Page 168 of Amethyst and Iron
“I get it. You think he didn’t want to put it in my head that there was a comparison to be made between his father and mine. And I’m also well aware that it’s not the same, that they’re not the same. Ryker’s father recovered from it. I work with Gabriel.”
“Through Arcanum Order, yes.”
Of course the Commander of The Shadowed knew all about our clandestine group. And not just because he was a master of intelligence gathering. Just like I’d suspected before Victor Halrow had made the claim, Remnant and Cornelius were allied and working together. To what extent, though, remained to be seen.
“It’s not my intention to look for redemption viability in him, nor even to dig for signs of humanity. I know there’s none. I know he’s too far gone.”
“You are showing no emotion whatsoever regarding news of his resurrection.”
“He’s nothing to me. I’m not Lazriel, I’m not looking for a father. I don’t want that.”
“If this is your true stance, then there is no concern. However, if you are repressing, then there is danger.”
“What do you mean?”
“What about hatred?”
“What?”
“There may be no love lost, but what of the other side?”
“I just want him gone. Like he should already be.” I quirked my lips. “It bothers me when those who’ve been killed and needed to die don’t stay buried. A fucking hassle, is what it is.”
“Needed to die.That is worth noting.”
I arched an eyebrow.
“Notdeserved to die.Butneeded to.”He stepped back and gave a nod. “Very well.”
I narrowed my eyes. “What’s your endgame here?”
“I have several, learned one.”
“In regard to me.”
He stared at me for a moment, or into me as it were.
“Let us focus on the Morien Morgrave of it all, and we will converse in the aftermath.”
He snapped his fingers then and I watched as his magical scientists—three sorcerers and one sorceress—convened around an operating table, the only clean one in this hellhole. And the only one possessing brand-new, shiny restraints.Fucking great.
I drew my eyes away from them and their black robes and metal masks concealing their identities, as Remnant told me, “This procedure will be far from painless. The incision will be done magically, so you will not be cut into. However, as the necromantic cores begin to fuse with your body, there will be initial resistance and confusion, which will require adaptation. It will feel much like fire blazing through your veins. It will be harder to endure than pain normally would be for somebody like you, because before the cores can be placed within you, you’ll need to be unbound. The moment that happens, due to the state of your sickness at the time of the binding, you will immediately begin to desiccate. It will take my cohorts several minutes to transplant the cores, at which point, the desiccation will cease.”
I swallowed hard. “Got it. Explains the hefty restraints.”
“Yes. Unfortunately, there can be nothing else in your system, flowing through your veins during the procedure—no pain relievers. You must also remain conscious throughout.”
Torture then.
Well, it wouldn’t be the first time.
“Right. Let’s get to it.”
“You have no further questions or concerns that you wish to have addressed?”
It was clear what he was really asking me. “It’s not about blind trust. Alliances are rarely built on that anyway, as I’m sure you, of all people, are well aware.”
“They are built predominantly on need and endgames aligning.”
