In the middle of the room, Lei and Kale stood back-to-back, throwing globes at their adversaries. Lei hit three Writhes at once with a lightning globe, while Kale stunned a charging man shrouded in a cape. There were several cloaked men, their faces hidden in the shadows of their hoods, battling the other French Sentinels. I spotted Sinead fighting one, the hood slipping off and exposing the woman underneath.
Veronique. How did she get out of Asile?
Just as Bastien shoved me to the floor, a purple globe whizzed by my head and hit him. My helmet flew from my hand and rolled across the floor. Bastien slumped to the ground, and I scrambled to him. Though his body was immobile, he breathed. The stun globe had hit him.
On the floor, Bastien struggled to breathe.
Kale. He can help.
I searched the room for him. A small man in a colorful suit—a typical Napoleon Bonaparte type—bounded in my direction. Lightning flashed between his hands, and by the fix of his eyes, he planned to send it my way.
Panic surged through me, and I threw up my hands as if I could block the man’s attack. A pink globe sprouted and engulfed Bastien and me. The man slid to a stop in front of the globe.
He titled his head to the side and cracked his neck, bouncing the electric currents between his hands. A wicked smile played on his lips. “Well, well, Agnost’s prophesized child. Impressive, Gianna. You may be of use, after all.”
Put on a brave face. You can’t let him know you’re afraid.
“Conemar,” I sneered.
“I see my reputation precedes me.” His lips twisted into a smirk. “Your great-grandfather refused me. That is why I put my knife between his ribs. You would be smart to give up now.”
He touched the pink membrane separating us and closed his eyes. A force pushed against the globe. I gritted my teeth, willing the globe to hold. After a while, he removed his hand.
“Good girl. This globe is strong. I’ve never seen one grow like this before,” he said, running his hand across the outside as though he was searching for a weak spot. His gaze landed on Bastien. “Poor Bastien, shall I tell him I just killed his father, or do you want the honor if he wakes up?”
I glanced down at Bastien, still stunned on the floor. His gaze was frozen on the ceiling, and tears slid down his temples. My heart twisted, knowing Bastien had heard Conemar’s confession.
There was a plunk. Conemar had punched his arm through the globe, and his meaty hand clamped my throat.
“Your globe is easily breached. You must learn to master it.”
I gagged against his tight grip. Lights flickered across my vision and I turned faint. I focused on a pulsing sensation deep inside me. It had to be where the globe originated. I put all my will into pushing that feeling out, thinking only of strengthening the globe.
Conemar’s grip loosened as the pink membrane strangled his wrist. “You can’t win,” he hissed. “Drop the globe. Join me and your friends won’t die. Think of the power we’ll have by controlling the Tetrad. Whatever you want will be yours. Where’s the chart, Gianna?”
“Chart?” I croaked.
“The poem with clues to finding each Chiave.” He placed his other hand on the globe and pushed harder. “It is said only the presaged can find the Chiavi. A charm on the chart would locate you the moment you entered Asile.”
“What are you talking about?” The pink sphere rippled under his effort. “You’re fricking crazy. I haven’t seen any damn chart.” But the image of the book The Invisible Places by Gian Bianchi flashed in my mind. The scribbling on the first page was a poem. Professor Attwood had given it to me the first day I was in Asile—it did find me, so to speak. It had to be the chart.
“You have seen it.” Conemar crinkled his brows together. The right one shot up higher than the other as he studied my non-poker face. His face was familiar, but I knew I’d never met him before. Or had I?
I concentrated on keeping my palm lifted and the globe up. “Are you cracked?” I choked out. But I was weakening and the globe was slipping. My insides churned and I struggled to ignore my growing panic and stay focused.
His hand tightened around my throat again. Long fingernails dug into my skin. He frowned. “I can’t kill you. I