Page 236 of The Bonds of Indigo

“You know the plan. We don’t stray from it,” I say, my tone devoid of humor. “You understand, little slayer?” Looking at her, I can see she’s calculating. “We go in together. Only once we’ve got Atlas do we give them the mirror, and then we leave.”

“He’s all that matters⁠—”

“No. Wrong.” I step in front of her, grab her face, and lift her eyes to mine. “You are all that matters. I don’t want Atlas to die, truly, but you are what’s most important. This is a trap, and we just have to stay diligent about making it out.”

Lucifer steps up beside us. “We’ll do everything to make sure he gets out, but when push comes to shove, you’re the priority.”

The moment her lip trembles, she presses it tightly together. “Okay.”

“If they refuse or deviate from the promise, you will leave with Lucifer, and I will attempt to get Atlas.”

I know she hated that part, but I reminded her that I tussled with Belial. It wouldn’t be a challenge to snap a few Hexborn necks. Though she quickly pointed out that fighting a physical being and fighting magic are two different things.

Tomato, ta-mato.

“That’s a last option.” She lets out a soft sigh. “We’ll all go home together. I won’t allow for it any other way.”

“I couldn’t have said it better myself.”

She gives me a tight smile before looking up at Lucifer, who moves in to press his lips to hers. He doesn’t say anything, just shifts his gaze to me and nods. I return it and step out of her way.

“Are you certain they can’t release the one in the mirror?” Mister asks.

“They can’t, I’m certain,” she says as we step through the bushes and approach the single-building warehouse. It’s fully metal, and while I don’t see whatever spell she mentioned earlier, I do smell something odd. It’s like burning grass. Or hay. I’m not entirely sure, and it’s difficult to pinpoint because I’ve never smelled it before now.

“Enlighten me,” he presses.

“I’ll explain later. Just trust that they can’t let her out.”

I think I can deduce why. She mentioned the vessel was destroyed upon her entry into the mirror. Nothing to return to.

But her comment about sacrificing a soul to bring back a Necroth the way Yesenia did for Rane, makes me wonder if it’s possible to bring a mind back to a body that wasn’t theirs to begin with.

Amarah is confident, so I am too.

She stops just a few feet from a steel door that’s cracked open. Her head tilts, and she looks to Thornwyn. “Stay with Mister. You’ll know if something is wrong.”

He nods.

“Stay safe. That is an order.”

I push open the door, and Lucifer steps in first. My little slayer follows him, and I come in behind her. The subtle shift between outside and inside is just a temperature drop—not intense, but enough to tell me we’ve stepped into the spell she mentioned.

We move through a small corridor toward another cracked door. It’s dark in here, and even I can see perfectly fine, I’m sure Amarah is struggling. That’s likely why she suddenly starts channeling. Her hand lifts, and surrounding her open, relaxed fingers is the same golden light that I associate with her magic. It flickers like a flame, and as I reach out to test it, no heat radiates from it.

Fascinating.

Luce pushes the next door open, and as we step into the open warehouse, something feels wrong.

My nose twitches, and I swear I smell blood. But it’s like something is blocking the sense from fully functioning. It’s strange, and I don’t particularly like it.

This place looks like a maintenance building. A train car sits off to the far left, and towering metal shelves line the walls, empty of boxes or material. It isn’t completely bare—there are scattered items along the walls—but the center is wide open.

And that’s where two individuals stand. Both I recognize instantly. Beside them is a chair, and sitting in it… Atlas.

I hear Amarah’s heartbeat spike, and I assume she sees him too. She doesn’t bolt toward him, which I’m proud of her for.

We move slowly. I sweep my gaze across the space, but there’s no one else here. I hear only five heartbeats. And mine. That’s good. My friend is alive, though beaten badly.