I was finding it difficult to look at anything. My eyelids were so heavy. I raised my fingers to his shirt. He cupped my head against his chest. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Where did they take you?”

I shook my head. Nick stroked my sweaty hair. It was soothing. I wanted to stay. I didn’t want them to take me back to that place.

“Paige, don’t you dare close your eyes. Tell me where those bastards took you.”

I shook my head again. There was no way I could tell him, not without my voice.

“Come on, sötnos. You have to tell me where it is. So I can find you again, like I did before. Remember?”

I had to tell him. He had to know. I couldn’t die without telling him where it was. I had to save the others, the other voyants in the lost city. But now I could see a silhouette, an outline of a man. Not a man.

Rephaite.

My fingers were covered in blood. I reached for the wall and traced the first three letters. Nick looked at it.

“Oxford,” he said. “They took you to Oxford?”

I let my hand fall. The faceless man was moving through the darkness. Nick looked up.

“No.” His muscles tightened. “I’m taking you home,” he said, starting to lift me. “I won’t let them take you there again.”

He pulled a pistol from his jacket. I wrapped my arm around his neck. I wanted him to try and run, to save me from another poppy field—but he’d die if I let him. We would both die. The shadow would dog our footsteps to the Dials. I tugged at his shirt, shaking my head, but he didn’t understand. The shadow fell across our path. Nick gripped the gun tighter, his knuckles white, and he pulled the trigger. Once, twice. I screamed behind sealed lips. Nick, run! He couldn’t hear, he couldn’t know. The gun fell from his hand, and all the blood was drawn from his face. A giant, gloved hand gripped his throat. With the last of my strength, I tried to force it away.

“She comes with me.” It was Warden, and he looked demonic. “Run, oracle.”

My grip on life was slipping. I heard Nick’s heart against my ear, felt his fingers lock across my back. The light ebbed. Death had come.

22 The Triple Fool

22

The Triple Fool

Time became a series of moments, interspersed with blank spots. Sometimes there were lights. Sometimes there were voices. I had the sense that I was in a car for a while, a kind of swaying motion.