“Hellhound saliva is corrosive enough to melt steel,” he explains. “I’ve seen a few drops burn a hole through a foot of concrete. You’re lucky William was home.” He places the last bit of gauze and the other loose roll on the nightstand. “The rest will be healed by morning.”
“How is that possible?”
“We’re really doing this?”
“Yes,” I whisper. “Please.”
He scoffs. “This type of ignorance is how Pages get hurt or killed. What you saw in the sky was mage flame. A byproduct of aether, an element in the air that only some people can see and fewer still can manipulate. Different Legendborn use aether to do different things. Some create constructs like weapons, armor, shields. William uses it to accelerate healing.”
That name again. Their healer. Someone who helped me even though he doesn’t know me. Sudden shame washes over me in a wave. Nick rescued me, made sure my injuries were treated, and I’d just antagonized him. “Thanks,” I finally murmur, “for helping me. And thank William.”
He looks me over again and notes the tremor in my fingers. His face turns patient and open. “I’ll let him know. But if you’re looking for a thank-you gift, I’m a fan of honesty.”
I struggle for words. “I just wanted to know what I saw. What I’m seeing,” I say softly. The memory of the other Merlin from the hospital rises—and immediately turns sour. The flashback threatens to take me in front of this boy that I don’t know. I need that memory. And I will use it. But I can’t let it have me. Not now. Instead, I strengthen my wall and wrap myself around the easier facts. “Last night at the Eno Quarry, I saw something. Flickering light in the shape of a flying… thing. Sel and Tor were there. Sel did something to me and these guys to make us forget and walk away. His mesmer, I guess? But after a minute, it didn’t work anymore. I hid. Then Sel and Tor—”
“Wait.” Nick’s hand shoots up. “Say that again.”
“Sel and Tor—”
He waves his hand impatiently. “No, no, before that.”
“Sel did something to make me leave and forget, but after a minute it didn’t work on me?”
“Yeah, that part. Not possible, Pageling. Mesmered memories don’t come back.” His eyes fill with an emotion I can’t read. “Believe me, I’d know.”
I shrug, picking at the edge of the sheet. “Well, sorry,” I say, copying his condescending tone, “but that’s what happened, Legendborn.”
Nick examines my face. He looks at me for so long and the room is so silent that I’m certain he can hear my heartbeat quicken. His eyes drop to my mouth, my chin, my hands still shaking on my lap. He sucks in a sharp breath. “You’re—you’re serious, aren’t you? About everything. You aren’t a Northern or Western spy.”
“No.”
“But if you can break Sel’s mesmer, then he’d…” Nick stops, his eyes wide as dinner plates, the color draining from his face with some understanding about me that I don’t follow.
I shove myself upright as my adrenaline spikes. “Then he’d what?”
“WHERE IS HE?”
We both jump when a voice booms, the shout echoing outside the room and down what sounds like a long hallway.
Nick’s attention flies to the door, tension singing through his frame. “Shit.”
Another door slams. Hurried footsteps, and another, calmer voice intercepts the first. “Sel, wait—”
Nick glances rapidly between me and the door. “Listen to me. I assumed you were one of us at first, but if you’re telling me the truth right now and you’re not, then no matter what happens when he comes in here, do not let Sel know his mesmer failed. He’s going to try again, and you need to let him. You understand me?”
A second slam, closer this time. “No! Wha—”
“I need you to trust me,” Nick hisses. I stare, speechless, and he shakes my shoulder to get my attention. “Do you understand?”
“Yes!”
“Stay here.” Without another word, he jogs to the door, opening it and closing it behind him.
I do not stay there.
I throw the covers off the bed. Across the room, my sneakers are perched on a stately-looking armchair. I make a beeline toward them and shove them on, but when I stand up, a wave of dizziness sends me slumping against the leather.
Sel’s cold, measured tones reach me from just outside the door. “The prodigal son returns. And with such flare.” He’s so close. Too close. My eyes dart to the open window, and I heave myself off the chair to get to it even though the floor threatens to rise up with every step. “Did you even kill it, Davis?”
“Yes, I killed it.” Nick’s voice is a taut wire ready to snap. “You want to inspect the blood on my blade?”
Sel doesn’t miss a beat. “Perhaps if you weren’t so busy playing Onceborn, leaving us to do the dirty work, you’d know that I should have been called immediately to find its Gate and close it. Or do you want more hellhounds coming through from the other side?”
I reach the window and curse silently. I’m three stories up. Wherever this museum house is, it’s surrounded by a dense forest. Even if I were on the first floor and felt steady enough to climb out, there’d be nowhere to go.
“Do you want me to pause mid-battle to send a text? What are the emojis for a hellhound? Fire, then dog?”
There’s a quick shuffle, and the third voice intervenes again. “This is not helpful! Sel, you closed the Gate. Nick destroyed the hound. That’s all that matters.”
“That is not all that matters, William. This is the fifth attack in a week. They are escalating. And getting stronger. Just last night I tracked a near-corporeal isel miles from the nearest Gate. It is my job to protect this chapter,” Sel growls. “Just as it is my job to clean up your mess tonight. William says I’m needed here?”
“She’s a human being, Sel.” I wonder if Nick is stalling, but his voice sounds too weary. Too familiar with this argument.
“She’s Onceborn,” Sel retorts. Something about the way he says “Onceborn” makes me flinch, and I don’t even know what the word means. “How did she even get wounded?”
“It was partial-corp. She was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“A partial-corp demon, capable of hunting—and harming—human flesh. Wonderful. And then you brought her here. Lovely.”
“Would you rather I left her on the ground, blacked out from pain?”
“Of course not. Her injuries would raise far too many questions.”
“That’s your only concern, isn’t it? The Code of Secrecy. Not that an innocent was injured!”
“The Line is Law, Nicholas.” Sel’s voice is low, dangerous. “Our Oaths come first!”
“Gentlemen!” William shouts. “Speaking of the Code, may I remind you both that these walls are not soundproofed. The more you argue outside this door, the more Sel will need to erase.”
My heartbeat speeds from a gallop to a full-on jackhammer sprint.
“Thank you, William, for that reminder.” The knob turns, and Sel sweeps into the room, face full of thunder. When his eyes fasten to mine, his forehead furrows slightly in surprise. “You.”