Chapter 27 #2
Evren cocked his head, eyes glinting as if I’d just presented him with a new and intriguing game.
A slow, poisonous smile spread over his cruel mouth as he began to laugh.
“Fuck me,” he chortled. “Well, you’ve got me there, girl.
That does sound like fun.” His face was full of anticipation, like that of a lover before the act of pleasure, only a thousand times more malicious.
I swallowed back bile.
What the fuck had I just done?
Wordlessly, he withdrew a knife from beneath the folds of his black coat, and my eyes automatically darted to the silver blade, gleaming softly in the darkness.
Evren tugged back the sleeve of his shirt and glanced at me expectantly.
I took a steadying breath and reluctantly proffered him my hand.
His fingers closed around my left wrist in a vice-like grip, turning it so that the palm faced upward.
“In exchange for your life, do you, Arden Farrow, willingly renounce and relinquish all protections of your blood that resist softmagic, and specifically, Bludkravk glamours?” His fingers tightened on my wrist as he added, “Even if the result of this bargain is that you shall suffer untold agonies?”
Dread curled low in my stomach. I had to trust that everything Casimir told me about true names was accurate.
A name is tied to a person, body and soul… Your name will give him power over you.
Unless I spoke my true name, this bargain would be non-binding. He would rage and vow vengeance once he discovered my duplicity, but it was worth the risk. This lie would save my life.
I forced myself to answer, “Yes.”
“But what of the Book of Erebos?” his eyes narrowed, watching me closely. “Will you vow to do all in your power to ensure the Darkseer does not destroy the Book?”
I couldn’t see a way out of it, so I gritted out, “Yes.”
“And one last thing,” he said, his tongue flicking out to wet his bottom lip. “You will grant me one favor. Any favor, at a time and place of my choosing.”
I stared into his predatory green eyes, the bloodlust in them unmistakable. This was a step too far. What if he called in this favor the night of the blood ritual? It could jeopardize everything. But what choice did I have? I could accept this twisted bargain or face my death.
I shut my eyes. “I will.”
“Then, I, Evren Dronov, vow to uphold my end of the bargain,” he declared. “And now, we seal this oath in blood.”
I stilled.
He gave a dark, humorless chuckle. “Did you think we were going to use softmagic?” he taunted. “I think not. I find bloodbargains to be much more enduring.”
“Wait—!” was all I had time to say before he drew the blade across his forearm, allowing beads of blood to trickle to the floor.
Without warning, he tugged on my wrist, yanking me closer, slashing a shallow line in the flesh of my wrist. I gasped at the sharp pain, hardly hearing the strange slew of words that Evren muttered under his breath in a language I didn’t recognize.
My blood dripped to the floor, mingling with his.
I tasted a glimmer of sulfurous magic in the air, like a match striking against a rough surface, and then it was gone.
A searing, burning sensation shot up my wrist, different from the stinging cut made by his knife.
A whimper of pain and surprise escaped my lips, and I stared down in horror as a searing red symbol materialized on my forearm.
X
An identical symbol appeared on Evren’s arm in exactly the same place.
Once the words had been spoken and both runes seared into skin, my blood began to clot, though the flesh still looked raw and angry.
I fought back tears, but fuck, if it didn’t burn!
Beneath the stabbing pain loomed a new and dawning sense of horror.
How could the rune have appeared without Evren’s invoking my true name?
I hadn’t expected the magic to bind us without it, but clearly, I’d been wrong.
An icy coil of doubt wrapped itself around my abdomen. I was going to be sick.
Evren waited for me to heave the meager contents of my stomach onto the tiles before he forced me to look up at him, eyes shining with a vicious sort of anticipation that made my blood chill.
“Now,” he breathed. “Let’s see if our bargain is truly sealed.”
He seized my wrist, nails biting into flesh.
I was shocked when my mouth abruptly flooded with cold iron, the flavor of old blood. I nearly gagged at the taste. The metallic tang of Evren’s glamour coated my tongue, spreading over my body like a current, but the pain I’d anticipated did not come.
His knuckles were bloodless as he held my wrist.
I acted instinctively, falling to the floor and thrashing about, emitting groans of pain, crying out as if I was being tortured. Internally, I was gleeful with triumph. Evren’s glamour hadn’t worked.
I rolled my eyes back into my skull, really selling it.
I figured he’d make this little test as painful as possible, even if it got us caught—he was so eager to repair his bruised ego.
To remind himself that he was powerful, and I was nothing.
A heartbeat later, he released my wrist, and I flopped against the floor, groaning feebly.
“Marvelous,” he murmured. He was breathing heavily, staring down at me with a satisfied grin, his eyes almost black with power.
It wasn’t difficult to arrange my features into an expression full of loathing as I gazed back up at him.
“Did you have to make it hurt so much?” I croaked, knowing my weakness would only increase his enjoyment.
Albeit necessary, it was still nauseating to debase myself like this; to play the role of the Bloodweaver’s new plaything.
“Lucky for you,” he purred, “I don’t usually break my toys... at least, not until I grow tired of them.”
He extended a hand to me and laughed when I hesitated to accept it.
“Don’t tell your Darkseer about our little agreement,” he added, a wistful smile spreading across his lips. “I want to witness the look on his face when he sees how I make his mortal girl scream.”
Numbly, I nodded, feeling squeamish. I tried my best to keep my expression vacant, concealing the warring shock and relief that surged through me. He hadn’t been able to hurt me, even after I swore away my protections. He couldn’t touch me.
Evren muttered something under his breath, and I watched in amazement as our blood vanished from the tiles. An enchantment? He turned to leave, and I wondered if he might renege on our bargain.
“Wait! I called after him. “Our bargain means I have immunity, right? You… can’t kill me?” He was compelled by blood to honor his word. Wasn’t he?
Evren shot me a derisive glance over his shoulder. “I am bound by the terms of our bargain, same as you. So no, girl, I won’t kill you,” he answered with a devilish grin. “Not yet, anyway.”
Hope drained from my body, leaving ice in its wake.
In spite of all my lies and scheming, Evren had tricked me.
He would be entirely at his liberty to murder me after the bargain.
But—no, hadn’t Casimir said that bloodbargains were permanent?
That they never expired? Evren was bound by magic not to kill me forever…
right? By now, the adrenaline that had kept me alert had faded to a dull echo, and emotion threatened to overwhelm me.
Biting back a sob, I ran into the nearest stall of the bathroom, slamming the door and locking it behind me.
I leaned against the doorframe and tried to calm my fluttering pulse.
If there were a hierarchy to oaths and bargains, it would follow that the bloodbargain between Evren and me should be more potent than a veilbound one.
However, because I’d neglected to invoke my true name, it followed that the magic could not compel me to obey Evren’s terms. At least, that was my working theory.
So, the protections of my blood remained.
Even with this rune on my arm, Evren’s glamours couldn’t touch me.
Perhaps our agreement was only truly binding on Evren’s part.
Did it even matter, as long as he believed he was magic-bound not to kill me?
I was safe for as long as I could keep up the ruse.
Whenever Evren seized my arm, whenever I tasted the bitter iron of his glamour on my tongue, I would be ready.
I could pretend to writhe in agony, giving him the show he so desired.
But what about Casimir? Evren would certainly use me as a toy to torment him. Should I warn Casimir so that he wouldn’t be caught off-guard when Evren decided to dangle me like a broken doll for his amusement? Could Casimir give an authentic performance of rage while knowing the truth?
My eyelids fluttered shut and I sank to the floor, my bare feet cold on the icy blue tiles.
The sharp smell of disinfectant burned my nostrils, and oh, I so badly wanted to rest a while longer.
If I told Casimir that the bargain with Evren hadn’t worked, I’d also have to tell him why I’d made the bargain in the first place, which would invariably send Casimir into a rage.
He might even decide to hunt down Evren, as he’d done with Monty.
What if Evren and Casimir fought? What if Casimir were killed?
I chewed my lips, considering the alternative.
It would be difficult, but not impossible, to conceal the brand on my wrist for a few days.
In any case, it was definitely preferable to provoking a face-off between two angry Daemons.
Why was lying always the most convenient option? I sighed as I resigned myself to another exhausting day, praying I wouldn’t run into Evren until after the full moon.
The next morning, Casimir appeared at my bedside bearing a much-needed change of clothes and a note from Gwen. I fixed my face into what I hoped was a neutral expression, and not that of a traitor who’d made a bargain with a Bloodweaver behind his back.
I grimaced when I read Gwen’s note, which not-so-subtly reminded me about my “obligation” regarding the Jewel Ball.
“Now he’s fetching your clothes and bringing you homework? You’ve been holding out on me, Arden. Don’t forget your promise! The Jewel Ball awaits!”
My face flushed with heat as I quickly folded up the note and stuffed it beneath my pillow.
I still hadn’t asked Casimir to go to the ball with me, but the closer we came to the full moon, the more frivolous the entire ordeal seemed.
How could I ask him to go to some silly party with me on the same night as the blood ritual?
It was absurd. What if he said no? Or, an even more terrifying prospect—what if he said yes?
Imagining his polite refusal—or worse, his pity—was more than I could bear.
Casimir’s icy gaze swept over me, lingering on the purple half-moons of fatigue beneath my eyes. Appraising. “What happened last night? You seem… off.”
“You do realize I’m being treated for a concussion, right?” I replied acidly.
His eyes narrowed. “What’s that on your neck?”
I clasped a hand over the bruises left by Evren’s brutal fingers. “Nothing! Just Dr. Hobart’s invasive probing again,” I lied. “I think her perfume gave me a rash...”
He frowned as though he didn’t believe a word of it, but held back his suspicions for the moment. “How bad is it?”
I knew he was referring to my concussion. “Dr. Hobart ran some tests. She says I don’t use that half of my brain anyway,” I quipped, using his momentary distraction to ensure my sleeve fully covered the fresh brand on my wrist.
He rolled his eyes. “Everything’s a joke to you, Farrow.”
“Listen, I need to show you something…” I began.
I watched Casimir’s expression change from irritation to growing interest as he read the sprite’s riddle.
Not wanting him to believe I was truly unwitting, I added, “Obviously, the Minotaur clue means that this object is hidden in the Labyrinth. But I have no idea where.”
In answer, Casimir pointed to the first two lines of the riddle.
Silver-tongued and moonless
Encrypted in shadow and myth
“I think these two verses contain a double meaning,” he said.
When I shot him a puzzled glance, he explained, “The Book isn’t just referring to the Minotaur beast dwelling in some shadowed, moonless labyrinth.
I think you’re right about the Greek Mythology reference, but the use of the word encrypted is interesting.
I think it’s a hint.” He underlined the middle of the word.
Encrypted
I stared at him blankly.
“It’s either an encrypted object, or it’s hidden inside a crypt,” he explained. “Or perhaps both.”
My eyes widened. “A crypt? Like a tomb? But where—” I began, but Casimir interrupted.
“There’s a crypt in the basement of the Labyrinth,” he said in an undertone. “It’s not so much a tomb as an underground chamber for ancient relics and old archives. Post-graduate students use it for research and storage. It’s not a place undergrads typically have access to.”
“But how will we get in if students don’t usually have access?”
Casimir smiled crookedly, eyes glinting.
Oh no. I knew that look.
“Don’t worry about that, Farrow. The professors each have a set of keys.”
I shot him a bewildered look before I understood what he was suggesting. And then, my jaw fell open. “You want to steal the keys to the crypt? You can’t be serious!”
Casimir rolled his eyes. “You’ve watched me glamour an elderly librarian, steal a precious necklace, and break Monty Prescott’s finger—”
“Hand,” I corrected.
“—But no, it’s the idea of stealing a set of keys that really offends you…” He shook his head in mock disappointment. “I’ll meet you outside the library at midnight. Unless you’d rather steal the keys yourself?” he offered.
I arched a brow. “I guess you really meant it when you said you hadn’t corrupted me thoroughly enough.”
His answering grin was wicked. “I make good on all of my promises, Farrow. You’ll learn that soon enough.”