The Immortal Heights - Sherry Thomas Page 0,102

much as I would love for you to say a few words of your own volition, I will hear from you soon enough when you begin to scream. Shall we, then?”

Titus stumbled—without notice, the containment domes had begun to move.

“Are you all right?” he called again to Fairfax.

She winced and leaned against the wall of the containment dome.

“This is not the end,” he said desperately. “Not yet.”

“Not for you,” said the Bane. “You will live, with as many missing parts as it is possible to have and still remain alive.”

Titus shook. Or perhaps he had not stopped shaking since he was first captured.

“Father, can you hear me? He already killed the woman you loved. Please do not let him harm the one I love. Please!”

“Oh, young love. How touching,” said the Bane.

“We met because of one of Mother’s visions. She had written that I would see a feat of tremendous elemental magic when I woke at two fourteen one afternoon. So I would have Dalbert wake me up at precisely that time whenever I was home in the castle. About seven months ago, on a perfectly clear, cloudless day, a bolt of lightning burst into being. It lasted and lasted until the shape and brilliance of it was imprinted on my retinas. I got on my peryton, vaulted to where the lightning had struck, and that was how I first saw her, half of her hair standing up.”

The Bane, walking behind them, displayed nothing but a polite interest. So Titus kept on talking, telling his father everything about his entire time with Fairfax, the setbacks, the heartbreaks, the triumphs—everything except that it was not the real Fairfax in the containment dome gliding alongside his.

Corridors, ramps, stairs. He would have marveled at how perfectly the containment domes coasted along—or the countless intricate and expansive wood carvings that lined their path. But the only thing gripping his attention was the fact that they passed no one on their endless descent.

It was not surprising that the Bane should have a private route through his stronghold—both the Citadel and the castle were full of secret passages known only to the family and maybe a few of the senior-most staff. But this meant it would be nearly impossible for Kashkari and Fairfax to find them.

Titus’s voice was wearing out. “I forgot to tell you, remember the copy of The Complete Potion that my mother defaced, the day she met you at the bookshop? What she wrote in the margins led Fairfax to bring down her first bolt of lightning. We are all connected in destiny, all of us.”

They were no longer descending but in a straight passage, narrow enough that he and Fairfax were proceeding single file. A door opened to an enormous chamber.

An enormous chamber with a huge mosaic of the Atlantean maelstrom on the floor—exactly as Kashkari had described.

They had arrived at the crypt.

At the far end of the crypt, an elaborate sarcophagus sat on a raised dais. Before the dais were arrayed six plain, raised platforms in two columns. Five of the platforms were empty. On the last one lay West, the Eton student who had been abducted because he, like Titus’s father, bore a striking resemblance to the Bane.

The containment cells stopped in the middle of the crypt.

“Only the worthy may proceed farther,” said the Bane.

With a lightning-fast motion, he struck at Fairfax. Titus did not even have time to cry out before the Bane pulled back. Fairfax, her face contorted in pain, gripped her right arm. The Bane held a thick pick aloft and, an ever-delighted expression on his face, examined the blood that had been extracted.

“Very lovely blood,” said the Bane, as he walked toward the sarcophagus. “I hope it will tell me that you will be an extremely effective sacrifice. But of course it’s only formalities—we both know how powerful you are, my dear.”

But of course the blood would reveal nothing of the sort. And as soon as that was done, the Bane would learn the truth.

“Are you sure you have body parts remaining that can be used for a sacrifice?” jeered Titus, even as his palms perspired.

“Trying to stall for time, prince? No, the time for talking is done.”

Behind the sarcophagus, with only his head and his shoulders visible, the Bane busied himself with his infernal procedures.

“Do you ever dream of your children?” Titus made a last-ditch effort. “Do you ever see their bloody remains? What about your little granddaughter? Do you ever see her begging you

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