Chapter 30 · Night Eight

Cael pressed the black knife harder against his own throat.

Blood ran down his wrist in a bright line, then vanished into the cracked red light under his boots.

“Nessa,” he said through clenched teeth. “Don’t come through. Don’t—”

The thing behind him laughed.

It didn’t sound like a person laughing. It sounded like somebody had dragged a chair across a crypt floor.

Jace made a broken little noise beside her. “Cael.”

Nessa grabbed his shoulder before he could rush the gate. “Stay here.”

“He’s my brother.”

“He’s got a knife at his throat and something wearing his shadow.” She didn’t look away from the split in the air. “If you run in blind, you’re just giving it another body.”

“That’s still Cael.”

“I know.”

Her oath mark burned from wrist to elbow. Every pulse pulled more blood out of her, not enough to drop her yet, but enough that her fingers felt cold and clumsy.

Across the ruined Registry hall, Sable stood on the upper platform in Dorian’s mother’s face.

Same silver hair. Same pale mouth. Same sharp little smile from the portrait in the Rook vault.

Wrong eyes.

Her eyes were black all the way through.

“You see?”