at least five centuries.”
“Six,” I correct him. “If we’re counting.”
The corner of his mouth kicks up in a crooked smile. “That, combined with the fact that you’re also awraith,makes you truly rare indeed.”
I toss a few copper strands over my shoulder. “The Fates must pick favorites. Try not to sound jealous.”
“Formidable as you are”—his lighthearted tone disappears, leaving him sounding almost regretful— “you wouldn’t stand a chance against me in a true fight.”
“I guess we’ll see,” I murmur, not understanding his sudden shift in mood.
“I hope not,” he says softly before changing the subject. “Are your parents as gifted as you?”
I shake my head. “My father has no magic, but my mother came from a strong line ofIllusionists. Or so I’m told.”
He raises a brow.
“She died when I was born,” I explain.
Sympathy creeps into his eyes. “I’m sorry.”
I nod, unsure of what to say next. We carry on in silence for a while until we reach a deviation in the tunnel, leaving us with two options. We could continue following our current path or diverge to a new one that leads up a flight of stairs.
On instinct, I step toward the new path. It feels right. Inevitable almost. But Thorne shakes his head, pointing the other way.
I start to follow him, but as if I’m being pushed by some unseeable force, I find myself turning back to the staircase again. As I take a step toward it, something unexpected happens.
My collar pulses.
A flash of heat radiates against my skin, fading quickly before repeating. I grab the necklace, my fingers frigid compared to its warmth.What’s happening to me?
Something tugs at my arm, startling me. I glance down to find a gloved hand wrapped around my bicep.
“Iverson,” Thorne whispers, his brows furrowed with worry. “Are you alright?”
I pull myself from his grasp, hating how strange I must seem right now.
“We need to go that way.” He nods in the other direction. “Listen.”
It’s only then I hear the faint voices in the distance. I frown. How did I not notice them before?
Touching my collar again, I find that the stones have cooled. Whatever was happening, it’s over now. Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I reluctantly follow him toward the original path. Still, I can’t help myself from glancing back once more. Whatever is up there, something tells me the sword isn’t the only thing Baylor hides down here.
Chapter