“Release the girl,” she orders. Beyond her, the creature’s body is still shifting and making unsettling scraping noises.
I back up, dragging the poor shifter along with me. Unfortunately, the lit passage is close to the priestess’s…whatever that thing is.
The priestess takes a step toward me. “Witch, you have one last warning: release the shifter.”
Something is obviously really wrong here. Something more than just shady.
Something evil.
I messed up by being here in the first place, and I messed up again by not stepping in sooner. But over my dead body is this creep of a woman touching the girl.
My expression hardens as I look at her. “No.”
The priestess draws in a long breath. Then, spreading her hands like she’s encompassing the room, she says, “Sisters, Creature, get me the wolf.”
The entire room of masked figures charges me.
My fear spikes—
Empress, what is going on? I could swear Memnon’s voice sounds alarmed, but maybe those are my own emotions talking.
I swing around with the girl and rush us toward the tunnel I was eyeing.
The girl is tripping over her feet, and I’m dragging her more than anything, and if something doesn’t change fast, those witches and that…that…monstrosity are going to catch us.
With that panicked thought, I funnel my magic into my hand.
“Explode,” I whisper, and then I toss the magical grenade behind me.
BOOM!
The girl and I are thrown forward as the earth bucks, and the blast hits our back. Screams sound from behind me, and I grunt as I take on the full weight of the shifter, the two of us slamming into the ground.
Empress, what is happening!
That…didn’t go as planned.
I scramble back to my feet, hauling the girl up with me. I knock away my skewed mask, finally able to see my surroundings better. Singed wisps of peach-colored smoke waft through the air.
I glance down at my companion. One look at her dazed expression, and I know she’s not going to be able to run. And I don’t stand a chance fighting over a dozen people and a monster.
Only one option left.
I close my eyes, calling on my power. “Magic, magic, make me strong. Help me carry this girl far…and long.”
All right, not my best rhyme, but fuck it, it’ll do.
Power rushes down my arms and legs. I feel it winding about my lungs and pumping through my heart.
I sweep the girl off her feet, and cradling her in my arms, I run.
CHAPTER 27
The tunnel we enter is small and dank. The walls here are bare earth, and the marble gives way to flagstone. There are lit candles—probably from when the others passed through, and I just go off the assumption that if I follow the candlelight, it’ll lead me out. I have to assume that’s what’ll happen. If I’m wrong…
Can’t think about that.
As I’m running, I second-guess myself again. Maybe I overreacted back there. Maybe I saw a little blood and dark magic and blew everything out of proportion.
But my intuition is telling me I read the situation correctly. That something violent and bad was going on. Something I almost got duped into completing.
That spell the priestess had been uttering, why did it sound so familiar…？
Behind me, I hear the distant footfalls of my pursuers. Crap, they’re truly giving chase.
They haven’t caught up to me yet, but who knows how long that will last. I’m carrying another entire human being, and despite the power boost my magic is giving me, I don’t think I’ll have an edge for long.
Can’t think about that either.
In front of me, the tunnel branches off. Following the light, I turn right.
My black robe keeps tangling around my legs, and in my arms, the girl’s head lolls.
I hope she’s all right.
My eyes fix on the smear of blood on the shifter’s forehead, and the priestess’s incantation comes back to me.
With blood I bind. With bone I break. Only through death shall I at last forsake.
A chill snakes down my spine.
A binding spell.
That’s why the priestess’s incantation sounded familiar. She was performing a binding spell. The horror of it is only now hitting me.
There are natural bonds, like those of soul mates and familiars. Those require no spells. Their magic is innate; it initiates and executes the binding all on its own.
Other types of bonds require spells, and they can be consensual or—the shifter whimpers in my arms again—not.
“I see her!” a feminine voice shouts from behind me. I hear what sounds like a whole stampede of witches pounding down the hallway after us.