Page 162 of Amethyst and Iron
In a burst of deeper blackness, the one we sought appeared six feet from us.
“It has been a long time, Sylas,” he spoke.
Ambrose Wisteryn.
I took him in as he flipped down the hood of his navy cloak, the entire thing studded with black diamonds. He looked more pure demon than man, his face utterly covered with black veins, his eyes an eerie white, more like holes in his face than anything else. His straggly, long white hair cascaded down his cloak.
“Our last interaction, I believe, was me sparing your life,” I responded pointedly, should he need a reminder that he owed me.
Dearly.
He smiled with dark amusement, then looked at Ketheron. “You don’t need to glamor yourself in my presence, Polygenus Entity. All the while you remain in my magical orbit, we are cloaked—from everyone and everything.”
“I am content,” Ketheron told him, moving closer to me until his arm brushed mine, his way of bolstering me and making it clear to Ambrose that he was doing so.
I had no doubt that Ambrose could sense my current powerless state.
“It’s not my intention to harm the Master of Death Magic,” Ambrose assured Ketheron. “And believe me, I definitely don’t want to harm you.”
“I know you don’t wish to harm me,” Ketheron told him. “You tried to spare me.”
Ambrose arched an eyebrow. “You saw me there?”
“Yes.”
“You were unconscious. That is what they told me. Your eyes were open, but that was induced by magic.”
“Corvin and those scientists lied to you. They had injected me with a paralytic. I couldn’t move, couldn’t respond, nor even blink. But I was aware of everything. I saw everything, heard everything.” He shuddered. “I felt everything that they did to me.”
Fuck.My stomach roiled. I felt fucking sick.
I looked up at him, but he avoided eye contact and steeled himself as he recalled to Ambrose, “You refused to infuse me with black magic. You told Corvin that it would undermine the Celestial power they wanted to plant within me. I am now aware with the knowledge available to me as a fully-formed creation, that you told them a lie.”
“I did, yes. It would have caused you unimaginable agony. And I also did not want Corvin to be able to create a being infused with potent black magic who also had access to Celestial power. Black magic being present would have ensured that you could never exercise free will, that you would have remained under his control forevermore, and certainly not able to imprint on Ariana, which was the catalyst to you then being able to think for yourself and break free entirely.”
“And then you came back a day later. You snuck in and tried to liberate me.”
Ambrose grimaced. “Yet, I failed. And then I was siphoned by Corvin and his group of black magic users—young fools of wielders.” His gaze flicked to me. “That is what was infused into your father in order to assist with his resurrection.Mypower now fuels him.”
His?He was the most powerful black magic user in existence.
That didn’t bode well at all.
It was a fuck of a lot to go up against.
I scrubbed my hand over my face. I couldn’t actually believe it, but it was worse than I’d thought. “Motherfucker,” I groused.
“It will take your all to defeat him, Sylas. I am sorry.”
“His all? You are referring to it draining all his magical energy?” Ketheron questioned.
“Not just magical energy, I am afraid.”
“You believe he will die?”
Ambrose sighed and looked at me. “This is not just necromancer against necromancer. You are stronger than him where that is concerned. Of course, he is well aware of that fact. If you approach battle with him as a test of strength and power, you will drain yourself. You will fall with him. However, you are not just your power, are you?”
“You’re a strategist,” Ketheron said, understanding what Ambrose was getting at. “A manipulator. Lazriel said you used that well against Victor Halrow that night.”
