Chapter 135

Chapter One Hundred Thirty-Five

Even before entering the chamber, Connor had a sense of what it looked like: long and narrow, with three niches to his right and left. Each niche contained a circle of power, and inside of that a stone dais.

A reliquary, he realized.

That was where the artifacts had been stored.

It really was like Elise had said: magic, or at least the appearance of it. The technology involved was so advanced, the craftsmanship and embrace of art so complete that it all felt like nature instead of science.

Even the stone daises were natural, not formed from the white composite used to build the prison and the ruins above.

And inside of this holy area—this prison control center—he felt Selen.

She was the fetid sulfur and rot of this imprisoned life killer. More: She was the suffocating pressure of terrible power coiled and hidden, waiting for the best chance to strike.

This alien presence was there: a heartbeat that drowned out his own.