Chapter Forty-Six
THE SPY
My eyelids sluggishly opened, awareness sharpening.
It reeked with the harsh scent of chemicals and mildew.
I didn’t know where I was or how long I had been here.
Then the events that led to my current position came rushing back to me, slamming against my chest. Grief bellowed at the memory of Korin.
Aching longing nearly stole my breath at the thought of Dom. Anguish crippled my heart.
Find me, I implored. But the connection we had shared from the mind-walking tonic must have worn off. There was no response. I was on my own. My mother’s words whispered in the middle of my despair: “Do not be shaken.”
Someone must have laid me down at some point, and I now sought to sit upright. Roughened rope restrained my body, and I fought against the shackles imbued with magic. Their power burned into my skin as I jerked my arms and legs against them.
My father leaned over me, double-checking the manacles.
I grimaced at his proximity. His face held no recognition, no expression.
It was like gazing into a soulless shell.
The feeling of entrapment and the metal pressing against the scars on my wrist seized my lungs and my chest tightened. I clenched my eyes shut.
“It will be over soon,” Grey whispered over me. The softness in his voice hung in sharp contrast to his mechanical actions. How was he here? Had he been working for Nolan this whole time? I didn’t have time to make sense of all the questions and emotions steamrolling me.
My father retreated as the Supreme Vestal, in his horrid crimson robes, glided around the room. He paused at the sound of my clinking fetters, but did not respond. He lowered his hood as he continued his preparations.
When he finally turned around, I could not harness my breath, my heart stuttering at the sight before me.
The Supreme Vestal was a Nokt. The obsidian stone in his forehead swallowed all light that entered it.
There were no whites to his eyes, only a consuming blackness that shrieked violence.
His jaundiced skin contributed a ghastly glow to his black hair which hung in stringy clumps.
It fell listlessly and he didn’t bother to shove it away from his brow.
He grinned malevolently, sniffing the air as he strode toward me.
He raised his palm and my body immediately stilled.
I could not move, utterly helpless. Again.
Fear curdled within me. I emptied of all emotion, save rage.
It surged to the surface of my being, its energy demanding I respond—flee or fight.
But I could do neither, only watch and wait.
I retreated into myself, to the old part that learned how to withstand torture and pain, disconnecting from my very body until the threat passed.
He held up a needle, examining it in the light.
I started shaking uncontrollably. If evil had a smell, it was this creature.
If violence had a face, it was the one before me.
He licked the needle, then gripped my wrist with his cold, black, crusty fingers.
A satisfied sigh left his decrepit lips as he shoved the needle into a vein.
A tube connected the needle to a pouch of Glint.
It steadily dripped into my veins, warming my blood and numbing my nerves. Oblivion beckoned. My eyes rolled back.
Muffled voices filtered in and out of my consciousness.
I kept my eyes shut, grasping for coherent thoughts.
Glass clinked. A finger traced my arm. The silver symbol in my chest pulsed, harnessing my attention.
Dom’s face flashed before my mind’s eye.
The anguish of my soul multiplied as I thought of his injuries, and his need to find a cure for his blood curse.
I had to hold on for him. I had to fight against one of my greatest fears, the draining of my magic, my lifeblood.
Soon, I would likely become a husk. But I would fight until my skin turned to ash.
My rage solidified into resolve. Delah and Bowen knew how to make the antidote to Glint.
If I could escape, I could take it and avoid the deadly aftereffects of the addictive drug, escaping the fate that Xuri’s mother succumbed to.
I would have a chance to live through the withdrawal symptoms.
My eyes opened a fraction, slowly focusing on Nolan. His shadows churned around him in agitation. He muttered to the Supreme Vestal, gesticulating wildly. I barely grasped his conversation, though words like “prophecy” and “Astral” leapt out at me, begging my mind to sharpen further.
I became aware of a needle in my other arm, connected to more tubes. Water flowed into my body. They were replenishing my magic as they were simultaneously draining it.
The Supreme Vestal motioned toward me and they both pivoted, their discussion abruptly ceasing.
Nolan came to my bedside, his eyes maintaining their reptilian form as he had no reason to hide his true nature. He sniffed up my neck, dragging his nose up my throat, along my jaw, and into my hair. It left a trail of disgust and revulsion in its wake.
“How did you hide your heritage from me for so long?” he murmured in my ear.
“Your own father didn’t know, though he has been well disciplined for his ignorant oversight.
” He stood, adjusting his tunic. “I will not be killing you, Ruin, for your magic is too precious. Though, you might beg for death...” He condescendingly tapped my forehead with his index finger. I jerked away.
As the ghost of his touch lingered on my skin, I beheld a vision. My mind knew Nolan was a master at illusions, yet my heart still clung to the deceptive scene before me.
I sat on a blanket at the beach, laughing at something Delah had said. Her jokes were always so ridiculous they cut through my perpetual frown. She never did let me fully embrace my soldier status. She had always grounded me, one of the things I loved about her.
The sun glittered on the azure waters and the glow of heat warmed my tanned skin. A pelican soared overhead before diving and emerging with a fish in its bill. We clapped for it.
Delah lifted a glass, speaking a toast that was intended to encourage as much as it was to keep me humble. We giggled some more as our glasses met in a tinkling sound.
I winced at a jolting sensation in my arm.
I assessed my forearm but nothing was there.
Delah continued to laugh, unaware of my discomfort.
I tried to remember what we were laughing about.
I peered at her face, but I couldn’t focus on it.
I squinted to clear away the distortions.
It kept shifting as though she were underwater.
My heart began to pound and my limbs felt leaden. I exhaled a reedy breath as the symbol on my chest tingled. Involuntarily, I went to touch it, but my arms would not lift.
Panic flamed through my veins, finding no outlet. I blinked and my vision filled with an obsidian stone. It sucked in the terror of my scream. The owner of the embedded stone smiled sadistically, relishing in the pain and fear that it consumed.
My eyes flashed to my bare legs, where blackened veins webbed a ghastly map under my pale skin. I didn’t know who to pray to. I didn’t know how to call for help. There had to be a way out of this.
“Do not be shaken.”
A soft click sounded, and the Glint restarted its nefarious slow drip into my lifeblood. A tear slipped down my cheek. As it landed on the thin white tunic I had been changed into, I distantly registered its crimson color. More blood welled up, obscuring my vision.
Then darkness stole me into its anesthetizing embrace.