Ghost Silk (Ghost Perfume, Book 2) | ✔

7 - Crown me - Part 3 (Alexander; Rose)

I saw that one of Aidon's starved hands was broken, practically mangled.

He must have broken his hand in order to free himself of a chain.

His melodious voice, heavy with the honeyed side of sun-priest persuasion, carried through the space. "Please listen to me. I'm here to talk to you. I'm no threat."

"Where are Imogen's people? Someone –" a voice muttered near me.

"Put him away," said someone else.

"We kept track of the time, even as we were kept in the dark. We know your peace contracts are almost up," Aidon said. His lips were dry and broken. "I'm here to tell you clearly that you made no true peace. You merely swapped one set of victims for another. Don't fool yourselves that the ghosts don't suffer. Don't deceive yourselves that the worms aren't growing restless on a diet they didn't choose. Don't pretend that you can have everything you want while you keep us imprisoned. We must talk again as equals to –"

His dark eyes flashed as two of Imogen's people strode through the crowd towards him. He took stumbling steps away from them, running into Michael, who had come to the edge of the crowd, and now stepped forward with his hand outstretched.

"Aidon," Michael said.

"You," Aidon choked out. "You."

He trembled all over. Michael's hand hovered over his forearm, but didn't touch him.

"Aidon," Michael repeated, and said something in a very low voice, that even we couldn't hear.

"You," Aidon said in an anguished voice. The honey had been poisoned from his tone. He lunged forward, grasping with his good hand the front of Michael's cape and crushing the fine fabric in bony fingers and long, filthy nails. "You're looking good, Michael!"

Michael said something else in a near-silent voice as the two soldiers came to capture Aidon. The sun priest struggled pathetically, but they dragged him past the archway and out of sight.

"His hand, Imogen," Michael said.

"I saw. We'll send him healers," Imogen said. "Although the fool did it to himself."

"What nonsense he said," Santiago said, dragging a hand down his face. "But I forgot how even nonsense makes sense in a priest's golden tongue, doesn't it?"

Someone laughed. Paulina snapped her fingers, and servants began hurrying around as the music restarted.

Not everyone was relaxing. The white-faced dancer I'd noticed now had a hand over his mouth. Another dancer, a delicate girl, had her arm around him as she also stared after where the priest had been taken. 

I guessed most people had forgotten about the existence of the priests.

Michael turned on his heel and strode towards one of the balconies. The crowd parted eagerly before his cold aura.

My skin was crawling with the need to be alone, and the knuckles of my right hand begged for a wall to hit. I didn't know why. Not that it mattered. I swallowed down the tension and followed my eldest brother.

Noise increased around us as people began talking again. I saw people shaking their heads. I saw relief.

Gabriel had already joined Michael on the balcony. They stood at the railing, looking down into the deepening twilight.

The air was cooler here.

Lukas came in right behind me, his coat incorrectly buttoned and his hair mussed. "How the hell did he escape and make it here?" he asked.