Page 61 of Sanctifier

“Remember what I can do, Ruellian. Do not defy me. Do not test me. Quieting a soul is as easy as snapping my fingers.” Then she smiled, a beautiful, cruel curve of the mouth, and dropped Ru’s hand as if it were a piece of discarded filth. “You may go.”

CHAPTER 22

Ru tried to remain calm and collected in the aftermath of Lady Bellenet’s threats, but she was shaken. The image of Lady Bellenet’s dark eyes and glowing palm burned like a brand in her mind.

But Ru wouldn’t find comfort that morning, not yet. Lord D’Luc waited in the corridor outside Lady Bellenet’s chambers, leaning against the opposite wall. He wore pale green, a departure from his usual white and gold. His expression was strained, and shadows seemed to cling to his eyes and mouth.

For a moment, Ru was terrified and falling, unable to grasp at the beautiful walls on all sides, unable to stop herself from tilting over the edge and tumbling into desperate despair. There was no escape from this. She was alone. How could she stop Lady Bellenet when she was nothing but a prisoner herself? How could she save her friends, the courtiers, the world? All those Children… the professors… they were gone.

And then Hugon pushed himself from the wall and crossed over to her as Ru tried desperately to climb out of the darkness, to return to herself.

“She won’t do it again,” he said, as if he’d seen straight through to Ru’s terror. “Not to you. I relieved Lyr, by the way. You’re coming with me.”

His tone was matter-of-fact and dull. Ru thought of the Hugon D’Luc who hid behind the mask, the one who showed himself to her only in flickers and glances. Was this him? Or some other iteration of the man? Today, he seemed to be not much more than a ghost.

“Let me guess,” Ru said, deliberately hiding behind her sarcasm. “A demonstration.”

Hugon gave her a long, inscrutable look. “Correct as always, Delara.”

They walked through the palace in silence, Lord D’Luc leading by half a pace. With every passing moment, the world closed in on Ru. Her feet moved against her will. Crystal chandeliers threatened to swallow her up in a fractured reflection, repeating and repeating.

Lady Bellenet’s words echoed in her head.Quieting a soul is as easy as snapping my fingers.

“Through here,” Hugon said, stopping at a heavy wooden door.

Ru stared at it, imagining what might lie beyond — a dungeon, like the one in the Cornelian Tower, or worse. Smaller, a lower ceiling, nowhere to breathe. Or vaster, wider, endless and dark in all directions.

“Delara.” Hugon held the door open, watching her.

The door opened to a staircase leading down. White stone steps, worn low with age. Ru’s fingers knotted in her skirt. She reached for the artifact by habit, hoping for some comfort, but its vibrating presence wasn’t enough to soothe her.

“Delara.”

She didn’t move. Couldn’t. She knew she should go along with it, that she hadaskedfor this. But in the face of reality,she found herself frozen. This was the inevitable, the descent to the fate that would repeat itself again and again. The reflection of a reflection, distorted as it was. White-robed figures, a flash of blade, a gush of blood. Wherever these stairs led, the artifact would be waiting for her there.

“N—” she tried to speak, to refuse. Her mouth was fused shut, her muscles atrophied.Taryel, she cried silently, clinging to the feeling of the artifact.

Lord D’Luc went to where Ru stood fixed and unmoving in the corridor. He pressed one palm to her back, the other taking her hand. Firmly, with no hint of gentleness, he half-pushed, half-pulled her to the door.

“You must do this,” he muttered, easing her onto the stairs and closing the door behind them. “There’s no stopping it now,” he said as they went. Ru was ahead of him, the lord bracing a hand against her back, presumably in case she tried to flee.

The stairs seemed to go on forever. They were a nightmarish corkscrew, leading down and down into some dank, old part of the palace. Ru’s panic abated gradually, enough that she could think clearly. But that cold fear would not let her go.

“What if I refuse?” She spoke after a long period of silence, the only sounds their breathing, the movement of her skirts against the close walls, footsteps on stone. “What if I change my mind?”

Hugon made a dismissive sound. “It would change nothing.”

Ru stopped in her tracks, turning to level a hateful stare at the man. He halted, his eyes wide. “You can speak plainly to me,Hugon,” she said, her words venomous. “I know what you and your lady want me to do with the artifact. But it will be the same as before, at the Tower. I don’t know how to control it. I never have.” She bit her tongue; she would not cry. “It won’t react to me unless…”

“Continue down the stairs, Delara.”

“Why?”

He returned her hard gaze. “You know very wellwhy.”

Ru bit her lip hard, resisting the tears that pricked at her eyes. Lady Bellenet had frightened her, set her off-kilter, yet put everything in sharp focus. And Ru was hard put not to let her own emotions take her, to allow the anger and dread to swallow her whole. Perhaps that was what they wanted. For her to lose herself in despair, to become easy and pliant.

Biting back a sob, she spun on her heel, continuing down the stairs.

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