Page 275 of The Ascended
"Thatcher!" I called. "Thatcher!"
Nothing. Just curious glances, raised eyebrows, disapproving frowns.
"We need to split up," Marx decided.
I nodded, already moving. "He was talking to a group near the south entrance earlier. I'll start there."
"Thais." She caught my arm, her grip tight. "Could someone have somehow… disabled it?"
"If they did, they're already dead," I whispered, starlight sparking at my fingertips.
We separated, plunging into the crowd in different directions.I pushed through the mass of immortals, my new senses straining for any trace of him. Smell, sight, the feeling of air brushing past my skin—it was all intensified now.
"Have you seen Thatcher Morvaren?" I demanded of anyone who would listen, my voice growing more desperate with each repetition.
Blank stares. Shrugs. Head shakes.
My heart hammered against my ribs, each beat a desperate count of time passing without Thatcher. Five minutes. Ten. Fifteen. The celebration continued around me, oblivious to my growing terror.
I spotted Chavore across the chamber and pushed through the crowd toward him.
"Chavore," I said, trying to keep my voice steady despite my rising panic. "Have you seen Thatcher?"
He turned to me, his eyes unfocused and cloudy.
"Thais," he said, my name clearly an effort to recall. "You're... Thatcher's sister."
"Yes. Have you seen him? I can't find him anywhere."
Chavore's brow furrowed, his expression almost childlike in its confusion. "Thatcher? He was... here. Earlier." He gestured vaguely at the room. "After the ceremony."
"But where is he now?" I pressed, fighting to keep the desperation from my voice.
His eyes drifted away from my face. "I don't... remember." The admission seemed to pain him, a flash of awareness crossing his features.
As I turned to leave, Elysia appeared, sliding her arm through Chavore's.
"There you are, darling," she cooed, though her eyes were cold as they flicked over me. "You wandered off again. Come, everyone is waiting."
She led him away without acknowledging me further, guiding his steps with subtle pressure. I watched them go, a new kind of dread settling in my stomach. What the fuck was wrong with this place?
I started to follow them, but three guards materialized, blocking my path. "Lady Thais," one said, his tone polite but firm. "King Olinthar has asked that all new ascendants remain at the celebration. It's tradition."
"My brother is missing," I spat.
"I'm sure he's simply enjoying the festivities in another part of the palace," the guard replied, his placid smile never wavering. "Perhaps you should rejoin your fellow gods? This is, after all, a celebration in your honor."
The calculated dismissal in his voice made my blood boil. Starlight gathered at my fingertips, instinctive and dangerous. I could incinerate all three of them where they stood. I could tear this palace apart stone by stone until I found Thatcher.
But that wouldn't help him. Not if he was in real danger.
I needed to be smarter than that.
"Fine," I said, forcing my voice to calm. "I'll return to the celebration."
The guards nodded, satisfied, and moved aside. I turned as if to head back to the main hall, but the moment they were out of sight, I ducked down a side corridor. My heart still pounded with fear, but now a cold, calculating rage had settled alongside it.
I rounded a corner, and a flicker of movement caught my eye—a shadow where no shadow should have been, crawling down an empty corridor.
