They reached out with silvery hands, clawing for me but not leaving their place at the wall. Phantoms couldn’t touch you, but they didn’t need to. The pain hit me as they went for my mind. The cold tendrils of their dark magic reached inside my head, weaseling through my brain. I stumbled as the pain pierced me like an icepick through the eye.
They were going for my worst memories, but they didn’t know that those were hidden from me by the pain that welled every time I tried to uncover them. My stomach lurched at the torture, and I nearly vomited as they pushed harder inside my head. I stumbled to my knees. Aidan’s big hands lifted me to my feet. He started to pick me up, but even through my pain, my stubbornness surged.
I took care of myself or I wasn’t Cass Clereaux. I didn’t know my past self—I wasn’t about to lose my present self as well. Sweat dampened my skin as I ran, trying to get past the Phantoms as quickly as possible.
The worst of the pain was fading as the Phantoms abandoned my memories in favor of my fears. An image of my deirfiúr being thrown into the Prison for Magical Miscreants tore through my mind. The cell was dank and dark and the iron bars thick.
Horror lurched in my belly, but at least the pain had faded enough that I could run. If I’d slowed, I knew that Aidan would have thrown me over his shoulder.
My lungs burned as we raced down the corridor, our feet pounding on the stone. The rancid air that I sucked into my lungs tasted foul, but I needed it. Even Aidan’s breathing sounded loud beside me.
Darkness loomed ahead, and gratitude welled within me. No glowing silver light meant no more Phantoms lining the walls.
We burst through into a small, dark chamber and stumbled to a halt, panting.
“Why did they keep saying traitor?” Aidan asked, leaning on his knees.
I glanced up at him from my similar position. “Your worst memories or your greatest fears. It’s their weapon.”
I wondered if being a traitor was his worst memory or his greatest fear, but he was silent. I was just grateful he hadn’t heard them saying FireSoul. Only I had heard that. Phantoms didn’t speak the way humans did—they just reflected your fears back at you, using your mind. Though it was hell to be around them, I didn’t have to worry about them spreading my secret because they didn’t communicate normally.
“I’d bet the phantom monks built this place when they were alive,” I said. “When they died, they stuck around as phantoms to protect it.”
“What, they were a rival holy order that stole the scroll?”
“Yeah, maybe. All the carvings on the walls back there—that was just a compilation of collected knowledge. Maps, drawings, writing. Maybe they heard about the scroll and wanted to add it to their collection.”
“So they stole it from the Irish monks.” He nodded. “Makes sense.”
“I think we’re in an antechamber,” I said as I looked around the room. It was dark and nearly empty. Two stone benches lined either wall, and there was a huge wooden door ahead of us.
I drew my daggers, then glanced at Aidan. He had no weapons—but then, he didn’t need them. I approached the door.
“Ready?” I asked Aidan.
He nodded and I pushed open the left door.
“Ohh damn,” I breathed.
Soaring shelves piled high with treasure filled the cavernous space. Gold, ivory, and precious stones blinked at me. Weapons and dishes and books and jewelry made from every precious substance known to man filled the enormous room. Covetousness surged within me. These weren’t my usual treasures, but I could make space in my trove. I could clear out the leather jackets and books and fill it with everything that sparkled in this wonderland.
A terrifying roar startled me out of my stupor. I jumped. Beside me, Aidan had changed into a griffon, his wings and fur as golden as the treasures around me.
When I looked back at the room, I saw the demons for the first time. I’d missed them because of the gold. They scaled every shelf, crawling like giant spiders searching for something, though they had the normal number of limbs. There were more than a dozen of them, and all were man-shaped and dark gray. Were they looking for the scroll too?
Had to be. These were the individuals that Aidan’s seer had prophesied to be looking for the scroll.
One turned and threw a blast of burning smoke at Aidan, who dodged it in mid-air.
Holy magic, they were shadow demons. Like the one who’d called me a FireSoul just the other day. I hadn’t been sure if the ones on the monks’ island were the same because they hadn’t thrown smoke. Just looking similar didn’t make them the same. But the smoke throwing sure as heck did.
Coincidence?
No way. I’d gone my whole life without someone calling me out on what I was. Now I’d seen them three times. Too many times to ignore.
They all had to die.
I charged into the room as Aidan launched himself into the air. His wings beat powerfully as he soared to the top of the shelves and pulled the demons off with his front claws. He tore them apart, a gruesome but efficient job.
The thud of bodies sounded around me.