Page 105 of The Lies We Conjure
Unlike with Luna, we can see it all. Hector’s throat is slit vertically, from the well between his clavicles all the way through thepalate, and around the corner of his chin to his lips, fish-mouthed and gaping, his tongue and windpipe no longer there.
Sanguine is harder to parse, given that she lies behind him, but her head has lolled away awkwardly, and it’s easy to imagine her wounds are the same. Thick, viscous blood stains her beautiful face from the bridge of her nose down to the sharp curve of her chin, as if she feasted on a heart and fell asleep satisfied.
Death magic.
Blackgatemagic.
The weight of attention pulls me away from the stunning sight. I lift my head to accusations bare on the twins’ faces. Shades of the same painted on the faces of Evander, Infinity, Winter. I fear what I might see in Auden’s expression.
The summer air goes down ice cold as I try to draw in enough breath to defend Wren.
“She wouldn’t. She couldn’t. We’re not—” I fumble.
But there’s no way to explain what’s before me without sharing a secret that might make things a hundred times worse.
No, I can’t say that now.
The truth of my predicament makes the panic rise faster in my gut. I tighten my grip on Auden, a lifeline in this madness that is the only thing keeping me from sinking in this terrible moment, but it won’t save me. I know that.
Hex is flush with anger, his cheeks as warmly red as his tone is frigid. “It very much looks like she did. Do you see their faces?” Bald anguish swells in every word. “God, look at them! Just look! Look whatshedid to them!”
Iamlooking. I’m just not understanding.
There is no one here who can do this.
Except a Blackgate.
My throat is dry, though my words sound as if they’ve been pulled from a soggy river bottom. “She didn’t do this—I didn’t do this…”
“Look in her hands,” Ada charges in a wail, her whole body taut as a bow. When I met Ada, I thought she was the epitome of softand feminine. Now, every sharp point of hers is aimed at me. “What does that look like to you?”
I didn’t notice it before.
Wren is turning to run, but only her feet look prepared for a mad dash because her hands are cupped together. Not clasped, but nearly touching, as if she was trying to pass something from one to the other. Squatting down and peering up, the drip of a silver chain dangles from her left hand, the fingers above it opening. Even with inches of magical static between her palm and the rest of us on the outside, it’s clear what it is.
“The Elemental master?” Evander asks. “It should be in the study safe—”
“Well, it’snot!” Ada shouts. “The Blood master is in my papa’s right hand.”
Ada’s pin-straight body collapses into the strength of her brother’s at the drop of “my papa’s,” her blue eyes waves in a hurricane. “She was collecting all of the relics so that when the Death master was found, she would have control of all four and claim the title of High Sorcerer.”
That’s not how it would work. She’d need Ursula’s ring, I think dully. But it doesn’t matter. Anything I say will only make it worse.
Hex rubs Ada’s back as she heaves in huge gulps of air. Infinity stares at the bodies, ramrod straight. Winter wraps herself in her own strong arms like she did when her grandmother died, her whole body shaking. Auden’s breathing is shallow, his grip turning cold around mine. Evander is deathly still.
They wait for me as I stumble for something acceptable to say and fail.
“What? No. No, she wouldn’t. She’d never…”
“Shedid.” Hex looms closer, his sister holding tight. “There’s no other explanation. Your sister murdered my parents in cold blood when they fought back. And the spell had enough juice left to trap her before she could take the Blood relic.”
The hurt in Hex’s voice slices through my heart. We’d just witnessed his parents’ cruelty and the lengths they’d go regarding theirchildren, their peers, to get what they want. But his parents were still his parents.
And now they’re gone.
It means nothing that I know that pain intimately, dulls nothing. It doesn’t take away from what they believe my sister has done.
Auden is still cradling my hand, but I’m the one with all the grip, his softening as reality sets in. I’m the one clinging. I wonder how long he’ll let me.
