Chapter 74: His Confession Burns

Raziel went up the basement stairs.

Lucian grabbed his arm. “Wait.”

Raziel stopped but didn’t turn around. “What?”

“You can’t go alone.”

“Yes, I can.”

“No.” Lucian tightened his grip. “You won’t.”

Raziel pulled away, his voice cold. “This isn’t your problem.”

“Yes, it is.” Lucian stood in front of him. “You said it yourself. We’re in this together.”

“That was before the Inquisition put a price on my head.”

Raziel went back down the stairs and walked to the opposite wall of the basement.

Odessa crossed her arms. “If Arawn has proof, why didn’t he just show it to the Inquisition?”

“Because he doesn’t trust them.” Raziel leaned against the wall. “And because he needs something from me first.”

“What?”

“Access to the Council of Exarchs.”

Garrett let out a dry laugh. “That’s impossible.”

“I know.” Raziel closed his eyes.

The System notification was still there, floating in his inner vision.

[WARNING: PARASITE CORRUPTION ENCAPSULATED. TIME REMAINING: 58 DAYS, 14 HOURS]

Fifty-eight days. Less than two months, and he’d spend half of that time dodging Templars.

A sharp knock on the door upstairs made them all go quiet.

Garrett held up a hand. “Stay here.”

He went up the stairs slowly, his hand on the knife in his belt.

Raziel tensed his muscles, Lucian pulled out another dagger, and Odessa half-drew her sword.

A murmur of voices from upstairs then Garrett’s voice. “It’s fine. Come down.”

Footsteps on the stairs.

Arawn Rivers appeared, wearing a gray Scribe’s robe and a hood that hid his face, but he pulled it down when he got to the basement.

Lucian pointed his dagger. “You.”

“Me.” Arawn looked at Raziel. “You got my message.”

“Yeah.”

“Then you know we don’t have much time.”

Arawn walked to the table, dropped a scroll, and unrolled it.

It was a map of the capital, with red marks in several spots.

“These are the Templar checkpoints.” Arawn pointed to three routes. “These are the only safe ways out of Phaedra.”

“I’m not running.” Raziel got closer. “You said Marius confessed.”

“He did.”

Arawn took out another document.

An official Inquisition transcript, sealed with crimson wax.

“I got everything out of him under torture, his pacts, his contacts, and the name of every accomplice in St. Celeste.”

Raziel grabbed the document and read it quickly.

Marius had confessed his connection to Seraphina, to Angelina, to the Cult of the Source.

But…

“It says here I’m an ambitious Elementalist.” Raziel looked up.

“Correct.” Arawn crossed his arms.

“I edited the confession before handing it in, so the Inquisition thinks you’re a novice with a talent for fire who got into magic he doesn’t understand.”

“Why?”

“Because if I tell them the truth, they’ll burn you at the stake and I lose my only leverage to get into the Council of Exarchs.”

Raziel squeezed the scroll. “You’re a fucking manipulator.”

“Yes.” Arawn gave a humorless smile. “And you’re a heretic with a deadly parasite. We need each other.”

Odessa took a step forward. “What guarantee do we have that you won’t betray us?”

“None.” Arawn looked at her. “But if I wanted to betray you, I would have already done it.”

Lucian spit on the floor. “That’s not comforting.”

A loud bang on the door upstairs interrupted them.

BAM! BAM! BAM!

A rough voice yelled. “Open in the name of the Order of Zhalyr!”

Garrett ran down the stairs. “It’s the Templars! You have to get out now!”

Arawn grabbed the map. “Follow me.”

“Where?”

“To the only place the Templars can’t touch you.”

Arawn walked toward a large barrel in the corner of the basement.

He pushed it aside, revealing a trapdoor on the floor. He opened it, showing a dark tunnel that smelled of damp and mold.

“What is this?” Odessa frowned.

“A servant’s passage that leads straight to the Royal Palace.”

Raziel blinked. “What?”

“Come on, we don’t have time.” Arawn went down into the tunnel.

Raziel looked at Lucian.

Lucian shrugged. “I’ll take a dark tunnel over an Inquisition cell.”

They all went down.

Garrett closed the trapdoor behind them just as the door upstairs splintered.

CRASH!

The tunnel was narrow, with damp stone walls and torches every thirty-three feet. Their footsteps echoed behind them.

Lucian was panting. “How much longer?”

“Five minutes.” Arawn wasn’t even tired. “If you don’t stop.”

Raziel’s parasite throbbed again, stronger this time, and a pang of pain shot through his chest.

The tunnel widened, and an iron ladder went up to a trapdoor in the ceiling.

Arawn climbed first and pushed the trapdoor open.

Gray light filtered in. Raziel climbed up behind him.

They came out into a narrow hallway of the Royal Palace, with crimson tapestries and decorative armor on the walls.

Arawn closed the trapdoor. “This hallway leads to the Prince’s private chambers.”

As if summoned, Aerion Kaelen appeared at the end of the corridor.

He was wearing light armor, his hand on the hilt of his sword.

“Arawn.” Aerion walked closer. “You said they were coming.”

“And here they are.”

Aerion looked at Raziel, then at Lucian and Odessa. “The Templars are hunting you.”

“We know.” Raziel stood up straight. “That’s why I need your help.”

“My help?” Aerion laughed. “Novice, the Inquisition wants your head, and I can’t stop them.”

“I’m not asking you to stop them.” Raziel took a step forward. “I’m asking you to buy me time.”

“For what?”

“To clear my name. Arawn has proof from Marius’s confession. If I return to St. Celeste voluntarily, under your protection, I can present it to Father Thomas. He’s the only one at the academy who still trusts me.”

Aerion frowned. “That’s insane.”

“I know.”

“If you go back, you’ll be a lamb among wolves.”

Raziel shrugged. “I already was. The difference is that now the wolves know I bite back.”

Aerion looked at him for a long moment.

Then he sighed.

“Fine.” Aerion took a medallion from his belt. “This is a royal protection order. It grants you temporary immunity as long as you’re in St. Celeste’s custody.”

He handed it to Raziel.

“But it only works if you return voluntarily. If you try to run again, the order is void.”

Raziel grabbed the medallion. “Understood.”

“And Raziel.” Aerion put a hand on his shoulder. “If this goes wrong, I won’t be able to save you.”

“I don’t expect you to.”

Aerion let go. “Then may Zhalyr protect you.”

***

Two hours later, Raziel, Lucian, Odessa, and Arawn were standing in front of the gates of St. Celeste.

The sun was setting behind the academy’s towers, painting the stones orange and crimson.

Raziel took a deep breath.

[WARNING: ENTERING HIGH-HOSTILITY ZONE. RECOMMENDATION: ACTIVATE SURVIVAL PROTOCOLS]

Raziel ignored the notification.

Lucian looked at him. “You sure about this?”

“No.” Raziel walked toward the gates. “But we’re doing it anyway.”

The gates opened.

Exarch Caelum was waiting for them in the courtyard, his hands behind his back and a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

Behind him, a dozen guards in silver armor.

Caelum tilted his head. “Welcome back, Novice Raziel! We have much to discuss.”

He paused.

“Especially… about the Heart of the Forge.”

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