Page 94 of The Lies We Conjure
Hex and Ada freeze, the boy in a crouch, his sister bent over our find, her body roughly facing her father. Color flushes high in their cheeks in the lantern light, rushing to the surface as if it’s answered a call—and maybe it has. I picture their blood drumming in their veins, at attention for their father.
“Hex, bring the box to me.”
The Cerise boy stiffens but doesn’t move. Doesn’t even blink. “I can hold it. As your heir.”
At this, his father smiles. “You’re my son, but you’re not the oathed heir.”
Hex’s mouth drops. “Not yet, but I will be, and I can hold it—”
“Your sister has already been oathed.”
We all turn to Ada, who swallows thickly.
“Is this true?” Hex asks, voice a rasp, his face paling as he stares at her, his big frame suddenly seeming smaller as he remains crouched.
In response, his sister pulls up her sleeve, revealing her tattoos. They look just like Hex’s, a series of vertical lines. But then, the skin there begins to blur at the edges, and a horizontal sweep of ink just like Hector’s reveals itself.
Hex’s face contorts as he glares as his twin. “You hid it from me? You lied to me?”
“Oh, don’t be so sour, Junior,” Hector crows, stepping closer. Blood twines down his arm in ruby ringlets. “We figured your girlfriend would’ve told you. The Liaison of the Lines is notified after each heir is oathed.”
Beside me, Auden inhales sharply, surprise in it. Evander goes still as stone, still bent with Hex by the box.
And Winter—Winter is furious.“Ex.”
Hector just smiles broader. “All the more reason for you to keep Ada’s oath from him.”
Winter stiffens but doesn’t deny it. She knew that Ada had become the Cerise heir.
“Everyone will let you down except your blood, son,” Hector says, self-satisfied. “Everyone.” Then. “Hex, bring me the box.”
This time it’s not a question, it’s an order. A spell.
What the twins described their parents to be capable of.
Hex jerks into motion like a marionette, vise grip on the box, prying it free. With a cry, he wrenches his fingers open and drops the box onto the amethyst. The relic doesn’t break on impact, but tips over onto its side and slides down the stone to the blood-soaked dirt.
Hex’s eyes spring open, glassy against the strain of every capillary and vein in his face puffing up, the blood within him compelled to comply with the magic of his father’s words and spell. Still, he manages to lift his head and stare his father in the eye across the distance, defiance etched in his coal-dark glare as much as his will to resist.
“You are such a disappointment.” Hector’s mouth curls into a mean smile. Too much time has passed—somehow Hector’s use of magic on, or perhaps against, his own child is a loophole within the rules. He’s not afraid to use it against them, or apparently in front of us. One more secret worth revealing in the sake of the power in play. Hector aims that smile and his attention on his daughter. “Ada, my heir, the box.”
A small whimper escapes her lips as her father’s spell seizes hold, her body moving under his command. Ada stiff-arms Hex away and snatches the box, rising awkwardly to her feet.
“Good girl,” Hector coos. “Bring it here.”
Ada moves to do so, poorly navigating a step between Evander and Kaysa—
The security wards detonate.
The ground beneath the platform rumbles and then explodes in a curtain of light, encircling the seven of us on the platform. My fingers clutch Auden as I realize we have no protective shield this time. I duck my head and squeeze my eyes closed, and then it’s over.
I blink back into the strange reality of Hector’s cruelty—and see Evander has plucked the relic from Ada’s grip. “We agreed every master stays with the Hegemonys until the clue is confirmed.”
Hector closes the distance, stabbing a furious hand at Evander, spittle flying. “You just determined it was the Blood relic. You may not have invited me for your little druid hike onto theseunsafegrounds at two in the morning, but I heard you. It’s mine.”
There’s a terrible glint in his eye and both twins seize, magic gripping them harder.
Ada jerks and jumps, claws out as she attacks Evander under Hector’s direction. On the ground, a wail of pain lances through Hex as his body fights to rise and help his sister obtain the box, as his mind fights the compulsion of his father within his blood. His whole body is vibrating with effort though his movements are infinitesimal. Like a deadlocked arm-wrestling match. Winter is cupping his straining shoulder.
