31. Sanguine
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Sanguine
Ieyed the ceiling, listening to Cassiel’s breathing as he slumbered.
The settee was rather hard, so it was perfect to lie against during my translation bouts.
It allowed me not to fall asleep. A yawn crawled free, and I stretched out.
The passage I had read within the Alpha section wove through my mind.
I could not believe it, but staring at it only caused the words to turn in circles.
The ache at my temple pulsed, but I couldn’t stop reading.
I was close to something of enormous importance. I could feel it.
I rolled my neck and leaned forward to the pages spread before me. My journal and the grimoire lay open side by side. I hoisted the grimoire onto my lap. The passage blurred, but I forced myself to continue.
The Sanguine Stone remembers what the blood forgets.
Two truths the stone holds.
To open the realms. To know the power of old.
Where realm is sundered from realm, the stone will open.
If the eye rings scarlet, the old power dwells within.
What the stone cannot open cannot be crossed. Whom the stone does not crown was never meant to wake.
Born where the blood of the woken met the waters of making, the stone carries both gifts of that dying.
The passage that caught my focus was the crossing of different realms. Liadan was the only person I knew who had done this.
When we parted, he had left me to retrieve something.
Could it have been this stone? I closed the grimoire and carefully set it under the journal to arrange them into the satchel.
With Cassiel here, there was not much of a risk of it falling into the wrong hands.
I left it on the settee. None would enter where Cassiel slept.
I stood, stretching out my hunched-over spine.
Cassiel remained deep in slumber. Quietly, I slid on my slippers and tiptoed from the chamber.
I left the door the slightest bit ajar and shuffled out over the rug stretching down the hall.
I went in the direction I had come before, crossing the foyer, and walked through the entrance where the girl had shattered the porcelain.
There was no sign of any shards. The hall led down an identical one.
Light from a gas lamp led me to a door. Voices came from inside.
“I do not trust that monster,” Morak’s clear voice echoed.
“We haven’t a choice,” Duke Deveaux said.
“We do—”
“Sycarians respect his leadership. He makes them feel safe. You are talking about removing the monarchy.”
“It has not been a monarchy under who we believe. The king is a figurehead.”
“Exactly,” I said, nudging inside.
All those inside whirled. Morak grabbed his pommel, and Liadan stepped forward. But my attention caught on the woman from earlier who had dropped the porcelain. She had stood and jolted backward behind the Duke.
“Lady Draven,” Liadan began.
I waved him off. “Amara is fine. Cassiel is slumbering.”
The collective exhale could be felt.
“And that,” I motioned my hand toward them, “is why it is important we all cooperate. Has the council spread any news about Cassiel yet?”
I looked at Liadan. “The newspaper went out informing Sycarians that the Warlord King’s conditions had worsened.”
“He is direct evidence of their lies.” I met Morak’s eyes. He did not turn away. This was the first time we truthfully took each other’s measure.
“I believed you were nothing but his plaything.”
“You thought incorrectly,” I said haughtily. “I have made a deal with Lord Draven in order to help the Resistance. Do not make my efforts more difficult by insulting him.”
Liadan crossed his arms. “You have done a lot in effort to help us, Amara,” he murmured.
“What have you offered him?” Morak asked abruptly. The manner he watched me was piercing, but not much could affect me.
“Myself,” I said.
Morak’s brows furrowed. “We should kill him and be done with—”
“I welcome you to try,” I interrupted. “But I have no doubt he will end everyone here if you attempt it.”
“If what you say is true. How can we trust you?”
Liadan rubbed the top of his hair. “Saints,” he muttered.
I held no words back. “All of you would have been dead if not for me. In honesty, I would have rather joined my wraithling in death.”
Morak flinched.
“That pain is indescribable. An agony that should never be felt.” My voice lowered with emotion. “Nothing is left for me.” I shrugged. “If offering myself saves us all and ends the council, I will do what is needed.”
“But he’s a monster.” The soft voice reached past the silence. The woman behind the Duke poked out from around him.
I could not deny that. Cassiel was casual cruelty and icy resolve.
“But I have a conscience,” I said. “I will continue to keep him in line.”
“Why does he listen to you?” she asked, eyebrows furrowed.
“Because I am his bondmate.” Silence and shock came from her and the Duke.
“Liadan explained much of what you told him. The Lore of Old and the truths that come with it. What if he is fooling you?” Morak moved forward and dropped onto the seat before the desk. The Duke returned to sitting behind the desk.
I almost spoke of the wraithling bond, and him replacing Piper’s spot, but I held my tongue.
“Well, we will see, but as for me, there is no reason to doubt my intentions. I want the death of the council. I know Cassiel wants the same. The rest can be dealt with after.”
The Duke’s smirk caught my eye.
“You are not quite what I expected,” he mused. “When I saw you at the Solstice ball, you were a timid thing, shuffling at the back of his feeders.”
“I know time and place,” I said, meeting his eyes. “My lord.”
“Dev is fine,” he said, leaning back. He paused a moment. “On second thought, the Warlord seems a bit possessive. My lord will do, Lady Draven.” Humor danced across his features.
“It is very clear His Highness held himself still today. And it was clearly because of Miss Amara,” Liadan said, directing it at Morak.
“I see it,” Morak grumbled. “I have never seen that monster so . . . still.”
I stiffened.
“Look at how she tenses in his defense,” Morak said. His haughtiness was not necessary. I defended him not out of care, but because the alliance must hold.
“He does not have to be here. Yet he is. We must all put aside the squabbles and focus on the true enemy.” The argument spilled from my lips, flirting with anger. “Liadan, may I have a word?”
“Of course.” Liadan crossed to my side. I bowed the slightest bit and turned on my heel. Liadan matched my pace. “You put Morak in his place.” A wry smile crossed his face.
“Is he always so contrary?” I murmured.
Liadan went quiet and sighed. “His family was slaughtered at a Harvest—the Reliquary.”
I met Liadan’s eyes. They were shadowed by sadness.
“I am sorry,” I breathed. I had let my temper run away with me again. “His concern is justifiable.”
“Well, yes, but you were not wrong either.” He patted my shoulder. “Now, what did you need to mention?”
I stopped near the foyer where dawnlight spilled through the curtains. “You recall when we parted ways. You stated you would be retrieving an item?”
“To cross into the Kingdom of Oro.”
“What was that object?”
“A stone that is now in the hands of the Resistance. It is why I was unable to carry it about with me. I had to meet Morak to get it from him after many, many attempts to convince him. As if I were not the one to give it to the cause.” He clicked his tongue.
I grabbed his arm. He stopped, frowning at me.
“I must see it,” I said, attempting to keep myself calm.
“I do not have it with me, but I will be happy to show it to you when we arrive.” His eyebrows furrowed. “Why?”
I would not give him details, not until I had it in hand. I did not want to chance that the Resistance would hide it from me.
“It is called a Sanguine Stone. I believe it will help us win against the council.”