Page 44 of The Dragon and the Dove

‘Run on ahead,’ said Ransom, ushering the younger ones on. ‘We’ll be right behind you.’

He lingered by the treeline waiting for Theo to collect his satchel.

‘If you’re spoiling to have an argument, I’m not biting,’ said the Shadowsmith, stalking past him.

Ransom went after him. ‘Save us both the trouble. Give me the truth this time.’

Theo walked on.

Ransom grabbed his shoulder to pull him back and felt that ripping sensation again. He stumbled. ‘Fuck.’

Versini shook him off. ‘Get your hands off me, Hale,’ he said, his eyes glinting.

Ransom’s magic surged. Stay back, it warned.

Like hell he would.

‘Keep walking and I’ll drag you back here,’ he threatened.

‘With what?’ Versini sneered.

Ransom had killed hundreds of marks with his bare hands. His shadows might not hold against Versini but he could do it without them if he had to.

Stepping in close, he said, ‘What kind of saint are you, Versini? What divine gift did the descendant of the most evil man in Fantome wrench from the hand of destiny? What did you make Seraphine suffer to give you?’

‘I told you,’ he said through his teeth. ‘The ritual failed.’

‘You’re lying.’

The Shadowsmith curled his lip. ‘You’re raving, Hale. What you felt just now was the rebound of your own twisted magic. Are you really so surprised that the darkness inside you would betray you? That, like its wielder, it can’t be trusted?’

A whisper of doubt crept in.

Versini smirked, sensing it. ‘There is no secret here. Just the erosion of your own sense. All those shadows are eating away at your mind. I’m surprised there’s any of you left at all.’

It was not such a reach to imagine that one day the darkness might bury him entirely. That his shredded soul would not survive the voracious appetite of his magic, but there was no mistaking the gleam in Versini’s eye. Or the cool prickle of his own magic, hissing, Run.

But from what? What was the dark in him so afraid of? What kind of magic could frighten death itself?

‘You’re lying,’ Ransom growled. ‘And I’m going to find out why.’

‘Make me your enemy if you like, Hale,’ said Versini, turning from him. ‘Waste your time. I’m going to devote mine to helping the woman you claim to love.’

It was a clean parting shot.

Both seething, they stalked through the trees towards House Armand, where a figure was pacing by the outer wall.

‘That looks like a scholar from the Appoline,’ said Versini, noting the hooded blue robe.

‘Or an assassin in disguise,’ cautioned Ransom. Anyone could don a scholar’s robe.

Theo vaulted ahead, ignoring his warning.

Ransom cast out a flock of ravens.

The scholar stumbled, covering his face as the birds circled above his head.

Versini glared at Ransom over his shoulder. ‘That’s hardly necessary.’