Page 147 of Elysian

I wished we could fall into each other. That we could escape, but I told that woman I would fetch her.

“I have a few things I must do.”

One was to see where Al had gone. He had caused far too much damage to leave him free in the realm.

CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

Mess

Istepped over one of the many bodies littered across the Hall. Cassiel had not only dispatched council members, it seemed he had also slaughtered part of the Guard with the amount of deceased.

I couldn’t contain my horrified look toward Cassiel.

“They tried to attack me,” Cassiel explained, shrugging.

Striding through the corpse-filled halls was . . . different. At each entryway, officers no longer stood guard. The doorways lay empty, doors ajar to the connecting halls. I slowed beside a familiar slack face. Officer Jahrod lay among the sprawled deceased, a slice across his throat. This was where blind loyalty had led him.

I rubbed my chilled arms. Cassiel strode beside me in a casual glide as we sought the hidden passage that led to the kitchen. Cassiel slowed, head cocked. His eyes narrowed. I had to put more effort into my stride to reach him.

The entrance to Al’s workshop was ajar.

I drifted toward it.

“What are you doing?” He was much too focused.

“Taking a small detour?” he drawled, moving in front of me to take the lead. I descended behind him. Al had three valises scattered about, glass strewn across the ground, and was currently stuffing parchment away. In true Al fashion, he seemed to be spread thin, not knowing what to escape with.

Dread kindled at my breastbone and settled in my stomach, and I knew. “Cassiel!” I screamed.

He moved—rapid, fluid—and caught the sword in his palm mid-arc toward his neck before wrenching it away from the officer. Blood dripped from his hand. With his other hand, he wound it around the officer’s throat and squeezed. A snap left us in silence.

“Dearie, I am relieved to see you alive,” Al said, hands wringing. I eyed him skeptically. “I speak the truth.”

His smile trembled, and his focus continued darting to Cassiel. He moved backwards. To any onlooker, it would seem he was nervous, but the Al I had watched was more intelligent than he liked to make others think.

“Did you plan to flee?” I asked in an even manner, watching his every step. I eyed the shelf paces behind him.

“Not at all!” he exclaimed. “I have seen the truth. The Saints have brought light to me. All the damage I have caused must be repented.”

“You are a coward,” I said, not believing a word.

“It may be, but I cannot bear torture.”

“Is that why you are moving toward the Elixir?” The inky liquid sat in a jar on his desk. His gaze skittered away.

“N-not at all!”

“Did you know it came from the cenote?” I stepped forward, matching the distance he retreated.

He stopped backing away.

“You know of it?” he breathed. “Have you seen it? I have heard tales of—” He looked down at the blade protruding from his chest. He swayed and toppled over, falling with a thud, leaving Eliza within view.

“I have waited to do that,” Eliza sneered at Al’s body.

Her hands shook. She stood in the redblood servant gown. I stood frozen. Al lay dead on the ground with Eliza standing over him, her chest heaving.

“Please,” she cried, looking over my shoulder, then at me. “I kept Piper’s body safe. A-and your charge, Miriam Bjorn. I helped her.”