Chapter 13 · The Hollow Cure - Chapter 13: Under His Altar

"Don't even think about twitching, Kael. One breath out of place and I’ll have your fingers scattered across this floor."

Aldrus didn't just stand there; he loomed. The Inquisitor’s gloved hand was clamped tight around Kael’s collar, pinning him against the cold, damp stone of the altar’s base. The air in the sanctum tasted like ozone and old blood, thick enough to choke on. Around them, the Church’s elite guards formed a suffocating circle of steel and white robes, their spears leveled at Kael’s throat.

Kael didn't fight it. He let his head hang, a smirk playing on his lips that he knew was driving Aldrus insane. "You’re late, Aldrus. I thought you’d have the place bugged by now. Or is the Great Inquisitor getting slow in his old age?"

"Shut it," Aldrus hissed. He shifted his grip, shoving Kael harder against the stone. The impact knocked the wind out of him, but Kael didn't gasp. He looked past the Inquisitor to where Lyra stood.

She looked like a ghost—pale, trembling, her wrist still glowing with the faint, sickly light of the blood-contract. But her eyes weren't afraid. They were burning.