“The true monsters,” Uriah boomed, “are you and your tainted ilk. I built this town so that it would serve the purposes of man and man alone. Look at what these mountains have become. First witches, and now werewolves, vampires, valkyrie? It is strange, alien, unnatural. No. Silveropolis was made for man and man alone.”
I squinted at Uriah, glancing around at the others. I muttered loud enough for them to hear. “Are you guys listening to this fucker? I didn’t think he’d be this big of a bigot, but here we are.” I straightened myself up, raising my sword again. “Time marches on, Uriah. It’s called progress. We’ve learned to live among humanity without doing t
hem harm. Why can’t you leave well enough alone?”
Uriah shook his fist, his corpse dancing in a grotesque pirouette. “You have no right to question my principles, you wretched creature.”
Olivia held a calming hand out towards the ghost of her ancestor, who, to my surprise, immediately cowed, the blue flame of his spirit wavering and dimming ever so slightly.
“What Grandfather means is that the people of Silveropolis would be much happier without the constant dangers of the supernatural lurking in every corner. You do understand, don’t you, Sterling? Having your kind in town puts our neighbors at quite the risk.”
I threw one hand up in frustration, tempted to flip both of them off. “There was no danger here until Uriah started sending out his monster mastiffs to eat people’s fucking faces off.”
She stiffened. “Well, that was only to punish them for failing at such a simple task.”
“Was that really how you saw Timothy? As just another pawn to further your goals? Humanity doesn’t even know about us. They have nothing to fear.”
“They have everything to fear from you,” Olivia shouted, her hands shaking as they grasped the journal. “You are a threat to us all. You just don’t know it yet.”
I could tell that she believed in Uriah. She thought, with every fiber of her being, that he was right. Faith could be a frightening thing, but I’d never seen faith quite so blind.
“And here you are, arbiters of justice, champions of the clean and mighty, turning to fucking demons to do your dirty work for you. Don’t you see any of the irony in this, Olivia? You’re hypocrites. Turn away from this. You don’t have to help Uriah. It’s not too late.”
“No,” she said, squaring her shoulders. “No. Grandfather rises with the blood moon, and the cleansing will commence with its coming.” She flipped open the journal, her eyes hard and black as she scanned the pages. That wasn’t hyperbole. Her eyes really had turned solid black.
“Fuck my life,” Bastion said. “She’s continuing the ritual. They’re going to summon something, and soon.”
The grass inside the circle had already been tinged bloody red from the moon, but now it was turning the same black as Olivia’s eyes.
Bastion raised his hand, his fingers grasping at the air. I might have cared to stop him one night ago, but at this point it didn’t matter to me if he planned to pop her head off her neck or crush it like a grape. I wasn’t that desperate for a thrall, especially one who approved of genocide.
But Olivia raised her hand in retaliation. A beam of black pulsed from the center of her palm, throwing Bastion across the clearing. His eyes went huge with surprise as he flew. Then his back struck the trunk of a tree, the awful sound of the impact cracking through the woods. His lashes fluttered, and he collapsed, unconscious.
“Holy shit,” I shouted. Bastion wasn’t my favorite person, but I didn’t want the guy dead. Asher made a mad dash for him, his hands already wreathed in green fire as he prepared a healing spell.
“We must stop her,” Tabitha shouted, her finger thrusting towards the earth. “Bramble wall.”
Thorns and vines rushed out of the grass, closing in on Olivia. This time she didn’t even react. She only shut her eyes, and the low hedge of prickly death approaching her simply withered into brown and black dust.
Uriah’s laughter echoed through the woods. “You see how my own blood uses your vile magics against you? Just this once. Just tonight. And when this is ended, we turn our backs on your taint forever. Now, sweet Olivia. Call him.”
I sped across the clearing, sword drawn. Olivia didn’t even acknowledge me coming. I slammed into an invisible wall, pulses of black light gleaming where I made impact. My sword flew from my hand. I crumpled to the ground, muscles aching, bones rattled.
Olivia raised her head to the clouds. The ends of her hair lifted above her head, floating, as if in water.
“Glasya-Labolas,” she shouted. “Come forth.”
Damn it.
31
The circle widened, the black ring of grass expanding, killing any plant life it came in contact with. What had previously been distant strains of music sounded so much closer this time, the drums and flutes seeming to emanate from the ground itself. The earth was trembling, too. Par for the course. Something big was coming, and it was coming fast.
I dragged myself to my feet, retrieving my sword and rushing back to join the others, far away from the circle. Everything still ached, but I’d be close to fighting condition soon enough. In a different situation, knowing that Olivia could use force blasts and erect arcane shields would have been a massive turn-on. But again, the murderous tendencies were an enormous dealbreaker.
Olivia’s offering of fruit remained mysteriously untouched by the withering plague, still brightly colored and fresh. That is, until the bottom suddenly fell out of the earth. Grass, dirt, fruit alike fell into the sinkhole, swallowed to the tune of ominous growling and groaning. From deep inside it, I thought I heard sounds of snarling, chewing, something with huge jaws eating its sacrifices.
Uriah Everett, his corpse, and the disembodied faces remained hovering above the pit, suspended there by an unearthly force. His expression was one of calm, a serene understanding that things were going entirely according to plan. I couldn’t wait to cut the smile off his smug face.