Page 25 of The Edge of Darkness

“Younglings, not even into their adolescence.” Remic’s voice was pained, angry.

Morah stood and approached the nearest one.

I scanned the vast space we were in and took in the sheer scale of it. Then, my eyes snagged on the slots in the wall that were still open, waiting to be filled . . . all of them pointing to the altar which Fallon had been kept on.

Panic washed over me, along with the realization . . .

This was no ordinary crypt. It was Ramil’s sacrificial crypt.

“Morah!” I called out in warning. “Don’t!”

“What is . . .” Her eyes scanned the walls until she came to the same realization we had. She jerked her attention back to the crypts. “No . . .” Her face contorted with shock, and she stumbled back, shaking her head in denial. Everywhere she looked, she was met with another small mound with no name plate. “No, no, no!” Her voice cracked.

They were no bigger than a human child would have been. Some of the mounds looked even smaller than that. Younglings. All dead. And Fallon had been kept amongst their corpses like an animal sent to slaughter.

The very real possibility that they had all been murdered and siphoned empty of their power by Ramil leached into my mind like acid. What kind of being could do such a thing? Who would be capable of draining young ones dry for their power?

A monster.

Remic finally reached my side and took a protective hold of my arm. “I don’t like this,” he said. “We need to get out of here.”

Just as soon as he’d voiced his concern, the tension in the chamber shifted, and we turned to see the monster himself, standing in the entryway.

Ramil stared us down, the dark swath of fabric around his face and head concealing what I knew was a menacing smirk. As if he were entering a prayer chamber, he kept his hands clasped across his abdomen, appearing to have already considered himself triumphant.

Remic pulled me back toward the altar at the center of the room, and Niall was instantly at my side, growling low at our enemy. Morah, still in shock, remained standing in front of the crypts.

I felt my power shift under my skin, like a cat’s fur stands on end when it’s threatened. I threw my shield up and turned to see Roirdan placing Fallon against the stone altar behind us. He cast his shield out over Maeson, who still hovered over Fallon’s unconscious body, diligently placing herbs under his tongue while whispering what sounded like an incantation. She quickly tied a cloth around his nose and mouth to stop the further inhalation of the poison-laced air.

Ramil assessed Niall first, not seeming to care that Fallon was no longer on his deathbed. “I wondered how long it would take someone to come for you. I have to admit, the arrival was earlier than I anticipated.”

He took his time surveying each of us. When his eyes landed on his daughter, she began backing toward us until she was in Roirdan’s protective grasp. Then, Ramil narrowed his stare on me. “What really surprises me is who came on this little rescue mission, and how you got into my territory in the first place. Just how is it that a half-breed bitch managed to sway the infamous Trium to her side?”

Niall’s shadows pulsed out around his shoulders.

Ramil’s eyes squinted as if he were once again smiling beneath the wrappings that covered his face. “Good to see you’re functioning on some fronts, High Lord. But not all, I would bet.” When none of us offered a response, he took a step forward, perusing our group again, noting exactly who was absent. “Your spy is missing.”

Morah shifted uneasily at Roirdan’s side.

“Shame, it would have pleased me to see him in chains for his treason.”

“Aremis had nothing to do with this!” Morah hissed.

“Didn’t he? Who told you where your brother was? Hmm? Who kept a watchful eye on him all those years? Oh yes, I knew exactly what he was doing when he came down to these catacombs on ‘patrol.’ He only got away with it because he never tried anything as foolish as you have.”

Remic’s hands flexed near the daggers at his thighs.

“Why?” Morah demanded. “Why did you do it?”

“Why else?” Ramil shrugged. “For power. If you’d only been patient, you would’ve seen it all come to fruition and shared in the wealth of⁠—"

“Wealth?” Morah snapped. “What about life? What about them?” She jabbed her finger toward the alcove.

Ramil didn’t even deign to look over at the crypts that held the remains of dozens of innocents. “The younglings?” He scoffed. “Such a shame about them too. All males. All born with nothing of real significance.”

Morah grimaced. “They were your experiments?”

“Yes. Until your brother came along. And then, the gods blessed me with you, daughter.”