Chapter 45
Syneca
If you suddenly can’t remember someone’s name mid-conversation, they’ve just lied to you. Your mind rejects them before your mouth can.
Vitoria pulled back, hands gripping my shoulders like she needed to confirm I was real. Her eyes were dim, and there were shadows under them I’d never seen before.
“You look like hell,” I said, because what else do you say to your best friend who might be a murderer?
“You smell like you crossed a continent.” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Through the Ash. Damnit, Syn, I never wanted you to follow me here.”
Silas growled from his corner, low with warning.
Vitoria glanced at him, and something of her old self flickered through. “Still grumpy, I see. Some things never change.”
“He’s tired,” I said, though that was putting it mildly.
“He’s a pain in the ass with wings.” But her voice held affection despite the words. “Remember when he ate my entire breakfast because I called him an oversized house cat?”
“You deserved that.”
“I absolutely did.” She moved into the room properly, and that’s when I noticed Calder had his hand near his blade, every line of his body tense.
Vitoria noticed too. “Cal? Are you okay?”
“Haven’t decided yet.” But he relaxed a hair, never taking his eyes off her.
She pulled something from her pocket, dried fruit and a piece of cheese wrapped in cloth. Tossed it to Calder without preamble. “Eat. You look like you haven’t had a decent meal in days.”
He caught it reflexively, suspicion warring with hunger. Hunger won. He bit into the cheese, still watching her like she might vanish or attack at any moment.
“Sit,” Vitoria said, gesturing to the bed like this was her room instead of mine. “Please. I don’t have much time.”
We sat—me on the bed, Calder taking the chair by the window, Vitoria settling on the floor with her back against the wall. Like old times. Like none of this nightmare had happened.
Except it had.
“I’m not the Phoenix,” she said immediately. “I know what they’re saying. What they think I did. But I swear to you, Syn, I’m not.”
I drew back. “I know you’re not. You think I don’t know that? I’ve been defending you the entire time. Fighting to find you before they could kill you for something you didn’t do.”
Relief flooded her face, but it was followed quickly by guilt.
“I was hiding in the alley that night,” she whispered. “During the ceremony. I watched them call Calder onto the stage. I knew he had no choice.” Her voice cracked. “But then you volunteered. You stepped forward when you could have walked away, and it broke something inside me.”
The accusation in her tone stung.
“What was I supposed to do?” I shot back. “Let them hunt you?”
“I thought we were family.” Tears gathered in her eyes. “You think I don’t know what the Venatori oath does? You have to kill me, or you die.”
“It never demanded life. Hunt, not kill. We are family,” I said fiercely. “I was—” Foreign magic pushed against my ribs.
An insidious voice that said: Kill her.
End this.
I shoved it down hard, gasping.
“Why do you think he used my daggers in the blood oath? A weapon. An oath sealed with blood. There can be only one payment, and you know that.”
She’s right there.
Just reach out and—
Calder's dark fingers were locked around the chair with enough force to make the wood groan beneath his grip. “Syn?”
“I’m fine.” I wasn’t. The oath was demanding payment, screaming at me that the target was within reach, that all I had to do was act. “Keep talking, Vitoria. Please.”
She studied me with knowing eyes. “The blood oath. You’re fighting it.”
“So is Calder.” I glanced at him. His jaw was clenched tight enough to crack teeth. “So talk fast before we lose the fight.”
“I killed Eda Mire.” The words were soft. Gentle. Like she was confessing something sacred instead of murder. “I didn’t want to. Syn, you have to know I didn’t want to. I didn’t have a choice.”
I heard my own heart break. I knew it was her, but I didn’t want to believe it. I’d survived the death of my grandmother thanks to Eda Mire. And the death of Eda Mire simply by holding on to the hope that it wasn’t Vitoria.
“Why?” My voice cracked.
“Because the Master commanded it.” Vitoria’s hands twisted together.
“He controls me. Not with a spell. I’m not possessed or enchanted.
But he has power here. Real power. And he marked me.
Bound me. I can’t disobey direct commands without.
..” She trailed off, but the fear in her eyes finished the sentence.
I had a thousand questions for her. A million why’s and how’s. But none came to me as I sat in heartache. Suddenly, not a single one mattered.
“The Oracle,” Calder said quietly. “You tried to kill her, too.”
“Yes.” No hesitation. No excuses. “The Master wanted her dead. Wanted to destabilize the city, create chaos. I tried to fight it. It’s why I missed.”
The oath pressed harder.
She’s confessing.
She’s admitting guilt.
Kill her.
End this.
“And now?” I forced the words out through gritted teeth.
“Now I’m marked to die.” Vitoria’s laugh was bitter.
“He doesn’t need me anymore. Whatever plan he had, it’s moved past the point where I’m useful.
So he’ll dispose of me. Probably publicly.
Probably painfully through your oath.” She looked at me with desperate eyes.
“I need you to break it. The binding. Please. I know you’re mad.
I’m sorry about Eda Mire. But please. I love you. You have to find another way.”
I nodded, still fighting myself. “We can break the blood oath with your blood, willingly given. That’s all we need.”
Hope flared in her expression, eyes lighting up. “That’s all?”
“I think so.” I pulled a vial I kept water in from my pack, hands shaking slightly as I held it out.
Vitoria didn’t hesitate. She drew out a dagger and sliced across her palm. Blood welled immediately, and she held her hand over the vial, letting the drops fall.
“Thank you,” she said as I stoppered it. “For trusting me. For loving me even when you had every reason not to.” Her voice broke slightly.
“We’re friends,” I said simply. “That’s what friends do.”
She jerked suddenly, like someone had yanked an invisible rope. Her hand went to her chest, pressing hard.
“He’s calling. I have to go. But I’ll come back tomorrow. I promise. We’ll figure this out. We’ll break the binding and the oath and—”
Another jerk. Harder this time.
“I have to go.” She was already moving toward the door. “Tomorrow. I promise.”
Then she was gone, slipping into the hallway and disappearing before either of us could respond.
The pressure from the oath eased immediately. I sagged against the bed, gasping like I’d been holding my breath.
“That was too easy.” Calder’s voice was flat. Hard.
“What?”
“That was too easy, Syn.” He stood, moving toward the door with predatory focus.
“She just... showed up? Confessed everything? Gave us exactly what we needed to break the oath? After we crossed countries to find her? She could have told us all that before she left Grimora. She never said how she got here. Why she came back here if her master had given her freedom. We’ve known her for years.
I’m telling you, something’s not right. And we’re just supposed to trust that we know it all?
That breaking the oath won’t trigger something worse? ”
My stomach dropped. “We don’t have to go through with it.”
“Should we follow her?”
I wanted to say yes. Wanted to chase after Vitoria and demand more answers, better explanations, proof that she wasn’t leading us into disaster.
But the oath, even diminished, still hummed in my veins. And Calder’s expression was wild, desperate, fighting something I knew he’d eventually lose.
“No.” The word hurt. “You wanted to kill her. The entire time she was here, you wanted to end it.”
“I did.” No denial. “The only thing stopping me was you being in the way. And next time...” He swallowed hard. “Next time I won’t be able to stop myself. And I’m not sure I can trust my own instincts. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe it’s the oath driving us to distrust her.”
I held the vial up, blood dripping down the side. “What do I do with this?”
“Hide it, Syn. Don’t go anywhere on your own, and for Furies’ sake, stay out of the hunter’s bed. I would never interfere with your happiness, but you’re being foolish.” He left before I could argue.
I moved to the window, pressing my forehead against glass that was somehow warm instead of cold.
The city was dark. Vitoria appeared on the street below, moving quickly, her black hair catching the purple glow from floating chalices as she passed.
She avoided them carefully, I noticed. Gave each one a wide berth, like getting too close would hurt. Because she was not the Phoenix.
She was not the Phoenix.
This entire thing had been a setup from the beginning, and I needed to keep reminding myself of that. The truth lay somewhere between what we knew and what we thought we knew, and until we had answers, nothing could be done.
I watched until she disappeared around a corner, swallowed by shadows and a city far too perfect.
We had the blood. Had a way to break the oath.
So why did it feel like everything just got worse?