Chapter 198

PIPER

The relic glowed under the dim light that managed to sieve through the thick canopy. There was something different about its glow, like it was some living thing which breathed power and danger. I knelt before it, my fingers hovering over its rough surface.

Warrick’s voice cut through the stillness, sharp and angry. “Piper, don’t. You don’t know what that thing will do.”

I looked at him, his face a mask of concern and frustration. “And if I don’t do something, what happens then? Aurora’s drowning, Trajan’s captured, Dane’s gone—tell me, Warrick, what happens if I just stand by?”

He moved closer, his hand reaching out to stop me, it seemed. “We don’t even know what it is. What if you make things worse?”

I spun back to the relic, my jaw clenching. “Worse than this? I’ll take my chances.”

“Piper.” His voice gentled, almost pleading now. “This isn’t the way.”

I faced him fully now, anger boiling over. “And what is? Hiding? Waiting? Watching everyone around us suffer while we do nothing?”

His eyes searched for mine, and for a moment, I saw something unguarded there—fear, perhaps. Not of himself, but of me. “I’m trying to protect you.”

I faltered. My determination stopped for one heartbeat. Then I turned back to the relic. “I don’t need your protection, Warrick.”

Before he could say another word, I laid my hand on the relic.

In an instant, the air moved around me, thick and electric. The glow coming from the relic brightened as its face rippled, like water into which someone had thrown a stone. My ears whined with the low noise that grew louder by the second. My heart thundered against my ribs, its rhythm matching the pulsing of the relic’s light.

“Piper, stop!” Warrick yelled, launching himself toward me.

But it was too late.

A sudden, sharp pain shot through my hand and I cried out, trying to pull away. My hand was stuck, as if it had fused to the relic. Warrick grabbed my arm, trying to yank me back, but some energy from the relic lashed out and sent him sprawling backward.

“Piper!” he yelled, his voice filled with panic.

I couldn’t say. The artifact’s power roared through me, wild and endless, filling my every inch. Visions came at me flashing fast, weird symbols, weird shadows, and then Warrick.

I gasped as something clicked into place inside, an unseen line connecting us. Warrick clutched at his chest, twisted in pain.

“What’s going on?” he said, fighting to his feet.

The glow of the artifact stopped and my hand was released.

I stumbled backward, clutching my chest as a strange sensation flowered there—it was like a second heart, steady and unyielding.

I turned to Warrick, who stared back at me, his face a mix of confusion and horror.

“I… I feel you,” he whispered.

I nodded, unable even to speak as it dawned on me. We were connected. Something the relic had done was binding them in a very personal and overwhelming way.

“What have you done?” Warrick shouted, his voice rising. “What just happened, Piper?”

“I didn’t mean to,” I said, my voice shaking. “I just…”

“You just couldn’t listen!” he snarled; the anger burst out. “I told you not to touch it, and look at us now!”

“I was trying to help!” I erupted. “You think I wanted this?”

He opened his mouth to respond, but his face suddenly paled. He clutched at his chest again, and I felt it—a sharp, stabbing pain, like a knife twisting inside me. I doubled over, gasping.

“What… what is this?” I managed to get out, my voice barely above a whisper.

Warrick winced, his breathing short and ragged. “The relic… it’s cursed.”

It felt like I had been punched in the stomach. The relic, which had bound them to each other, also actually put a curse on them.

We stumbled back to the clearing, every step an effort. The bond between us was always there, tugging and twisting through my head in ways that seemed to make it spin.

When we finally reached the edge of the forest, Warrick fell to the earth, white-faced, dripping in sweat.

I sat down beside him, still clutching the relic in my hands, its glow hypnotic, now a reminder of how wrong I had been.

“We gotta figure out how to break this,” I said, shaking.

Warrick laughed darkly, throwing his head back against a tree. “You think? But how, Piper? You have some kind of magic guidebook I don’t know about?”

I tried to ignore the sarcasm, my mind racing. “There has to be a way. Maybe the symbols I saw—”

“Symbols?” he interrupted, eyes narrowing. “What symbols?”

I swallowed hard and plunged into a description of the cryptic symbol flashes that had crossed my mind when I’d touched the relic.

Again, Warrick’s face changed, frustration melting into something else—hope, perhaps.

“I’ve seen those symbols before,” he said slowly. “In one of the Nameless’ tombs.”

“Do you remember what they mean?” I asked urgently.

He shook his head. “Not all of them. But one… it represented severance.”

“Severance,” I whispered, rolling the word over in my mouth.

Warrick nodded gravely. “If we can understand the rest of the symbols, maybe we can figure out how to break this bond.”

“Where do we start?” I asked, desperation clear in my voice.

He nodded toward the relic. “The answers are probably in there. But figuring them out won’t be easy.”

We spent hours poring over this relic, which literally almost seemed to move and change on its surface as we did so. The symbols were at once the same; their meaning lay deep beneath the layered meanings of cryptic design.

Warrick and I worked in tense silence; our bond was a real reminder that the stakes were constantly high. Every time one or the other of us had a frustrating or impatient feeling, it would react through a wave of discomfort in both.

Finally, after what felt like eternity, I found something to say—a pattern in the symbols, a repeating sequence with every few rotations the relic went through.

“Warrick, look,” I said, pointing to the symbols. “It’s a cycle.”

He leaned closer, his brow furrowing. “You’re right. It’s like… a lock. And this is the key.”

We had the sequence now, fitted together; our combined efforts slowly unraveling the secrets of the relic. But the more we unraveled, the more a chilling realization began to take shape.

“To break the curse,” Warrick said, his voice low, “we have to sever the bond.”

I nodded, my throat clenching. “But how?”

He hesitated, then his gaze met mine.