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“Then you’ll need to jump from me to save yourself if I cannot get us away. Once you are on the Tapestry, your soul will feel like all the others that rest within the threads. I will not be able to find you until your soul returns to your body.”

“But Jinx… what if I get lost in the Tapestry?”

“You’ll be safe and eventually become one within the Tapestry like all other souls.”

I pause, frowning. “Wait. I’ll die if I’m in the threads? How long do I have before getting absorbed?”

“I have no idea. A lost soul would instantly absorb, but that won’t happen as fast for the living. So you’d be okay for a bit.”

I swallow and tuck the notebook safely away. “Okay, so to play it safe for once in my life, let’s avoid the spiders at all costs and stay together.”

“And if that fails, then your soul joining the Tapestry is a great backup plan. Way better than anything I could come up with.”

“I’d be dead!” I cuff her ear.

Her ear flicks and smacks me in the face. “And safe in the afterlife! It’s better than I ever thought you’d receive. I was sure you’d end up a doomed lost soul.”

Her pitch and prance are way too chipper for me. I hiss angrily while folding my arms over my chest, “Glad my death is a win for you.”

“Me too.” I scoff, and Jinx begins to run again. “Now keep your eyes open. A little farther and you’ll start to see the Tapestry’s glow.”

CHAPTER 24

THE ARCHWEAVER ESTATE, ASTRUM FOREST

VALEN

The Archweaver estate is in chaos. Glass shatters with a series of explosions, the iron warping from the heat and glowing in the darkness.

Emilia whispers from our hiding place in the gardens, “Your magician lover is efficient.”

I smile, my heart thumping with a mixture of pride and fear. “He is a menace.”

Another set of explosions on an upper level takes out a wall. Rock rains down, and I raise a brow. Lucas definitely knows how to make an entrance. Emilia nods towards the open garden doors, the weavers who were guarding it long gone. “We can get in through there. You go find your magician lover, and I’ll find you later.”

I shoot her a sharp glare. “Emilia.”

“Don’t you want to find the statue?” She smirks darkly.

“What do you have planned?”

“Oh, nothing. Just a little something, something and revenge.”

“Against who, exactly?”

She doesn’t answer. She dodges out from behind the bush we’re hiding behind and runs for the door. Is this what it was like for Lucas to see me run through the statues? Because I loathe it. I’ll need to add it to my long list of apologies.

I scan the estate, mapping the series of explosions. They are going to the east and up. If my guess is correct, Lucas would be herding them farther away from where he’s going. Which means the west wing will be unoccupied, and my best bet at finding him.

I take off after Emilia, jumping up the steps leading to the open door. She is nowhere to be found. Probably off doing whatever mysterious shit she’s into nowadays. We used to share everything, and I miss it keenly. Hopefully, time will fix that rift the last seven years have caused. For now, I need to focus.

Avoiding the weavers in the estate is easy enough. They’re trying to regroup and hunt down Lucas. I hide behind corners, waiting for them to pass, before slipping into one of the ceremonial rooms which holds the red velvet robes and the silver masks the Order don when wielding powerful magic. Many are missing, confirming my suspicions that the weavers hunting Lucas are wearing them, like when Atticus’ trap was snapping around Astoria. I quickly pull on a robe and slide a viper mask over my face. Any elite weavers who take the time to peer into my soul will know I’m of Preservation instantly, but hopefully they’ll be too busy running after Lucas’ detonations to notice.

Another explosion has me stumbling, but I manage to move quickly and avoid most weavers where I can.

The west wing is nearly empty. There’s an enclosed courtyard here, with a glass dome much like the atrium to my family’s museum where the sphinx used to rest. Humidity is thick to keep the tropical plants that a previous Archweaver favored healthy and abundant. Large-leafed palms obscure every corner, flowering vines crawling up towering trees. Agitated colorful birds squawk and rustle along the branches. It makes it hard to hear any approaching sounds.

Statues fill this tropical rainforest. Extinct, ancient beasts snarl, and weavers with their long fingers in intricate signs peer at me. My skin prickles and sweat drips from my brow. The magic that keeps the cloak and mask at a comfortable temperature falters under the magically generated humidity. The temptation to strengthen the runes along the mask is strong, but it’ll risk drawing attention to me.