The corridor stretched ahead of him, marble floors gleaming under the light of chandeliers. Vencian's footsteps echoed in the quiet, each one marking the distance between him and Rulen's final warning.
Giving those ritual materials to you was one thing.
The words circled through his mind, refusing to settle.
Rulen had given him the ritual materials. Given them.
Why?
The second question followed immediately on the heels of the first: how much did Rulen know?
Did he understand what those materials were truly meant for? Did he realize they were for some different purpose perhaps to bring someone from another world entirely, replace one soul with another? Or had he simply provided them thinking they were for some other purpose—research, perhaps, or curiosity?
Vencian's fingers curled into fists at his sides.
And the final question, the one that made his chest tighten: did Rulen know what had actually happened?
