I couldn’t stop the tears. They came of their own will. I turned around and wiped them away before he could see. His betrayal stung deep, making each breath shaky and painful. I didn’t understand it—he could’ve kidnapped me easily before this. So why had he waited? What did he want from me? I was afraid to find out.
Fortunately, our walk continued on for several more minutes, giving me a chance to regain my composure. I buried the hurt of his betrayal as deeply as I could. I told myself there had been a real Deverell once, the man whose memories and mannerisms had created the teacher I cared about so much. That man, that first Deverell, deserved vengeance against the creature that had stolen his life.
Hatred began to build steam inside of me. It gave me focus, driving away the fear. I needed to rescue my mom and Eli, and I needed to destroy this monster behind me.
Finally, the passageway we’d been following came to an end. Deverell’s ball of light flew into the room ahead of us, and once it got there, it multiplied. Soon dozens of such lights hung over our heads, revealing a vast cavernous space. The ceiling was so tall that all I could see of it were the tips of stalactites pointed down at us like clawed, accusatory fingers.
Ahead stood a circular structure some four feet tall that at first appeared to be made of stone. I would’ve called it a wall but the description didn’t fit. It wasn’t made of sharp angles, but was perfectly round in shape, a cylinder lying on its side. I blinked, trying to make sense of it. But as I drew closer to it I realized that what I had taken for stone blocks were actually carvings in the wall … of scales.
“The Great Ouroboros,” I said, the words involuntary in the force of my astonishment.
Deverell made a noise of approval from behind me. “Yes, very good. It took me months to find it. But I knew it was down here somewhere. All the historical documents on the Iwatoke said so. I had to find it, of course. After you killed my master.”
I snorted, unable to help myself. “Your master? What is this, a Star Wars movie?”
Deverell narrowed his cool blue eyes on my face. He might be a monster, but he was no less handsome than before, a scary kind of handsome. “I am proud to call the Red Warlock master. He is worthy to be served.”
“Whoa, somebody’s been drinking the Marrow Kool-Aid real hard.”
To my surprise Deverell smiled. “Soon the whole world will feel as I do.” His smile widened, revealing perfectly white, straight teeth. “And those who don’t will be silenced forever.”
I gulped, the idea of his brainwashing no longer funny. Not when it had such real consequences. I pulled my gaze away from him and surveyed the rest of the area. My breath hitched as I spotted a distant shoreline. Black water glistened beneath the balls of light overhead. Floating in the water was an ancient-looking boat. It wasn’t the same as the barge in Eli’s dreams, but close enough to set my heart to racing.
I turned back to Deverell. “Where’s my mom? Where’s Eli?” I kept glancing at the boat, fearing his answer would involve a trip down that black river.
To my relief Deverell turned toward the Great Ouroboros and pointed. “In there, along with the Red Warlock.”
I turned my gaze to the dragon statue again, wondering what horrors awaited me inside.
“Go on,” Deverell prodded. “I’ll help you climb over.”
Dread began to beat a steady tattoo against my skull. True to its mythology, the Great Ouroboros was a singular object, with no beginning or end. There was no secret door through it, no passageway beneath it. The only way inside was to climb over, it seemed.
As Deverell had guessed, I needed help. It was too tall for me to jump and the top too high and round for me to hoist myself up. If only I’d been born a siren like Selene. Then it would’ve been easy.
For a moment, after Deverell helped me up and over it, I was alone. It would’ve been the perfect time to prepare an attack—if I’d had access to my magic, and if I hadn’t been completely shocked by the scene inside the large stone ring.
There were five low stone altars—one in the middle with the others set around it like the four points of a compass. A body lay on top of each one. On the center stone, which sat higher than the others, was Marrow. I recognized him easily—his face the same as it had ever been, the only difference the longer, unkempt beard. He was lying on his back, his eyes closed and his arms crossed over his chest. The Death’s Heart had been placed between his hands. It gave off a faint red glow that pulsated like a real heart. Sitting on the wall directly across from the altar was the black phoenix. Its red eyes were fixed on me, but it made no move to attack.
With terror twisting in my gut, I pulled my eyes away to look at the other altars. My spirits lifted as I saw Eli on the nearest one. He appeared to be asleep, but otherwise okay. Not at all like my mother lying on the next one. She was noticeably thinner and sickly pale. I rushed over to her. Dark bruises rimmed her cheekbones and the blue-black lines of veins were visible in her forehead.
I put my hand on her bare arm and flinched at the iciness of her skin. “Mom!” I shook her.
“Don’t waste the effort,” Deverell said, walking over to me. “She will not wake up so long as she is under the spell of the Death’s Heart.”
I glared up at him, tears hot in my eyes. “Take it off.” It was a stupid demand, but desperation clouded my reason.
“All in good time,” Deverell said. “And assuming you do your part.”
I dropped my gaze back to my mother. If I only knew how to break the spell myself. I tried to reach out to Bellanax with my mind, but it was hopeless without my magic. Somehow I needed to break free of Deverell’s spell and get the sword back.
With despair pressing down on me, I turned away from my mother. My eyes fell on the next altar, the one directly above Marrow. For a moment, I had no idea who was lying there, but then slowly I realized it was Bethany Grey.
She was utterly changed. The woman I’d known before had been large and strong, with mounds of extra flesh on her body, the kind of woman who would’ve looked at home in a powerlifting contest. But now, Bethany Grey had been reduced to a shell of a person. There was still extra flesh, but it hung off her bones in loose folds, as if all the muscle and fat beneath had been sucked out. Wrinkles covered her ashen skin in a thousand spiderweb cracks. Like the vision of my dead body in Eli’s dream, her eyes were sunken into her head, her face skeletal.
I covered my mouth against my revolting stomach.
Seeing my alarm, Deverell turned his attention to Bethany. He let out a long, low sigh. “It’s tragic, isn’t it? She was once such a fearsome creature.”
“You’re disgusting. You did this to her.” Bethany Grey had been a horrible person, who’d done horrible things, but she didn’t deserve this. No one did. This was the very worst suffering I’d ever seen anyone endure. She’d been wasted away to nothing by the Death’s Heart.
“Wrong,” Deverell said, placing his hands on his hips. “Bethany did this to herself. Oh, I put the spell on her, to be sure, but she earned her place. In fact, when I helped her escape the Rush, she surrendered to the Death’s Heart’s magic willingly. She failed the Red Warlock. You and your mother should never have been able to defeat him. Bethany understood she was the weak link. She failed him in life, but has repaid him in her death. She has made the ultimate sacrifice to our master.”
“That’s sick.” I pointed at Marrow. “He’s already lived dozens of lives. He didn’t even deserve the first one.”
“You’re wrong. He deserves all we have to give him.”
I shook my head. “So is that why you killed Titus? Did he fail Marrow in some way?”
“Not exactly. Titus’s sin was that he presumed himself to be as great as Marrow. I couldn’t allow him to continue.” Deverell turned and motioned to the fourth altar. “But like Bethany, Paul was also there when you defeated my master. He, too, owes a death, but he is so young still. I decided to give him a second chance, but sadly he failed once more.”
My head buzzed with alarm, and I jerked my gaze toward the last altar. Paul was lying there in the same unconscious pose as the others. I hurried over to him, afraid that he wouldn’t be far behind Bethany. But when my eyes fell on him fully, I saw that he was hardly more drained than Eli.
“How long has he been like this?” I turned to Deverell.
He thought about it a moment, doing a mental calculation. “Six days. He’s been working for me all along, you know. From the moment he first revealed himself to you in the infirmary. I needed your help, you see. Or more specifically, what you call the Dream Team’s help. I’d been trying to take out Corvus for months now. I’ve been able to stay ahead of him, but he was closing in. I couldn’t risk going to his house on my own. If he’d discovered me, I would’ve had to find a new disguise, and that takes planning and more time than I could afford. But the investigation you launched against him proved the perfect cover.”
I felt the color leach from my face. Paul had been involved in all the evidence we discovered. He’d hacked Valentine’s files. He could have altered the contents before handing them over. It was Paul’s idea for us to go to Corvus’s house. It was Paul who gave me the shape-change necklace and insisted only I could go to Corvus’s house with him.
But no, I refused to just take this man’s word on it. Deverell was a master of deception. “Why would Paul have helped you? He turned his back on Marrow after he learned that Titus was one of his supporters.”
“Did he now?” Deverell arched a single eyebrow. “Are you sure?”
I wanted to rip the mocking expression from his face.
“The thing about Paul,” Deverell said, crossing his arms over his chest, “is that he craves freedom and acceptance above all else. These are the two things his uncle denied him for so long. But Paul is not stupid. He knows that given his history the only way he will ever be free is when Marrow is in control. The Magi Senate will never trust him enough to leave him unattended. He found that out quite well in the months after Marrow’s defeat.”
The room seemed to spin around me. I remembered how sincere Paul had been when he told me he would do anything to avoid being imprisoned once more. At the time, I’d thought he meant that he was on the straight and narrow path. Except with his Will Guard monitors and the need for the shape-change necklace, he was more a prisoner than ever.
The realization turned my blood to ice water. “If Paul is working for you, then why is he like this?” I motioned to his unconscious body, tears threatening again, angry ones this time.
“He had a last minute change of heart,” Deverell said. “He started questioning me at every turn, doubting my decisions. I knew it was only a matter of time before he weakened. It all started when he and I brought your mother down here. I think it was because the two of you look so much alike.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
Deverell rolled his eyes. “As if you don’t know. Paul is in love with you. You might be the one thing he wants almost as much as his freedom and autonomy. Of course, again, he’s not stupid. He knows you don’t love him in return, but feelings like that are a sort of sickness. The heart has a way of corrupting the mind. I knew it was just a matter of time before he was tempted to tell you the truth, so I took the option away from him.”
I gritted my teeth. “So now you are the one denying him his freedom.”
Deverell shrugged. “I could’ve just killed him instead. Would that have been better? It certainly would’ve been easier than having to pretend I was him all day, if I had done the true shift on him.”
“No kidding,” I said. “You sucked at being him.” Outwardly, I sounded brave, but inside my fear was spreading like an epidemic. He could’ve killed Paul—and eaten his heart. He could’ve done it to Eli or my mom.
He could do it to me and no one would ever know. They’ll never find me down here.
Deverell laughed. “It was good enough to fool you for a while. The mission to Corvus’s house was a success.” He reached into his pocket and withdrew a silver ring.
“You stole that?”
“Oh, yes. This ring was the main reason I’ve had Paul working so hard to get you there. Corvus kept it in a safe in the kitchen. Took us a long time to figure out the location and combination.”
“What is it?”
“Invincibility.” Deverell reached into his other pocket and withdrew two more rings, one golden and the other the dark dull color of iron. He placed the silver ring with the other two. Then he closed his fingers around them.
Magic stirred in the air. There was a faint tinkling sound, and then Deverell opened his hand once more. The three rings were now linked into one. He held it up, and I saw that together they made the Borromean rings—the symbol of magickind united. If the silver ring belonged to Marrow, I wondered if the other two had once belonged to his Borromean brothers, now dead.
I shivered, sensing the power in the rings the same way that I sensed it in Bellanax. “That makes someone invincible?”
“As near as it is possible to be.” Deverell aligned the three rings into one and then slid it onto his right index finger. With a look of triumph he clasped his hands together and turned his attention fully to me. “It’s now time for your part.” Deverell reached into his pocket once more and this time he pulled out my silver bracelet.
I inhaled, jealousy and fear warring for dominance inside of me. I wanted Bellanax back. Right now. For a second I wanted it more than anything else, even saving my mother and Eli.
Unaware of my inner struggle, Deverell took off the glamour on the sword. Bellanax appeared in his hand, the runes on the blade winking in the lights floating overhead.
He turned the sword over, examining it from all sides. “Do you know much about sword lore, Dusty?”
I shook my head. “Lady Elaine says most of the lore has been lost.”
Deverell clucked his tongue. “So it has, like so many things. I didn’t know much about it myself, either, but I’ve since learned. It appears that some swords, the most powerful ones, have the ability to steal the souls of those they kill. A bit like the Death’s Heart, actually.”
Mr. Corvus’s words came back to me—soul magic. A deeper, darker fear began to spread through me now.
“Only for most swords, the soul-stealing happens only during the first kill,” Deverell continued, turning Bellanax over to examine the other side. “It was for this reason that a young swordsman in possession of a newly made sword would often seek out the most powerful being he could find to kill first. That’s how this sword became a numen vessel in the first place. The very first person to possess the sword all those centuries ago sought out the most powerful magickind of the age, and killed him with it.”
Bellanax, I thought. Had it been a person once? A magickind, slain by the sword’s first owner and trapped inside it forever?
“Marrow became its owner not long after,” Deverell said, walking over to the center altar. I followed him, reluctantly. “He made it what it is now. He possessed the sword up until the time you killed him.”
I flinched. It was true—I had killed him, stabbed him with his own sword; I’d done it to save my mom, Eli, Selene, myself. But I suddenly felt unclean, soiled by the sword and its bloodthirsty history.
“But a strange thing happened then.” Deverell shifted the sword in his hands, turning it sideways where he cupped the blade with his other hand. “The sword had never been used against Marrow before, never on a man who can be killed but who cannot die. All the other times Marrow had been killed before, the sword remained safe from his attackers, the bond unbroken. But when you used his own sword on him, you trapped him in it. His soul—his vital essence—should have stayed tethered to his body long enough for the phoenix to reclaim him. Instead, you sliced it free and the sword pulled him in. Marrow has been trying to get out ever since.”
I felt my knees go weak and I started to sway on my feet. Memories raced through my mind of all the times the sword had spoken to me, of the way it had shared spells with me. It’s intelligence and liveliness had been so far above other numen bonds, nothing at all like Eli and his wand.
Marrow, I thought. It had been Marrow all along. Or had it? Bellanax was in there, too. Wasn’t it?
“It took me a very long time to figure it out,” Deverell said, drawing my attention back to him. “I’d done everything right to revive Marrow. He trained me well what to do if he was killed. I sought out the Great Ouroboros, knowing he would need its power to speed up the process, and the black phoenix performed its part—resurrecting his body with its magic. Everything seemed to be working, but Marrow would not wake up. I performed nousdesmos with him and there was nothing there. He was an empty shell.”
Deverell paused, his gaze dropping to Marrow for a moment. Then he looked back at me again. “I’d started to believe he might really be gone this time—that you had done the impossible and defeated him. But then you came to me for help, and I noticed the block on your mind. Marrow told me once it had been the same for him when he first claimed the sword. He did not know its name, but oh how he wanted to.”
Just like me. My muscles clenched.
“At first, I thought you bonding with the sword was evidence that Marrow was truly gone,” Deverell continued. “But I refused to give up hope. Not until I had a chance to see the sword myself. The Magi Senate had hidden it away. I knew I had to help you get past the block and complete the bond. After you saved Lyonshold, while you were lying unconscious, I convinced Lady Elaine to let me examine you and the sword. It was easy once she learned all I’d done to help you.” He paused, drawing a deep breath. “But the moment I touched it, I knew my master was not dead. I felt him there, dormant but no less powerful. It was then I realized what I needed to do to bring him back.”
I thought I might be sick, shame burning in my belly. I’d fallen for it, fallen for everything. I’d been so easy to manipulate, so willing to trust.
“But all this had taken a long time,” Deverell said. “Without its spirit, my master’s body began to decay. I had no choice but to steal the Death’s Heart to keep that part of him alive. And now, it’s time for you to make him whole again.” Deverell held the sword out to me.
“What am I supposed to do?” I didn’t make a move toward the sword, even though every instinct I possessed was telling me to take it back. It belonged to me; we belonged together.
“It’s simple.” Deverell motioned toward Marrow. “I want you to kill him with it again.”
Kill him? My stomach clenched. I shifted my gaze to Marrow. Asleep he didn’t look at all scary, not how I knew he would be once restored to full life. This was a man bent on dominating the world. How could I willingly set him free? Assuming it would even work. The very notion that death would bring life seemed ludicrous.
“Come on now, Dusty. A deal is a deal,” Deverell said, taking a step closer to me. “Once I restore Marrow to his full self, I will let you, your mother, and Eli go.”
I clenched my teeth, knowing against all hope that he was lying. The last time I’d faced Marrow he’d made it quite clear that he couldn’t let a pair of dream-seers live, not if we weren’t using our powers for him. Deverell wouldn’t be any different.
I looked away from him, down at Marrow. There had to be some way. There was always a way, wasn’t there?
Bellanax. My eyes fixed on the sword. It was The Will sword, the most powerful magical object in existence. And Deverell was offering it back to me. He believed I would do it, that I would use the sword on Marrow to save my loved ones. But he was forgetting something crucial. While Marrow might have corrupted the sword’s magic from the inside, on the outside, it was still a sword—a weapon designed for killing.
Oh, I would use it all right.
On him.
I closed my eyes for a moment, summoning all my courage. I would have to be quick. No hesitation. We were standing close enough I could reach him easily with that three feet of steel.
“Okay,” I said. “Give it to me.”
A confident smile snaked across Deverell’s face as he handed the sword over.
My fingers closed around the hilt, and something clicked inside me, the reassurance of my bond with Bellanax. The sword surged to life, and its power began to flow into me. My own trapped magic didn’t matter. With this sword in my hands, I was invincible once more. All my fears drained away. Bellanax was here with me. To serve me, to defend and protect.
But then another power reared up in the sword, something dark and equally strong—Marrow.
The two powers struggled for dominance. For a moment, I was certain Bellanax would win, but in the next I sensed the dark power expanding, forcing out the light. I started to let go of the hilt, but I wasn’t fast enough. In an instant, the sword’s power turned against me—and took over. It was a feeling I’d experienced before. Once on Lyonshold and once in Deverell’s classroom. Possession.
No. I fought against it, eyes squeezed shut. But it was like trying to stand in a rushing river. Without my own magic to cling to, my mind and will bent toward Marrow’s. Inch by inch the sword turned me away from Deverell and toward Marrow’s body, lying prone just ahead.
I shifted the sword in my hand, pointing the blade downward. My gaze fell on the Red Warlock. His face was waxy in his long sleep, his body close to lifeless.
I raised the hilt of the sword above my head, and then with one mighty thrust, I drove it down, burying the blade in Marrow’s chest.
There was a loud burst of power as the sword connected with the Red Warlock. Magic exploded outward, making the ground shake and the walls tremble. Bits of rocks sprayed down from the ancient ceiling in a haze of dust. The black phoenix launched into the air, seeking a safer perch.
I barely noticed. The sword was vibrating in my hands, making my whole body shake. Something was wrong. I could sense the sword’s fear—the real Bellanax, the true heart of the sword and numen vessel.
I tried to pull the sword out, to save it, but the blade shattered.
There was another explosion of magic, and Bellanax’s presence in my mind vanished. I held the hilt in my hand, but several inches above the cross guard, the blade ended in a jagged, diagonal line of shorn steel. The Will sword, the sword of power and ancient magic, indestructible and infallible, was broken.
My eyes dropped to the body beneath me. One moment my heart pounded painfully against my breastbone, as if it were trying to force its way out, and in the next it stopped beating all together. The air in my lungs left me in a scream loud enough to make the walls tremble again.
It wasn’t Marrow lying on the altar beneath me.
It was Eli.
He was awake, eyes open, and mouth twisted in a grimace of pain. Blood was spreading over his chest where the sword had pierced him, where even now half of Bellanax’s blade remained.