Gabriella Poole - Divided Souls (Darke Academy)

and yellowed by age. As her eyes skimmed the script, her heart plummeted to the furthest depths of her chest.

‘Oh, Ranjit. Oh, my God,’ she whispered.

These artefacts must never be actively sought by

the Few, lest the worst of their nature

be brought out in the finder. The first

of our kind to once again lay hands upon

these items will face a devastating result .

‘These artefacts must never be actively sought …’ Cassie couldn’t help but read the words aloud, her eyes wide with horror.

The worst of their nature?

She felt her fingers tense with rage and fear as she started at the details. Of course, it would have to be the first contact; after that it

would be rendered safe once more. After all, the Elders would probably want the artefacts back, wouldn’t they? They’d have to be able to

touch the artefacts themselves, once the poor unsuspecting thief had lost their marbles …

Cassie flattened her hands against the page, almost trying not to see the spidery script. There was no way round it. The first person to

touch Pendant, Knife or Urn would change – and it definitely didn’t sound like it was for the better.

It explained everything, of course. Keiko had been no Pollyanna, but the Knife had given her a new, psychopathic hatred and violence.

She’d been out of her mind when she tried to kill Cassie. That somehow made her feel even worse about the Japanese girl’s terrible death.

Hurriedly Cassie turned more pages, handling the heavy vellum with great care. She couldn’t help feeling respectful of the manuscript’s

age, even as she wanted to rip the damned thing into tiny pieces.

And there it was: the Urn’s location. Cassie couldn’t help gulping hard and shoving the chair back, as if she could distance herself

physically from what this meant.

The Yucatán …

Patrick’s words from all those weeks ago came back to her with a horrible jolt.

Erik was killed … in a landslide … I always wondered what they were looking for, out there in the Yucatán.

But Sir Alric never said …

Of course he didn’t: it was a secret project. A top-secret, mysterious, Few-related project, entrusted only to the reliable, honourable Erik

Ragnarsson. Oh Lord. They must have found the Urn. And something terrible had happened to Erik. But then it was entirely possible that

Erik had been first to touch their find. Maybe Erik had been cursed in Sir Alric’s place.

Cassie didn’t want to think about it. What had happened to him? Only he and Sir Alric had been there. Erik was Few. He’d touched the

Urn, been struck with the curse … and then what? A landslide, and Erik dead, or so Sir Alric said. What a convenient landslide. Oh God …

No matter how much Cassie tried not to think about it, she knew one devastating fact was almost certain. That Ranjit had no idea of this.

No idea about what might happen if he was the first to touch an artefact.

He couldn’t have if he hadn’t seen the other half of this manuscript. Ranjit had more than likely gone blindly in search of the Pendant,

thinking it could save his relationship with her, without a clue about the consequences. Or at least not the consequences for himself …

Then Cassie remembered the missing Urn, its sudden disappearance from the very office in which she now sat. There was every chance

it was Ranjit who had taken it, but Erik’s sacrifice must mean that the Urn was safe to touch. The Pendant, however, was a different story.

And now Ranjit had disappeared.

Could Sir Alric have been using him too? But what about the others – Mikhail, Yusuf? What was he covering up? Was his mention of

Jake just a diversion, a way to throw her off the scent?

Cassie’s breath became ragged as the horror of all the possibilities began to assail her mind. She had to get out of there, and fast.

Covering her tracks as best she could, Cassie replaced the manuscript, spun the dial to lock the vault and replaced the books on the shelf,

her head spinning.

We must take great care, my dear … please, please be reasonable … there may be nothing we can do … we shouldn’t continue to pursue

this … PLEASE!

Maybe there is nothing to be done, Cassie thought. But if there was any chance that Ranjit was still alive, she had to find him. She had to

try and help him.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

As she quietly pulled the office door shut, Cassie was acutely aware that she really did not want to run into anyone on her way back to her

room: there was potential for far too many awkward questions, and not many answers she could give. Edging into the next corridor she

took a breath, listening for any footstep, preparing to make a dash for it.

Then her ringtone shrieked, slicing through the silence.