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Shadow Magic (Darkling Mage 1)

Page 57

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My mouth fell open. That would explain so much. “Are you?”

Carver shrugged. “Who can say?” I looked to Sterling and Gil, who said nothing.

“Rooms to your left,” Sterling said wearily. “Yours is the last in the hall. Go get settled.” He turned to Carver. “If you don’t need me for the rest of the night,

I’m gonna go look for food.”

Yikes. Food? Carver nodded wordlessly.

“I’ll come with,” Gil said. “Nice night out.”

I wondered if that meant that he was going to hunt, too. What did werewolves eat, anyway? I shuddered to think. The two of them headed back down the hall and out of the shimmering amber portal we had entered through, which I now saw was suspended precisely between the outstretched arms of two disturbingly lifelike statues of human skeletons.

Carver pointed to the right of the massive statue we were standing next to. “My office is down that way. I’d like you to come and see me once you get settled. I trust you’ll find your accommodations suitable, but feel free to tell me if there’s anything else you’ll need.”

I nodded and we headed in opposite directions. If I didn’t have any context Carver could have sounded just like the night manager at some really fancy – and really niche – hotel, but it made me consider my position when I realized he was being so, well, hospitable. Too hospitable, maybe?

There were precisely three doors in the hallway I’d been asked to go down. The first was shut. The second was closed, too, and had a sign on the knob that said “Keep out!” in bold red letters, the kind of thing a teenager would hang on their bedroom door. I snickered, positive that it was Sterling’s room. The final room’s door was ajar. I had to restrain a gasp when I got there.

The room was brightly lit with incandescent lights fixed into the ceiling, and a couple of quite contemporary-looking lamps. Approximately everything was hewn from stone – the makeshift desk, the side tables to either side of the bed, even the empty set of shelves that looked perfect for displaying books, or knickknacks.

There was a loose assortment of tasteful furniture for the bits that wouldn’t have been practical if made from stone, like the cabinets and the swivel chair by the desk, or the very plush-looking couch and carpet. The room even had an ample amount of electrical outlets, ready for someone to plug in a phone charger. I wasn’t wrong about my initial assumption: this may as well have been a suite in some really luxe and really specific hotel. The mattress was plush, too, the kind you wanted to just lie in forever. It was easily the nicest room I’d ever get to live in.

The thought gave me pause. I was, quite basically, sleeping with the enemy. I knew it looked like this was me consorting with the Bad Guys, but come on. Considering what I’d gone through with Thea, there truly was no telling who was who anymore. Where was I meant to draw the line between good and evil? Everything looked better in gray, as far as I was concerned, and working with Carver meant getting answers, more, at least, than I was getting from Thea and the Lorica.

Plus I had an inkling that Carver wouldn’t be the type to turn around and sacrifice his employees at a moment’s notice. Call it a hunch. Gil didn’t look too bad, either. Quiet guy, but he seemed pretty decent. Of course, I had no real experience of how he might behave during a full moon, but hey, I liked to believe in the best in people.

Sterling could get annoying at times, but nothing worse than Bastion, and I knew I could handle that. Only real problem would be if he had any habit of creeping into people’s rooms to suck their blood at night. My hand went to my throat reflexively, and I checked on the door. Ah, a lock on the knob, and a sliding bolt. Good. Whatever else Carver was, it looked like he at least respected privacy.

Unpacking was uneventful, and Herald’s magical bag of magic spat out my belongings in the reverse order of how I had put them in. Soon I had everything sorted into the cabinets and onto the stone shelves. I stood with my hands at my hips, proud that I had managed to fit my entire life into this fancy shmancy bedroom.

I dipped my hand into the backpack again, just to make sure I’d gotten everything, but as I groped around, my fingers made contact with something unfamiliar. The hairs at the back of my neck prickled. What the hell was this long, heavy thing? Had Herald forgotten something in there? Or – wait. Had he intended for me to find it all along?

I pulled out the object – the sword – and grinned, beside myself with excitement.

“Vanitas,” I muttered. Hot damn, Herald. What a parting gift.

“Graves,” the sword said, a rumble of contentment in his telepathic voice.

“I was wondering why Herald so violently wanted me to turn this backpack inside out.”

“Yeah. Bit stuffy in there. Put me somewhere I can air out, will you?”

“You don’t breathe.”

“And you don’t know what it’s like being pressed up against all your underwear.” The sword gave a little huff. “Honestly, Dustin, how many pairs of boxers do you need?”

“Yeah, I missed you too, buddy.”

I gave Vanitas his own place of honor on an empty stone shelf. He looked impressive there, the greenish-gold of his tarnish glowing eerily in the lamplight.

“Catch up later,” I said. “Gotta go talk things out with my new boss.”

Vanitas didn’t answer, but I heard a mild scraping as he shifted on the shelf, apparently already getting comfortable with his new surroundings.

I made my way back down the hall, passed the giant statue, and entered another corridor much like the one housing our quarters. This one had no doors to either side, though, just more pillars and hidden lights. My footsteps rang into the vast emptiness of the strange dimension, the sound of them fading into nothingness.

At the end, the corridor opened up into a massive room, so huge that I couldn’t see the walls, the floors just stretching out into void. In the middle sat Carver, at an impressive stone desk set with amber jewels. Two ornately carved wooden chairs sat across his desk, each finished with lush scarlet upholstery. He gestured at one of them as he saw me approaching, beckoning me to take a seat.



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