Page 175 of Death of the Glass Angel
“I couldn’t’ let them think they’d go unopposed.” Des pulled her hood back up. She halted outside the gates. “Something’s coming. I don’t know what. War, or. . . or something worse.”
“Heras certainly made that clear.”
“I need you to teach me.”
“Have I not already?”
“Not evoking. Not history.” Des looked up at him, remembering the man she’d seen in the tomb, and the shadows he’d effortlessly wielded. “You said you were the shadows themselves. I have nothing but a knife and my wits. I need an edge.”
The breeze stirred Gemellus’ hair and blindfold as he stared at her with an uncertain frown. “Did not Talon tell you to step into the light?”
“Talon left me.” Des spat. “I’m nothing more than a shadow. Even the stars think so.”
Gemellus glanced away. “Before I came to Valeria, I was much like you. Stripped of name and purpose, consigned to be forgotten. I can teach you. But it is a road not easily returned from.”
Des chuckled. “You make it sound so dramatic.”
But Gemellus didn’t laugh. He grabbed her wrist and laid her palm flat, facing upwards. Shadows swirled between her fingers, dancing into the shapes of flying dragons.
“This.” He whispered. “Is not evoking. Do you understand?”
Nodding, Des stared into the void of his blindfold. “Teach me.”
Releasing her hand, Gemellus turned away, cape swirling behind him. “Let go your notions of the world. Leave behind the known. Throw away the stalwart mind, andembrace the darkest desires of yourheart.”
46
Gemellus
Seven years ago. . .
Gemellus could scarcely remember a time when he could see. An evoker’s mind blessed him with the ability to remember everything from those days—painted in color against the black backdrop of his world.
Water churned below as rain pattered against the lake. A breeze stirred the banners hanging from the tower, and hasty footsteps and whispers carried the students down the corridor behind him.
Reaching into his bag, he pulled out the letter Alfaris had sent, running his fingers over the cracked parchment.
Alfarisneverwrote. Though he looked like an old man now, Gemellus could only recall the child he’d been so long ago.
And that child, sweet as he could be, had done terrible things without a hint of remorse. This letter did not herald anything good.
“What’s that?” The high-pitched voice of a young boy asked.
Eros had a unique gait; he walked too quickly, tripped, hobbled for a moment, and then stepped carefully before the cycle repeated. Gemellus could hear him coming a mile away.
“None of your business,” Gemellus answered, rolling the letter up and tucking it away.
“Hm. Okay.” Eros stood beside Gemellus, leaning over the banister to look at the lake.
Nervous he’d fall, Gemellus grabbed his robes and pulled him back. “Let me guess. Janus tired of you and sent you away?”
“You really do know everything.”
Sighing, Gemellus rubbed his eyes. “I suppose I should entertain you. Gods know you shouldn’t be left to wander alone.” Turning from the lake, Gemellus beckoned for the kid to follow.
“Great!” Eros didn’t realize Gemellus had left until he was at the tower doors. Tripping over himself, he hurried to catch up. “I wanted to ask you something.”
Holding the door open, Gemellus listened to the kid step inside. “What?”
