Thief of Lies (22 page)

“You have seen it.” Conemar crinkled his brows together. The right one shot up higher than the other as he studied my non-poker face. His face was familiar, but I knew I’d never met him before. Or had I?

I concentrated on keeping my palm lifted and the globe up. “Are you cracked?” I choked out. But I was weakening and the globe was slipping. My insides churned and I struggled to ignore my growing panic and stay focused.

His hand tightened around my throat again. Long fingernails dug into my skin. He frowned. “I can’t kill you. I need you. But it doesn’t mean I won’t cause you great pain.”

As I started to pass out, Bastien sprung to his feet, knocking my arm and causing the membrane to bust. My globe must have countered the stun on Bastien. He tackled Conemar, plucking his grip from my throat. I fell to my knees, gasping. Tears stung my eyes and my neck burned where Conemar’s nails dug into my skin.

My anger gave me the strength to push to my feet. I pulled my sword from its sheath, fuming. Bastien had Conemar pinned to the floor. Struggling to breathe and too weak to hold Conemar, Bastien lost his grip and rolled over gasping. I rushed over, placing the point of my sword to Conemar’s throat before he could get up. I glared down at him. “How does it feel to be cornered?” I pressed the point against his neck. A drop of blood beaded from his skin. “It sucks, doesn’t it?”

Conemar smirked. “Go ahead, kill me, and you’ll never see your father again.”

“Do you mean Carrig?” I spat. “I don’t even know him.”

Conemar paled. “Well then, kill me, if you have the nerve.” He tilted his head and light refracted against his face, again illuminating familiar-looking features and causing me to take a step back. Who was I? This wasn’t me. I couldn’t kill someone.
I can’t do this.
My hand shook and I almost lost the grip on my sword.

“I knew you hadn’t the heart for it,” Conemar said, scrambling to his feet.

Bastien had regained his breath and dived for Conemar.

A massive hound jumped up on the table beside us, and under its weight, the table crashed to the floor. I spun and lunged at it with my sword. I pushed hard to get the blade to pierce the creature’s neck. It was like pushing a toothpick into leather. I yanked the sword out and stabbed the hound again. It howled and dropped to the floor. I slumped, bile burning my throat.
I could kill.
The fear shook me. I wanted out of this nightmare.

A black globe landed at my feet and dark smoke exploded from its sphere, blinding me as it rolled over my head and engulfed the room. The sulfur smell was overwhelming. Bastien and Conemar scuffled somewhere within the smoke screen. Bastien grunted.

“Bastien!” I called out.

“I’m fine,” he answered back. “Keep alert. I lost Conemar.”

“Retreat!” Conemar yelled from within the smoke.

An explosion knocked me to my knees, whipping my hair across my face. The blast dispersed the smoke. As I gasped for air, Demos threw another wind globe, which cleared the other side of the room. Through the thinned smoke, I spotted Conemar searching the gateway book.

He readied to jump. I willed my pink globe to life and threw it in Conemar’s direction, hoping it would distract him. My anger made the globe soar. Just as the globe was about to hit Conemar, Kale stepped into its path as he charged after Conemar and it popped against his body.

Conemar rolled sizzling electric currents between his hands until an orb of energy formed. Kale raised his palm and spoke the charm to ignite his globe. Static zapped above his palm, but nothing formed. He looked at Conemar, and back to his palm, a quizzical expression twisting his face.

Lei drove her sword into a Writhe that blocked her way to Kale. She jerked her blade free, and the Writhe collapsed at her feet.

A sinister grin spread across the wizard’s lips as he cocked his hand back to fire the charge at Kale.

“No!” I screamed.

Before Lei reached Kale, Conemar shot the electric bolt into him, and Kale slumped to the floor. Lei dropped beside him and dragged him into her arms. Arik turned his fire globe into a whip and lashed it out at Conemar.

Veronique slid in front of him and blocked the whip with her shield, sparks ricocheting off metal. Using the distraction, Conemar plunged into the gateway book, the disturbing smile still plastered on his face. Veronique sailed in after him. Several cloaked figures followed. The rest of his men lay dead or injured on the floor. A few of Bastien’s guards were among the dead.

My breath froze in my chest and I stood there stunned. My heart pounded in my ears, drowning out all the noises around me. I’d never seen a dead body in real life before. The sight of so many made me sick. I bent over, holding my side and catching my breath.

Bastien sat dazed on the floor. I hurried over and knelt in front of him.

“Are you hurt?”

“Just got the wind knocked out of me,” he said, struggling to his feet.

I grabbed his arm and helped him up. Once he was steady, I rushed over to Lei, who still cradled Kale in her arms.

“I’m sorry—” My voice cracked. “It was an accident.”

“Get out of here. Leave us alone!” Tears dropped from her cheeks and landed on Kale’s laboring chest.

I took a step toward her. “Lei, I’m—”

“Just
go away
,” she said, almost inaudibly.

I couldn’t move.

Chapter Twenty-Two

A
rik hurried to Lei’s side. “Is he breathing?”

Demos and Jaran joined them.

Lei just rocked Kale without answering.

“
Lei
,” he said more forcefully, “is he breathing?”

Sinead approached from behind Arik and gently grasped Lei’s shoulder. “Let me see him.”

Lei nodded and stood. Arik wrapped his arms around her and guided her a few steps away from Kale.

Lei glared at me. “It’s your fault. What did you do to him?”

“I–I’m sorry,” I stammered. “I was aiming for—he stepped in the way.”

“Give her time,” Bastien whispered, taking my elbow and leading me across the room to a chair.

It’s my fault. He’s going to die, and it’s my fault.

I plopped down on the chair, feeling weak and queasy but not as bad as when I first used my battle globes. The side effects were lessening. While Sinead worked on Kale, I held my breath, hoping I hadn’t killed him. When his leg moved, I exhaled. He groaned, and I let out a sigh. Once Sinead eased him into a sitting position, I sobbed into my shaky hand.

Lei flew to Kale, snaring him in her arms. She didn’t seem to care who witnessed her kiss him. “Is he going to be okay?”

Sinead nodded and then gave me a sympathetic smile.

The Sentinels surrounded Lei and Kale. I felt like an outsider. Actually, I felt like an epic idiot for throwing my globe without knowing what it would do. It disabled Kale’s globe, leaving him vulnerable. He could’ve died, and it would’ve been my fault.

Bastien gently touched my arm. “Don’t worry. It was an accident. Things like this are unavoidable during battles. It can’t be helped.”

I caught Arik staring at us, and he diverted his eyes, barking orders to his Sentinels.

“I must get to Couve,” Bastien said. “To my father.”

“I’m so sorry, Bastien.”

He grabbed my hand. “Follow me.”

With a sigh, I staggered alongside him into the hallway, too exhausted to think, to do anything besides follow along. The battered French Sentinels labored out behind us.

I rolled my neck to relieve the tension. Beautiful paintings stretched across the ceiling. Set in elaborate gold-trimmed frames, they depicted Roman women in everyday life. One was dressed like a warrior.

I dropped Bastien’s hand. “The woman on the ceiling. I know this.”

He ignored me, shuffling over to the Sentinels, a stunned expression still on his face.

“Know what?” Arik asked from behind me with Sinead trailing him.

I flinched. “Crap, you startled me.” I glanced back up. “The mural. It’s a clue to finding one of those keys—”

“Hold on,” Sinead said. “We must keep this secret. Bastien, can you put up a shield to hide our location and to keep this conversation private?”

Bastien nodded, then chanted something with his arms outstretched. A wave of light shot out from him and spread across the ceiling.

Sinead returned her gaze to me. “Now what’s this about a clue?”

“In my great-grandfather’s book, there’s a poem written in it,” I said. “I think Gian put it there for one of his heirs to find. By what Conemar said to me, I believe it’s a chart with clues to finding the Chiavi. It describes that woman in it.”

“A perfect place to hide the chart,” said Arik, “since Gian’s edition has been out of print for eighty years. I can’t imagine why no one else came across it.”

“It’s charmed. Apparently only the Doomsday Child can see it.”

I studied the fresco on the ceiling, trying to remember the poem. Commotion distracted me. Demos and Lei shuffled in, aiding Kale behind her. The jagged cuts on their faces and arms trickled blood, and their clothes were rumpled and torn. Demos helped Lei lower Kale to the floor.

Bastien crossed the hall to us—his face grim and his eyes red. “I must get to my Haven. If your band isn’t able to continue with us, then stay.”

“Let us recover a moment, and we’ll accompany you to Couve,” Arik offered.

Demos hopped up from his position on the floor beside Kale. “We have to go now. What if they need help?”

One of the French Sentinels closed his window rod. “I just spoke to the commander of the guards. The attack is over, and the situation is under control. What’s your order?”

Bastien’s eyes flicked around room, as if taking inventory of everyone’s condition. “All right, my Sentinels need to take a breath, as well. We’ll leave on the half hour.”

Arik inspected me. “Your neck is marked,” he said. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Seeing the concern on Arik’s face gave me hope that he still cared, even though I knew nothing could happen between us. He had a
wholesome
girl waiting for him.

“You’re unharmed,” Arik flung spitefully at Bastien. “What did you do? Hide behind her skirts?”

“No, he didn’t,” I said, my voice shaky. “He was hit by a stun globe…and…and he stopped Conemar from killing me. It’s all my fault.”

“No,” Arik said. “None of this is your fault. It’s all mine. I should’ve made you stay behind.”

My hands clenched, and I shook my head. “No. I forced you.”

Arik cupped my shoulder. “I am the leader. All responsibility rests with me.”

Bastien shoved Arik’s hand from my shoulder and stepped in front of me. “Don’t touch her.”

I backed away from them, shaking my head. There was more going on here than two guys battling for control, and I didn’t like it.

“Don’t try me, Renard.” Arik formed his hand into a fist.

Demos moved between them. “Hold on, now, no one likes a possessive male.” He guided Arik back.

“Speak for yourself, ducky,” Lei said, wiping sweat from Kale’s forehead with a tissue. “I love me some possessive male action.”

Kale gave her a pained smile.

“Don’t worry. I won’t blast a million watts into him,” Bastien said. The sadness in his eyes broke my heart.
How can he be so strong?
He just found out his father was murdered.
I’d fall apart if it was me.

Arik gave him a sharp look.

Is Arik jealous of Bastien?
A mixture of happiness and guilt rushed through me. One guy I
couldn’t
have, and the other I
wouldn’t
have because I refused to be betrothed.

I stepped between Arik and Bastien this time. “Stop it, Arik. Conemar said he murdered Bastien’s father.”

Arik’s face softened. “Are you certain?”

“No,” Bastien said. “But I must get back home. My mother—” his voice broke and he turned away from the group.

“We must figure out what Conemar is up to,” Demos said “And, what exactly does Veronique’s presence here mean?”

“I wondered about that, as well,” Kale said weakly.

Lei yanked out another tissue from a box in her hand. “Sinead, you were fighting her. Did you find out anything?”

“I searched Veronique’s thoughts,” Sinead said. “Bastien’s brother Odil got into Asile by pretending to carry a message from his father and then freed Veronique from her cell. They narrowly escaped.”

“This doesn’t make sense,” Bastien said, punching the wall beside him and wincing in pain. “How could he do this? How could he kill
our father
?”

Sinead placed her hand on Bastien’s shoulder. “I know your brother. He is selfish and easily led. You must stay strong for your mother.”

Bastien lowered his head and nodded, holding his injured hand to his chest.

Arik dabbed at a cut on his lip with his fingertip. “If Veronique and Odil barely made it out, then Asile still stands. Merlin must’ve put up stronger wards.”

“Wards that block window rods,” Lei added.

Watching Lei in her helmet woke words buried deep within my mind:
Look to the one in Sentinel dress.
One of the images painted on the ceiling was of a woman wearing a golden helmet and a chest guard. Sitting on a rock and studying a map stretched out before her, she held a sword in one hand and a spear in the other, with a shield leaning against her side.

“That’s it!” I paced, my face lifted toward the ceiling. “It’s something about a small pointy thing in her hand. Oh, her sword. It’s small from down here. The Chiave has to be here somewhere.” I twirled around, trying to see every piece of artwork in the place. There weren’t many, mostly paintings and a white plaster statue of a curvy woman. The plaque said her name was Saint Agnes.

“Care to fill us in on what’s going on?” Jaran asked.

“She found the chart in a first edition book of
The Invisible Places
,” said Arik.

“Shhh. Let me think.” I struggled to recall the poem. “Does anyone know anything about the first Chiave? The book I read said the Writhe’s found it or have it.”

“The textbooks have it wrong. Writhes didn’t find the Chiave, nor do they have it,” Sinead said. “It was found in the Vatican’s Library by Gian Bianchi. It was a cross pendant. Ever since Gian’s murder, it’s been missing. It’s believed the killer took it from him and hid it somewhere.”

Hot flames seemed to consume me. My face burned. “Conemar said he killed Gian.”

“That’s interesting,” Sinead said. “The Writhes had accused Toad, a Laniar, of the crime. Toad was found insane and sent to the gallows beneath the Vatican.”

I swiped sweat from my forehead with my sleeve. “There were Writhes fighting with Conemar today.”

“If the Writhes are indeed with Conemar,” said Arik, “then most likely an innocent Laniar was imprisoned for the crime. Which means Conemar and the Writhes have been conspiring together ever since Gian’s death.”

“When did Gian die?” I asked.

“It was 1938,” Kale said.

“So that means they’ve been planning world domination for over seventy-five years at least,” I said.

“Conemar was accused of murdering the seer, Agnost,” Kale said. “If he was indeed Agnost’s killer, then he’s been plotting even longer. Agnost was murdered in 1898.”

He was born with an evil soul.

“My God, how old is he?”

Demos fidgeted with his sword. “Our textbooks put Conemar in his thirties at the time of Agnost’s death, so I’m assuming he’s nearing the hundred and fifty mark—midlife for a wizard.”

“Didn’t Gian write something in his blood before he died?” said Arik.

“He wrote
Libero il Tesoro
,” Sinead said.

“Free the treasure,” I translated. “That’s the title of the poem.”

A loud crack reverberated above our heads.

Lightning shot across the ceiling as the fresco came to life. A bird squawked and a horse neighed. The boy holding the horse’s reins blew on his horn. The breeze brushing my face carried the sweet smell of grass and the spicy aroma of flowers.

The warrior woman in the painting stood and leaped from the ceiling to the floor. Her skirt caught the air in a parachute of soft peach. She was like an Amazon—a tall warrior woman. The helmet and chest guard she wore were as golden as her skin.

The woman reached her sword out to Sinead, who took it without hesitation. Then the woman hurled herself back up and into the painting. The wind receded, the lightning stilled, and the woman, horse, boy, and bird froze back into their places within the fresco.

No one moved or made a sound. Several addled minutes went by before anyone stirred.

“We have a Chiave.” Sinead held the sword out to Arik. “It must be in the care of our leader.”

Arik seized the sword.

The hallway erupted in celebration. All but Bastien, who whispered something to one of his Sentinels. The guy’s face hardened.

Lei stopped in mid-celebration. “What’s going on here? How did Gia know where to find a Chiave?”

My throat tightened. What could I say? The grim expression on Arik’s face did nothing to make me feel better.

Arik cleared his throat. “Gia is the daughter of two Sentinels.”

The collective gasp echoed against the walls.

“I knew she was dangerous,” Lei spat.

“You’re saying we’re in the end times?” Kale’s voice was scratchy.

Bastien’s Sentinel sidled up next to me, sword drawn, as if to protect me.

“No one touch her,” Bastien warned.

Arik took an angry step toward Bastien, his hand on the hilt of his sword. “Why would we hurt her?”

My chest tightened as I scanned the Sentinels—would one of them try to hurt me?
Trust no one, Gia
rang in my mind.

Sinead stepped into the middle of the group. “Her birth may have put the events in motion to cause the end of the worlds as we know them, but that doesn’t mean she will cause the destruction. You’ve all taken an oath to protect innocents. No matter what. Gia is an innocent. She’s one of you. You cannot turn your back on her. I can feel every emotion in this room, and I’m surprised by some.” She looked pointedly at Lei. “What I feel from Gia is her desire to do what is right.”

“I’m with you, Gia,” Demos said.

I smiled at him, and my muscles relaxed a little.

“I will never let you lose who you are,” Kale added.

“Thank you,” I mouthed, remembering the cab ride when I told him I was afraid of losing myself. I swallowed the emotion building in my throat, trying to keep it at bay.

Lei huffed, not saying a word as she checked Kale’s wounds. I wanted to be anywhere but in the same place as her. Her coldness toward me could have frozen an ocean.

Arik came to my side, leaned over, and lowered his voice. “Follow me. I have to talk to you, privately.”

It sounded like an order, so I crossed my arms. “Don’t boss me, like the others. Remember
I’m
not a Sentinel yet.”

“Are you barmy?”

I loved how his strong brows pushed together over his dark eyes when he wasn’t sure about something. “What is that supposed to mean? Speak English, already.”

“I live in England.
I
am speaking English,” he said. “Have you gone mad?”

I raised an eyebrow.

“Will you
please
follow me? Is that better?”

“Much better, thank you.”

I plodded after him into a long corridor with interminable rows of coat racks lining the walls. It had to be where the senators left their coats and stuff when visiting the library.