17. Chapter 17 #2
The priestess’s head snaps between us and the table.
“Well… have a seat,” she says in a tone that makes her request sound non-negotiable.
“We mustn’t let the cook’s hard work go to waste.
” She pauses to survey each one of us thoughtfully as we take our respective seats, her turquoise sleeve slipping up her forearm as she reaches for a pastry.
I spot the spellmark of a little golden needle etched onto her wrist. The symbol of a Vitaliskeeper, a manager of bloodmagic and all things currency.
“I heard that the four of you had quite the difficult afternoon in the courtyard,” she says.
The others nod. I nod along too, my mind drifting off to that time in history class when I learned that priestesses earn their diadems by devoting their entire lives to the gods.
Their sole job is to protect and manage the Vitalis Repositories, if only to ensure the gods always have a backup supply of bloodmagic in the event there is war.
For that reason, priestesses are akin to military generals in a way, possibly even more important.
Which is why killing one is the highest offense of them all.
Master Grimwell used to say that to kill a priestess in cold blood is to summon the death of your entire bloodline… and the deaths of all your friends.
I gulp.
“Please take some,” the priestess insists as she reaches for a cookie and plops it onto my plate.
I stare at the baked good. It smells delightful, but I wonder whether it’s laced with poison.
The priestess seems to read my mind, because she takes a mouth-watering bite of said cookie, and then proceeds to pat her lips with a napkin.
My stomach grumbles as I watch her eat the rest.
“You do realize that we’re capable of eating without supervision?
” Maxine says, setting the rest of her unfinished bracelets down on the table with a soft clink.
“Or is the queen worried we might choke?
" she continues, flicking a glance my way. “I suppose that makes sense, considering how Shadow here chokes a lot… just not on what you’d expect.”
Oh, that is just hilarious.
My death glare only makes Maxine cough with laughter. Lily snorts from beside her, and Bella gives me a weary look.
“Of course you’re capable of eating without supervision,” says the priestess.
“But I must be honest with you.” She sighs tediously, then folds up her napkin and sets it on her lap.
“I didn’t just come here to feed you. I also came here to help you with your magic, so that you may properly protect yourselves against the Dragonbloods who seek your heads.
” She slides a glass of juice in my direction.
I gulp it down, only because I don’t know what else to do with my shaking hands.
She’s here to help with our magic? This is bad, very bad.
“Hmmm,” Maxine reflects as she twirls her bracelets around on the glass table. “Wasn’t that also what Master Flint was hired to do? Help us defend ourselves against the dragons? It worked out so well for him in the end, didn’t it?”
“I am not here to poison you without the queen’s permission,” Priestess Seraphina corrects, enunciating every syllable like Maxine’s question got underneath her skin. “How terrifying for you all, really. I heard Shadow here had quite the tumble.” She eyes me.
“I’m fine,” I assert.
“Wonderful.” She beams, clapping her hands together abruptly. “Then let’s get to work on your magic, shall we? Who would like to go first? Lily?”
“I don’t need help,” Lily blurts.
“Is that so?” Priestess Seraphina coos, her returning smile fabricated in deception. “Then perhaps you’ll try your magic on me to prove that little theory?”
Lily’s hardened expression softens into puddle-like consistency. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to harm a priestess.”
“Do not fret,” the priestess says, wiping the crumbs off her turquoise robes before extending a hand toward Lily. “Take my hands. Don’t hold back.”
Lily wavers for a moment. “But what if…”
“Do it,” the priestess says darkly. Begrudgingly, Lily clutches the priestess’s hands.
She exhales a quivering breath, closes her eyes, and then summons up a little thread of golden magic from her fingertips, which weaves around her spellmark like a firefly in heat before disintegrating.
For a moment, nothing happens. And then finally, Priestess Seraphina’s nose wrinkles.
Her lips twist. She sticks out her tongue and gags.
“Ugh! What is that god-awful smell?” she asks, her eyes flying open in search of the source of the putrid aroma, only to find nothing.
She points at Lily, looking impressed. “Ah. You made me feel disgusted. Very good! Now… prompt that same feeling of disgust again, only this time, with everyone at once.”
“The most I’ve ever done is three,” Lily says, her voice cracking. “And that took every ounce of bloodmagic I had. I almost fainted.”
The priestess gives her a pointed look. Then she dips her fingers into her velvet bag and reveals a Needle from its depths.
The four of us clench at the sight of the demonic object, which is only known for one thing—sucking the life source out of its victim.
“Do not fear,” she says to us all, her voice light and airy.
“I did not bring this Needle here to siphon bloodmagic from you. I brought it here for another reason entirely, one that I’m certain you’ll all be very pleased with. ”
With her opposite hand, she retrieves a little golden vial from her pouch, which she dangles out before us.
“Bloodmagic is the life source of the realm,” she goes on to explain.
“It can be given, and it can be taken away. This little vial happens to be your blood, Lily.” She draws up the golden liquid carefully with the Needle before adding, “You donated it on your sixteenth birthday, per tradition, and it has been in the Vitalis Repository ever since. I’m sure that you recall this fond memory? ”
Lily nods. So do Bella and Maxine, who I assume donated bloodmagic for the first time on their sixteenth birthday as well. Not that I would know. Grandmaster Grimwell made it very clear that my silver blood was cursed.
“I’d like for you to take it back now,” Priestess Seraphina says.
Lily clears her throat awkwardly. “I… I was always told that injecting bloodmagic back into the veins would have undesired consequences…”
“Yeah, like self-imploding,” Maxine chimes in, clasping her hands together and leaning forward, almost like she’s waiting for something terrible to happen.
The priestess throws her head back and screeches with laughter.
“While it’s true that the body regenerates bloodmagic regularly, it’s also true that injecting additional bloodmagic will only serve to enhance your powers and make you stronger.
You will not self-implode, my dear. I promise.
Not while I’m here. Now, give me your arm. ”
Lily does as she asks, although hesitantly.
The priestess locates Lily’s spellmark and then injects the glittering golden bloodmagic straight into her veins.
Lily grimaces, but only for a moment. Then she clenches her fist, shakes out her arm, and sighs with relief.
“That wasn’t too bad,” she admits. “I’m still in one piece. ”
“Precisely,” the priestess agrees, her teal eyes widening. “Now give your magic another go. Bask in all that newfound bloodmagic whilst forcing us all to feel various levels of disgust at once.”
Seemingly unsure of herself, Lily closes her eyes and holds out her hands, coaxing a ripple of glittering bloodmagic from her fingertips.
She shoots that magic straight at the ceiling, which explodes in firework formation over our heads, its remnants cascading down over us like golden rain.
Maxine is the first to stick out her tongue and gag, like she’s just smelled a wet fart.
Bella tucks her nose into her shirt, as if warring with a mixture of emotions.
Priestess Seraphina looks like she’s fighting back the urge to vomit all over the floor.
And then it hits me like an exploding star.
Strangely enough, I’m not ambushed by the scent of rotten decay like I’d expected.
Nor am I overwhelmed by the sensation of troll breath.
I’m bombarded by the smell of a first rain after war as a bloody battlefield is washed away.
The scent of a mother bleeding out on the throne room floor, a tear streaking down her face.
I can practically taste the sharp metal bars of a prison cell after a father is dragged to his death.
It all hits me like a hurricane, forcing my lungs to shrivel up. Pain. I feel pain.
“Make it stop,” I wheeze. “Please.”
“Right. That’s quite enough, Lily,” the priestess says between terse breaths, clearly still reeling from whatever emotion Lily had forced her to endure as well. Lily folds her hands neatly into her lap and shrugs. Immediately, her glittering golden bloodmagic dies out.
“Bella, let’s have you go next,” the priestess croaks.
Bella stills, as if confused. “But I’m a Memorykeeper,” she says. “My magic doesn’t affect anyone else. At least, not like that.”
“Oh, that is where you are wrong, Bella,” the priestess says, setting down the Needle and leaning forward, her eyes widening. “Grab Shadow’s hands and see for yourself.”
“Do I have to?” Bella slumps into herself.
“Yes,” the priestess says. “You must be aware of your strength if you are to stand a chance in battle. Because not only is your memory pliable, but so too are the memories of those around you. Their memories are simply deeper, concealed further beneath the surface, waiting to be unveiled. Now, draw up a memory from your friend and try it for yourself.”
“Fine.” Bella huffs. Then she turns to me and holds out her hands. “Shay?”
“Forewarning,” I grimace, “the only memories that you’re going to find are from the orphanage I grew up in, and maybe some visions of Eric in compromising positions.”