Chapter 14 #2
I huffed a laugh. “Is this your way of trying to justify keeping things from me?”
“Not at all. I’ll tell you what you want to know… if it’ll make you feel better.”
I did my best to conceal my surprise at his response. “Then answer my earlier question,” I demanded. “What does it mean that you’re a Darkseer?”
“I thought you’d have figured that out by now,” he replied, once again avoiding a direct response.
“A Darkseer can’t be any worse than a Siphoner,” I reasoned, recalling the words Devereaux had spoken into my mind. “You don’t possess Devereaux’s proclivities for compulsion.” I swallowed. “Or at least, you don’t seem to.”
“What you experienced—what I did to you in the Grotto…” He hesitated.
“You already know how my glamour allows me to access people’s minds and sift through their memories,” he said, swallowing hard.
“In addition, I can also alter people’s perceptions and void true sight, under the right circumstances.
Some Daemons refer to Darkseers as Lama?e Myslen.
It roughly translates to ‘Mindbreakers.’”
I stared at him. “So, not only can you invade people’s memories, but now you’re telling me you can also manipulate them?” I said, not bothering to hide my disgust.
He nodded in answer and avoided meeting my gaze, but I wasn’t finished probing him.
“What does it mean you can void true sight?”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “It means that, in addition to warping memories and manipulating emotions, I can also implant false visions. All of my powers require physical contact, of course. Without it, I can’t glamour a puppy.”
I mulled over this new information. The Book of Erebos had claimed that Casimir was a Darkseer.
The only Darkseer. Did that mean he was the only Daemon with the ability to penetrate minds and memories?
But the word penetrate sounded misleadingly gentle compared to the way he’d blazed past my mental barriers.
I thought back to our training session in the Grotto, how, with ease and imperceptible grace, he’d altered my perceptions and blacked out reality, dredging up whatever memories best suited him.
Even if his powers weren’t at their full potency, they were beyond harrowing.
My shudder didn’t escape Casimir’s notice.
He contemplated my expression. “Does the way my glamour manifests bother you?”
I huffed a laugh, releasing some of the tension in my chest. “Does it bother you that I can taste lies? Neither of us can help what we are. We’re both just—”
“Special?” he offered.
“Different,” I corrected. Another question rose to my lips, and I suddenly felt nervous.
“I’ve been wondering, though, what do you think it means that I have the ability to taste lies?
” I knew that, despite my abilities, I was undeniably and unequivocally human.
Mortal. The clouds overhead seemed to darken, the black consuming the blue, and an icy sensation that had nothing to do with the bitter winter air slithered over my skin.
“I honestly don’t know,” he replied, fixing me with a look that raised the hairs on the back of my neck.
He fidgeted with his lighter in one hand, the flame flickering briefly before it was snuffed out by the cold.
Again, I took in the dark circles under his eyes, the anxious, restless energy in his body, like a coil wound far too tightly.
My heart thumped unevenly as I gathered the courage to speak aloud what had been bothering me for too long. “I think something else’s got you worried. Something besides the ritual, I mean. Tell me, what’s got you so scared you’re not even sleeping?”
I allowed the accusation to hang in the air between us, growing heavier by the second. I leaned in closer, forcing his eyes to meet mine.
“Want to know what I think?” I whispered, trying to imitate one of his piercing looks, like I was penetrating right through to the soul beneath. “I think there’s another reason you don’t want me involved. One you’re not telling me.”
You are the last person who should go anywhere near the Bloodthorn Order.
At once, anger sparked in his amber eyes, but I refused to back down. Admittedly, I was bluffing my confidence with this half-formed theory. But both he and August had said enough to kindle my suspicions. I clenched against the sudden urge to inhale his heady scent.
Scarcely breathing, I leaned in as close as I dared. “I think you’re a liar, and a shitty one at that.”
“That’s enough, Farrow,” he hissed.
I held his gaze for as long as I could. He broke away first, laughing softly.
“I’ve never met anyone so determined. Stubborn would be a better word for it.”
Feeling lightheaded from the lack of oxygen, I took a step back and took a deep breath before I spoke again.
“Fine, you don’t want to tell me whatever it is you’re hiding. I’ll find out soon enough,” I assured him. “Can you at least tell me if you have any news regarding the ritual?”
“If you haven’t noticed, Farrow,” he said, his voice laced with sarcasm, “I’ve been a bit busy trying to gather information to save your pathetic ex-boyfriend.”
“Don’t do that,” I snapped.
“Do what?”
“Pretend to be all callous. You wouldn’t be helping me if you didn’t care.”
Casimir’s gaze sliced through me. We were bordering on dangerous territory now, but the words were slipping out faster than I could hold them back.
“You don’t want August to die, admit it.”
A harsh, barking laugh escaped his throat. “You cannot be serious, Farrow.”
“If you don’t care, then why did you make the bargain with me in the first place?”
“This conversation is over,” he growled, his tone heavy with finality.
By now, the dark storm clouds were weaving their vaporous shroud across the sky, allowing only an occasional streak of light to seep through.
I shivered against the frigid air that beckoned to us from beyond the trees.
Still, the winter chill was nothing compared to the way Casimir was looking at me now, as if his gaze might freeze my very bones.
“Look,” he cut in, “if we’re going to help anyone, we have to find the new Keeper.
Otherwise, none of this will matter. We won’t stand a chance.
” He fought to restrain his expression, but his eyes held a storm.
“And yes, alright. I don’t want Sinclair dead, if only because it would make working together that much more difficult.
I will remind you that our bargain stipulates you must complete your side of the agreement, regardless of the outcome where Sinclair is concerned.
” He crossed his arms over his chest and arched a defiant brow, as if daring me to argue.
My lips parted in surprise. He’d actually admitted he didn’t want August to be killed.
“Happy?” he demanded, advancing on me. His face was swathed in shadow, making his irises appear darker, swallowing the light.
“I—Yes,” I said, still trapped in his gaze.
The way he was looking at me…as if he were weighing his options, silently debating whether things might not be simpler if he just got rid of me.
My gaze darted around the veranda. The hairs on the back of my neck prickled when I found that we were utterly alone.
My tongue felt dry against my teeth, and then the question slipped past my lips before I could stop it.
“Do veilbound bargains end if one party dies?”
Casimir’s answering smirk was laced with dark amusement. “Yes, but not if one of the involved parties is at fault for said death.”
“Oh,” I spluttered. “Well, um—good.”
His hand darted out, gripping my chin between ice-cold fingers. He angled my face toward him and forced my eyes to meet his. “Don’t believe for a moment that something as insignificant as a magical law would stop me if I wanted to end your life,” he said, the words coming out in a low rasp.
His threat had my heart stuttering in my chest. I thought back to one of our earlier conversations.
If you wanted to hurt me, you would’ve already done so. You’ve had plenty of chances, I’d said.
At the time, Casimir had conceded the point. But now? Did he want to harm me? Or was this merely another test?
“Who’s to say he won’t destroy you in the process?”
Was the Darkseer bent on my destruction?
With his fingers still locked around my jaw, I glared up into his face. “And do you want to end my life, Casimir?” I asked.
For the briefest of seconds, he hesitated, his fingers gripping harder than ever—and then, like a gust of wind blown through a corridor, he released me and stepped back.
I drank in the air as though deprived of oxygen, and all the while, he smirked down at me as if it had all been a joke.
But the proof of my fear still thrummed against my ribcage.
“No, Farrow,” he replied, still smiling in a way that made my heart clench. “I’ve decided you’re of little use to anyone dead.”
After Gwen left for breakfast the next morning, I begrudgingly decided to take another crack at getting some answers from the Book of Erebos. I plunked it onto my desk with such force that it rattled the planters and glass orbs hanging along the opposite wall.
Why couldn’t Casimir have given me a magical text with less heft to it?
I swore, gingerly flexing the tendons in my wrist. I reached out to run a hand over the worn brown leather that stretched across the cover. The edges were encased by thick gold bindings. Again, that creeping, uneasy feeling settled over me as soon as my skin made contact with the Book.
“Alright, you can do this,” I muttered to myself. I flung open the cover with all the anticipation of someone waiting for a grenade to explode.
Nothing happened.
Tentatively, I spoke into the silence. “Hello?”
No response. I huffed in frustration. But Casimir had rebuked me about my politeness. So, fine. I’d be polite. I’d be a gods’ damned princess.
“I’d like to ask you some more questions, if you don’t mind,” I said, feeling stupid.
Still no reply.
“I’m sorry about last time. Can we please talk?”
Silence.
“Please?”
…