Page 19 of Obsidian Dream
Khalida stared at Dante.“Can you give me access to Rome and the catacombs?”
A pin could have dropped in the room.Talik opened his mouth to say no but stopped himself.It wasn’t his decision.Because of Khalida’s status as head of security of House Azaes, only Dante could ask for permission for her to enter House Mneseus territory in an official or unofficial capacity.The Atlanteans had plenty of archaic rules and traditions that should have been stopped centuries before, but he was grateful for this one.He could go to Rome and find Ninhursag without Khalida, so he didn’t need to worry about drudging up old memories that should remain buried in the past.
Talik faced Dante.“And what exactly are we searching for within the catacombs?”
He didn’t want to face the wayfarers or the serpopards again.The best way to win a fight was not to get into one.
“The symbol.We found it a few hours before Idris discovered our way out.”Dante glanced at Sypha before he turned to Talik and Khalida.“And the relic from Sypha’s vision.Any information we can glean from the catacombs can be weaponized against the Anki.We need to be fast and search the area before they send in wayfarers.It can be done as a reconnaissance—covertly go in, map what you find and return.”
“No requirement to engage with anyone within the catacombs?”Khalida asked, her tone indicating that she was taking this harebrained idea seriously.
“No,” Dante agreed.
Talik opened his mouth, ready to protest the idea that he needed Khalida in Rome.Both he and Dante knew he worked better alone in these situations.Better if Kade was with him.
“I have already requested permission,” Sypha said.“The relic will be near the symbol.It is a key to finding Atlantis.”
The hairs on the back of his neck rose.Some form of premonition warning that was too late to do any good.
“I had another vision.”Sypha continued.They looked him straight in the eye, daring him to argue with them.“Khalida and Talik both need to go.If there are any remnants of what corrupted Idris still within the catacombs, it will be harder to influence the two of them because of their consort mark.”
His senses tingled.For the first time since he had known Sypha, he didn’t believe them.
Chapter Eight
KHALIDA
Left.Right.Hook.
Every time Khalida connected with the hard leather bag, a small part of her rejoiced at the pain and the blood the impact caused on her bare knuckles.It was only momentary, but it was just enough to remind her she was alive.She was fueled by a never-ending fire that was fanned by her self-loathing.Anger was better than despair and was far easier to mold into a weapon.
It had been Meraki’s cautious approach after she’d stalked out of the library that alerted her.And then it had slammed into her—every part of her body, down to her cells, had cried out in agony.She had almost, no she had—she wouldn’t show herself any mercy—forgotten what day it was tomorrow.Khalida hit the bag harder.Had all but forgotten about the ritual she’d undertaken alone every single year for more than five centuries.
She willed the pain to reverberate through her entire body—she didn’t deserve not to be in pain, for the wounds to only be temporary.She wanted the physical evidence to last as long as the emotional scars she still carried.The bag spun in circles as she landed another punch.Sand spilled out, floating to the ground as she grunted, her breath coming out in short bursts.
The encounter with Chaucer in the library had been hours ago, and if she looked through the slit windows bordered with thick black frames surrounding the entire gymnasium, she would have noticed the waning moonlight and the encroaching darkness.The beginning of an obsidian night sky.
