Nevernight (The Nevernight Chronicle #1) - Jay Kristoff Page 0,185

her eyes. “They’re gearing up to invade the Church.”

“… adonai would never walk them across…”

“Unless he’s in league with them?” Mia whispered. “Or someone forces him?”

“… walking blithely into a den of the deadliest assassins in the republic? this eve of all eves? lord cassius himself will be there…”

“… Maybe that’s the idea.”

Justicus Remus spoke to one of his centurions, narrowed eyes on his troops.

“All is prepared?”

“Aye, Justicus.” The tall, iron-hard man saluted, fist to chest. “The abattoir was taken without incident. The heretics who dwelled below are in custody or slain.”

The justicus nodded, turned to another man beside him. A grizzled-looking veteran that Mia recognized, a leather patch over one eye.

“Centurion Alberius, Second Century will enter the portal first and secure the staging area. Prepare your men. Assault begins in five minutes.”

The puppy-killer thumped his chest. “Luminus Invicta, Justicus.”

The man turned to his men and bellowed.

“Second Century, form up!”

One hundred Luminatii arranged themselves with military precision, grim faced and silent. They bore wooden cudgels and shields, a few gravebone blades. Mia was at least grateful none of them would be able to bring their sunsteel with them—no metal could make the Blood Walk, and facing down a few hundred Luminatii armed with burning blades was a little more daunting than facing down a few hundred armed with big sticks.

But only a little.

Remus turned on his secondus, spoke in measured tones.

“Centurion Maxxis. Third Century will hold ground here until we return with the heretics and their master in chains. First Century marches with me on the Sky Altar.”

Mia’s belly churned at the mention of the Altar. Remus knew the Mountain. Which meant he knew its layout, its workings. How else could the Luminatii know all this, unless there was a traitor amid the Church’s number?

But Drusilla had tested them all! Every acolyte in the crop had chosen to die rather than give up the Porkery’s location. Who’d suffer torture at the hands of Lord Cassius’s confessors, only to sell the Church to the Luminatii afterward?

Someone who knew Cassius’s confessional was only a test …

Realization danced a sickening jig through Mia’s belly.

Ashlinn shrugged, scoffed another mouthful. “Wuh vwat wunugd mufuh.”

“… What?”

The girl swallowed, licked her lips. “I said, well, that’s what you’ve got me for. Da told me and my brother everything about this place. Everything he knew, anyway.”

“Ash and Oz’s father…”

“… what of him…?”

“Ash told me he’d raised his children to replace him.”

She looked to the shadow lurking beside her.

“What if he raised them to avenge him?”

“… to attack the darkin lord of the world’s finest assassins in a place of perpetual darkness? with a few hundred men? best of luck, dear justicus…”

“He won’t need luck,” Mia whispered. “The Swoon, don’t you see? The measurements in Carlotta’s notes were enough to knock dozens dreaming. If Ashlinn or Oz slip it into the initiation feast, Cassius will drop like anyone else, darkin or no.”

“… but tric will be at the feast. he would smell the poison, surely…?”

Mia’s heart surged. Her belly tuning cold.

“’Byss and blood…”

She was down off the rafters before Mister Kindly could utter another whisper. Dropping to the mezzanine, shrouded once more in her cloak of shadows; just a dark blur against the Porkery walls. Second Century were marching up to the mezzanine, followed by Remus and his primus. The men tromped down the stair to the blood pool, two abreast.

Mia stole down behind them, hidden beneath her shadowcloak, the world about her dim and black. Arkemical lamps dotted the stairwell, and she followed their light down to the Porkery’s belly, the slick tang of blood hanging in the air. She heard sloshing, churning, burbling. Moving quiet, pawing her way along the wall past the rows of waiting soldiers into the blood pool. The glyphs on the stone were humming faintly, power singing in the air as Centurion Alberius barked his orders. Not a one of them would’ve seen Ashkahi bloodwerking before, but to their credit, each Luminatii waded out into Adonai’s pool as commanded. Closing their eyes and muttering their prayers and with a surge of Ashkahi magik, disappearing, one by one.

All eyes were on the swirling vortex. The glyphs scrawled in gore across the walls. Mia contemplated waiting until the Second Century had all crossed; surely there’d be a chance to take Remus down in all this. But she thought of Tric. The poison. The feast. If Ashlinn and Osrik had betrayed the Church, they had every reason to kill him, and that thought filled her with

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