Page 133 of The Lies We Conjure
I gasp—without a Blackgate in control, Hex’s magic can move his parents, just as they once were able to compel him. No master needed.
Sanguine rips the bone shard out of the girl’s hand and crushes it in her otherworldly zombie grip. Kaysa screams and tries to pitch away but is caught by Hector under Hex’s control.
From behind there’s a screech. I turn in time to see Ruby twisting her heel to crush the bone-shard fragment on the tile, Lavinia on her knees, hands in a panic. “Oh, youbitch!”
Ruby takes off in a run, Lavinia clawing at the ruined skin of her ankles. I race toward the Death witch, cuff her hand, throw up a shield, and—
There’s a bolt of green magic that whizzes past my ear. I turn to follow it, and in that moment, Lavinia is suddenly frozen in the same forced-air magical prison Ursula created as punishment. I track the magic back, and there Evander stands, our Elemental relic slipped around his neck, amplifying his power. Kaysa is next, frozen in a heartbeat.
And then, suddenly, everything stops.
The skeletons drop where they stand. The ghosts evaporate. The attack is over.
All is quiet except the pounding of my heart, the heave and exhale of my breath, and Ruby appearing beside me, her hand slipping into mine as she slumps into my side. Weak but warm—alive. “Is it over?”
I swallow and answer truthfully.
“Almost.”
CHAPTER41
RUBY
With two out of three Blackgates frozen on the lawn, we converge on the final one.
I hold tight to Auden, my side pressed into his as the weight of his arm drapes over my shoulders. Though my body trembles with bruising magic—the skin around my ankles as black as ash, my throat raw, my head throbbing—I feel warm and safe, if not okay.
Cool relief swells through me at the sight of Wren, standing whole without a scratch on her, the butter knife tight in her grip. My sister watches Marsyas as if the woman isn’t incapacitated, as if she’ll burst free from her improvised bindings. Not likely, given the Death witch is face down on the garden tiles, her arms sucked into the earth all the way up to her shoulders, her head tilted awkwardly to one side.
Evander has squatted to Marsyas’s level, all four master relics bulging in his sweatpants pockets.
He doesn’t say anything until we’re all assembled.
The Cerises—Ada alive but barely, as pale as a sheet and silently propped against her brother, who’s smudged in a tapestry of blood and dirt, and grinning something ferocious. Infinity and Winter bracket the other side, grass staining their clothing, twigs lodged in Winter’s long hair as Infinity pats their short, wiry curls, dirt raining onto their broad shoulders.
We stare down at Marsyas. Waiting. Watching.
Finally, Evander presses a hand to a mélange of pebbled dirt and cracked stone tiles in front of her.
“I want to hear your plan from the very beginning. Don’t leave any part out. And don’t excuse any of the elders. We know you met with Luna and Hector. We know you killed them both. I want confirmation about which one of you killed Ursula. If I have to, I will use a truth spell on you.” Evander pauses, and gestures to the group at large, even Wren and me. “If we use a truth spell and are still unsure, you will die before midnight to ensure we satisfy Ursula’s spell, so I would be honest with us, even if it implicates yourself. We are the future of the Four Lines, and we need to hear every word of your betrayal so that we may never allow something like it again.”
Marsyas seems to consider this with a thin inhale and the purse of her expressive mouth. It’s clear she doesn’t appreciate being lectured at by someone barely older than her granddaughters.
“The story is long and tedious. Therefore, I do think it would be a much more pleasant experience for both myself and you as listeners if you were able to secure me in a different manner before I begin.”
In answer, Evander stands from his crouch and hauls a dining chair from the table to the most level set of tiles near Marsyas. Again, he squats down to look her in the eye.
“I will release you and escort you to this chair. When you are seated, I will freeze your limbs to guarantee you do not run and you do not use your magic as you tell the story.”
Marsyas’s answer is to fire back with her own set of demands. “Before I tell my tale, I want you to promise me that my granddaughters are safe. They had no hand in any of these murders and do not deserve the ultimate punishment. Do not make examples out of them, Evander Hegemony. Their father’s life became forfeit, and I need you to promise me you will not punish them for something they did not do.”
Evander looks her in the eye. “I promise you they will live.”
Marsyas’s mouth sets in a grim line and she nods.
Evander presses a hand to the earth. It immediately shudders, releasing her. He gets her upright, his grasp unyielding as he carefully spins her toward the chair, checking his watch. “We have mere hours left. Tell your story accurately and fully. Do not leave anything out.”
The woman waves him off andcackles.
