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Have said before, calling banshee an insult, she muttered. Am better.

Yeah, you are, I agreed. Sorry.

She preened at that, and her noise died down to a background scratch. I scanned the building from left to right, but the surface appeared unbroken by either windows or doors. There had to be some way of getting in, though. After all, the Dušan had been following Malin’s trail and this was where we’d stopped.

With little in the way of options, I stepped forward and pressed a hand against the building’s luminous side. Warmth pulsed under my fingertips. It felt like a heartbeat, and instinct suggested this place was oddly alive and aware. I shivered and hoped like hell this was one of those occasions when instinct was wrong.

As the pulsing got stronger, light began to flare softly across the building’s warm surface. Ripples of energy rolled away from my touch, growing ever stronger, until the whole building seemed to shimmer. Then a black crack appeared to the right of my fingertips. It bloomed rapidly across the surface, until it had formed an inky stain the size of a basketball.

In, Amaya said. Hunt we must.

I’m not going to fit—

Will, she cut in. Believe.

Azriel had urged the same thing, but it was kinda hard to do when the world kept sending you into a tailspin. But again, it wasn’t like I had a lot of other choices, not if I wanted to stop Malin from doing whatever she intended to do inside this place.

I gripped Amaya tighter, closed my eyes, and imagined myself arrowing through that circle.

Energy tingled through me; then there was a brief sense of movement. I opened my eyes and saw darkness. Complete and utter darkness. Not even Amaya’s flames were able to break the depressing weight of it. But I could feel her warmth in my hand, and that was at least some comfort.

I glanced over my shoulder and noticed that the Dušan was still outside, her serpentine form flowing back and forth across the entrance hole I’d created, her agitation evident in every lilac inch.

No come, Amaya said. Outside must stay.

“Well, that’s damned inconvenient,” I muttered, although it wasn’t entirely surprising. The Dušan hadn’t been able to enter my father’s quarters, either. “Any idea where the hell we’re supposed to go in this ink?”

Something, Amaya said. Hides.

My grip on her tightened. Is it Malin?

Tell not, she said. Black heavy.

Where?

Left. Find will.

Yeah, I thought grimly, but will it be us finding her, or her finding us? And how the hell was I supposed to fight in this goddamn ink?

You will tell me if I’m about to crash into something, won’t you? I said, and flowed forward cautiously.

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Something suspiciously like a chuckle ran across the rear of my thoughts, although she didn’t actually answer. I held her out in front of me, so that if I did run into something, she’d at least hit it first. We moved through the ink for what seemed like hours, but maybe that was a side effect of having absolutely no sensory input, and no clue as to what might lie underneath night’s cloak.

Here, Amaya said eventually. Stop.

I did so and once again scanned the blackness around us. I still had no sense of anything or anyone . . . and yet, there was an oddly different feel to the air here. It felt . . . anticipatory.

Damn it, I needed to see!

Then lift, Amaya said.

Lift what? I took a step forward. Movement stirred the ink, and it wasn’t mine.

The dark.

I took several more steps forward. Again there was an answering echo of movement, and a deep, oddly unclean energy began to stir around us. It stung my being, the sensation unpleasant. I can’t lift this, Amaya.


Tags: Keri Arthur Dark Angels Fantasy