“Right.”
“I’m presuming you need fire to fully tap into your gifts. You’ll certainly need to maintain your energy if you’re going to do this.”
“Great. What am I supposed to do, set myself ablaze?”
Adrian reached into the bag and set a copper bowl, similar to the scrying bowl I had at home, on the ground. From his pocket, he pulled a crumbled piece of paper and tossed it inside before striking a match to light a small fire.
“Move the flames,” he said.
I focused intently on lifting them until they hovered over the bowl, then I lowered them back into place.
“No energy drain,” I said. “But we don’t have time for me to practice.”
Adrian packed everything away and sat back. “Trust, Sophia.”
Trust wouldn’t cut it. I had no idea what to expect. Going into things without a solid plan—admittedly, that had me on the verge of panic.
“I sense your uncertainty,” Adrian said.
I shook my head. “It’s silly, really.”
“Best you tell us now.”
Charles dipped his face closer to mine. “Sophia, if something is bothering you, please speak up.”
My shoulders sank, and I gazed at Adrian. “It’s just kind of weird how you know all this stuff. The books you have, knowing where this place is, the passages…” I stared at my wrist, spinning the coils on the bracelet Charles had given me and twisting the beads. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to sound like I’m accusing you of anything.”
Adrian’s expression was unreadable. “It’s fine.” He pulled a wallet from his jacket, slipped out a picture, and handed it to me. “My parents.”
The photograph was of a middle-aged couple with the same dark skin and kind eyes as Adrian. By the way they clung to one another, each resting a hand on a young boy’s shoulder, it was clear their family was built on love.
I pointed to the boy. “This is you?”
“Before I was turned.”
“How did you get this? Photography wasn’t invented until—”
“Our world has always been far ahead of your own, Sophia.”
I shook my head, my gaze returning to the photograph. “So what happened to them?”
“They were human informants for the Maltorim. I was born inside those walls…raised there.”
I returned the photo and slumped back against the alley wall. “I didn’t know.”
“They told me my parents died during the elemental war, back in the 1600s. After that, they took me in and raised me to take my father’s place.” Adrian’s jaw tensed for such a brief moment that I wasn’t sure I’d seen any movement at all. “They decided to turn me.”
His gaze shifted from me to Charles then back again. “I was sent to fight in the war, killing the dual-breeds. I worked alongside Charles, though we weren’t friends at the time. When I noticed he always held back from making a kill, I confronted him, and another Cruor overheard. They thought I was the one allowing the dual-natured to go free, and they tried to kill me. In Charles’ anger, he shifted and killed those men to save me. It was then I realized he himself was dual-natured.
“Since then,” he continued, “I’ve left the Maltorim, though I’m certain they have never truly let me go. Thalia’s clan seems to always be near. When Charles arrived in the area with Blake and Adonis, he joined her clan to try to gain inside information on my behalf, though nothing much came of it.”
I closed my eyes. In my heart, I’d always trusted Adrian. It was my mind I remained in constant battle with. When I opened my eyes, Adrian tilted his head, his expression curious.
“What?” I asked.
“You could have taken that from my thoughts, no?”
“I try not to do that to my friends.”
Adrian cleared his throat.
“You never thought of it while I was listening,” I amended.
“The truth comes out.” Adrian grinned and turned toward Charles. “Are you ready?”
Charles was staring out toward the main road, but at the sound of Adrian’s voice, he glanced at his watch. “It’s time.”
Chapter 25
ADRIAN LED US through a labyrinth of alleyways where stray dogs scratched at soiled potato peels spilling from overturned garbage bins and nearby shop owners scared them away by banging their alley doors with metal spoons. Though cars, trucks, and taxis clogged the roadways, we trudged by on foot, not wanting to bring anyone else closer to the horrors of the Maltorim.
As we reached the outskirts of the city, I held my breath against the stench of exhaust fumes and sewage and fly-infested fish that must have fallen from a truck earlier in the day. The buzzing of insects was a cruel reminder of my curse, a sound I couldn’t shut out. Whenever I was too stressed to concentrate, there it was—the buzzing in my mind, overwhelming my ability to focus on the voices.
“I don’t think I can do this,” I said.
Charles swiveled toward me. “Then don’t. I never asked you to.”