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the door, banish my creations, and prevent me from conjuring others.

The oil in the center of the crystal glowed, then jetted into a bright flame. It sputtered and smoked, as if on the verge of going out, before shifting into a familiar plum-colored column, where it steadied. I pumped a fist. My magic was almost spent, but the thought items were doing their jobs. I reread the message and folded the parchment into a six-sided disk.

“Consegnare,” I said, waving the disk over the flame, my eyes cutting to the door and back. “Consegnare.”

The report began to smoke. C’mon, c’mon, c’mon, I thought, then jerked back as a bright flash tore the report from my fingers. I leaned forward again slowly, riveted on the flame. It cycled through the color spectrum, becoming orange, before returning to its original plum color.

I let out my breath in a long, shuddering sigh.

The message had gone through.

10

“It looks like you’ve recovered.”

When I raised my head, sleep seemed to run off it like thick water. Morning light filled the room. Connell was standing at the foot of my bed. I followed his gaze to the bedside table. Beside a fresh pitcher of water, the plum-colored flame continued to burn from the silver cup.

Fear shot through me. After sending the message last night, I’d closed my eyes, planning to rest just long enough to recharge my powers and manifest a weapon for protection. Instead, I’d fallen into a deep sleep, the manifestations having drained me much more than I’d thought.

Connell dragged the chair to the foot of the bed and sat so he was facing me. He nodded toward the cup. “It’s why the Front chose this place,” he said. “Its responsiveness to thought magic. The defenses the Elders created were superior to anything we could have manifested on the material plane or by our own magic. Through collective thought, we’ve maintained the Refuge.”

“Until now,” I shot back.

He nodded grimly. “That was an Elder book you incinerated. And yes, it contained powerful symbols that cannot be replicated, symbols instrumental in countering Lich’s efforts.”

“Nice try, but I saw the book.”

“You saw what someone wanted you to see.”

“Give it a rest. Lich was destroyed centuries ago.” I sat up on the side of the bed, emboldened by the knowledge that the Order had received the message, that they were on the way.

“I assure you,” Connell said, “Lich is alive and well.”

“Then where is he?”

“I’m going to tell you everything.”

“Your version of everything?” I snorted. “Don’t bother.”

“You’ve been conditioned to distrust us, and I accept that.” His gaze cut over to the plum-colored flame. “But what I’m going to tell you will explain why no one’s coming to your rescue.”

I shook my head even as a ganglion of fear formed in my gut.

“And when I finish—”

“Yeah, yeah,” I interrupted, “I’m going to throw my arms around you and thank you for showing me the light.”

“When I finish,” he repeated patiently, “we’ll release you.”

I felt the sarcastic retort I’d been preparing fall away. “Come again?”

“Return you through the portal you entered by.”

“And I’ll be back in New York?”

“New Jersey, technically. But yes.”

I stared at him. “Why?”

“Because we know the only way you’ll accept the truth is by investigating it for yourself.”

“Why is that so important to you?”

“If you’ll let me begin…”

I looked around the room, searching for an anomaly, just one. I knew what I’d seen when I arrived at the Refuge, dammit. Mold-coated walls, fish-faced creatures, a summoning ceremony fit for the seventh circle of hell. My perceptions had only changed once the Front knocked me out for five days. And Chicory had warned me their mind-warping magic was potent. I mean, hell, it had turned the Elders against one another, almost toppled them. I had resisted thus far, but would listening to Connell’s account endanger that?

“You’ll send me back as soon as you’re done?” I asked.

“We’ll give you time to change into some clothes, of course.”

I bristled at his attempted humor. “And if I don’t investigate your claims you’ll, what, pull me back here?”

“We don’t have that kind of power, Everson. We can pull, but you would have to push. You’d have to be willing, in other words. But it’s a moot point. You’ll want to investigate.”

I didn’t like his self-assuredness. But for a chance to be sent back, especially if the Order was slow on the uptake… I snuck a peek at the plum-colored flame that didn’t seem to concern Connell. I would keep an iron-clad hold on my skepticism, I decided. The second I felt my mind starting to bend, I would block out what he was saying and re-center myself.

“Fine. Tell me.”

Connell nodded. “I received a similar training to yours. We all did. You know the story of the First Saints, Michael’s nine children, how the Order came to be. That much of our history is true. You also heard the account of the rebellion in which Lich tried to overthrow his siblings.”

Not wanting to give Connell a finger hold in my thoughts, I simply looked back at him.

“Lich made a pact with an ancient being called Dhuul. Chaos itself. In exchange for the power he felt he’d been denied, Lich sacrificed his soul to Dhuul and pledged to help him into our world. By his very nature, Dhuul reduces systems of order to darkness and madness.”

Chicory hadn’t told me that part of the story. Because it’s a lie, I reminded myself.

“So, yes, Lich did die, but not at the hands of the Elders. He rose as an undead being, a demigod, in full possession of Whisperer magic. And with that magic, he slaughtered his eight siblings.”

“Bullshit,” I said, unable to help myself.

He ignored the remark. “No more Elders. No more Order.”

“Then who in the hell have I been working under for the last ten years?”

“Lich,” Connell said. “After destroying the Elders, he used the same magic to create the illusion that the First Order continued to exist. Then, assuming various guises, he murdered the

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