The Curse of the Blessed

Chapter Twenty-Seven

A soft squeak came from Lark, who stared at the wall as though she could see straight through it to where Reed was approaching the Magician.

Bran put a hand on her shoulder. "Lark?"

"Yes?"

"We need to get going. I don't know how much time Reed's going to be able to buy us."

She turned away from the wall and nodded.

"Fyra," said Bran, "can we trust you with the knot of the rope? You'll have to lead."

"Sure," I said.

My voice came out so quiet I wasn't sure he'd heard, but he simply handed me the rope. I wrapped it around us, then made the knot, so that we were all loosely tied together like a bundle of firewood.

"Are you ready?" I asked, looking back to see them.

They weren't there. Neither was the rope.

For a moment my heart seemed to freeze in my chest, sending a bolt of adrenaline through me that was like nothing I'd ever felt before—and then Lark said, "Yes."

I took a deep, calming breath. I began to walk forward. It went against all my instincts. A little voice inside my head began to scream, telling me to run, to hide, to do anything to stop from going in this direction. I ignored it and continued toward the light at the end of the tunnel, where the Magician's tiny figure was visible. Every once in a while, I ran my fingers over the knot to make sure it was still intact.

Reed was much closer to us than he was to the Magician. He strode forward at a slow, steady pace, neither rushing nor lingering.

"So," said the Magician. "Your friends have sent you out to fight me in their stead. That's brave."

Reed tilted his head to one side, and I could imagine his expression—slightly cocky, entirely sure of himself. "Actually, it was my idea."

"Was it? Some friends, then, to let you go through with it."

"I'm the most powerful of them all."

Beside me, Bran scoffed. I shot him a warning glance before remembering that he would not be able to see it.

"So you've come to defeat me? Or to join me?"

"I don't know," said Reed, voice thoughtful. "What are you offering?"

"Revenge."

"So you keep saying. But I can get revenge fine on my own. No, what are you offering that I can't get for myself? What's special about you?"

The Magician chuckled. "Oh, Reed. You're stalling for time. I know you are. What, do you think I'm an idiot?"

We were almost past Reed now, and Lark reached out to gently brush his hand. His eyes searched the air for us. I touched my knot, worried that it had come undone. But then, with a satisfied smile, he continued toward the Magician.

"Maybe you are," he said. "What would I be stalling for? Are you saying there's a way out of the tunnels?"

"Yes."

"Really? Where?"

The Magician spread his arms in a welcoming gesture. "Right this way! You've found it."

"Ah," said Reed, disappointment in his tone. "So there is no other way out."

"Not that I know of."

"You built this place."

"Yes, I did. But that was all so long ago. I barely remember it anymore. Rage and fury burned through me, and I thought it would consume me if I let it stay there, so instead I used it to carve through stone. It worked like a dream."