Chapter 21 Seraphine
When Nadia returned that evening, Sera was crouched on the floor, tying her sheets together. Her lunch, a sludge of root vegetables, sat untouched on the dresser.
Bootsteps rounded the bed, and too late, Sera shoved the mess of sheets behind her.
‘I see you’ve been busy.’ Nadia crooked a slender brow. ‘If not successful.’
Sera rose and perched on the side of the bed.
The former Dagger had come alone this time. ‘I wouldn’t try it, by the way. The drop would still kill you.’
They glared at each other. ‘What are you doing here, Nadia? Have you come for another vial of my blood?’
‘I thought you might be lonely.’ Sarcasm edged her voice. ‘Or, more likely, planning to do something stupid.’
‘Well, what are my choices?’ Sera snapped back. ‘Andreas isn’t going to let me walk out of here alive. And Lisette stuck a knife into Ransom, so I’d say the chances of him showing up are even slimmer. If he’s even still alive.’
Nadia was stone-faced.
Sera prodded again. ‘Shouldn’t you be with your darling Necromancer, dining in a graveyard somewhere?’
That made her flinch.
Interesting. Perhaps Nadia was as uncomfortable in this draughty old castle as she was. At least she could come and go as she pleased. And wasn’t being bled for power by thirsty, grasping men.
Nadia huffed, coming to the point. ‘Your blood didn’t take. Darius remains as he was.’
‘A terrifying bastard with a giant stick up his ass?’
Nadia’s eyes shot wide, and a shocked laugh bubbled out before she could stop it. She smothered it with her sleeve, glancing towards the Rose-bearers by the door. They stared ahead.
Sera seized upon the crack in her composure. ‘So you agree? The Stargrazers should piss off back home.’
‘It doesn’t matter what I think,’ said Nadia quickly.
‘It used to. When you were part of an Order that valued you.’
‘Lark values me.’
‘Does he?’ Sera challenged.
Nadia cut her eyes at her. ‘Darius is getting impatient. The prince has convinced him to wait a while longer. He says sometimes it takes a day. Maybe two.’
She shrugged. ‘If Darius believes that, he’s a fool. He would know by now if there was magic in his bones. I would know.’ Of course it was never going to take. Once outside her body, her blood was just her blood. ‘That’s not how magic works.’
She had known all along.
‘How do you stand it?’ she said. ‘Working with all these power-crazed idiots.’
Nadia’s dark eyes flickered, and Sera swore she glimpsed a kernel of understanding.
‘Andreas is going to kill you.’ Nadia spoke bluntly. ‘When time runs out and his cousin remains unchanged, the Silver-tongue will end you himself. He won’t risk you getting out or making more saints to challenge him.’
It was not unsurprising news. It was Nadia’s candour that caught her off guard.
‘Why are you telling me this?’
‘So you can decide your own fate. For once.’ She frowned. ‘If you agree to stay here and make saints of Andreas’s choosing—’
‘Urnican saints,’ Sera guessed.
A grim nod. ‘He’ll let you live, under his rules. He’ll grant you a place in his court.’
‘You make it look so enjoyable.’
‘There are worse fates.’
‘And better ones,’ said Sera pointedly. ‘You should have come with us that night at the Summer Palace.’
‘My place is with Lark.’ Her words were belied by the uncertainty on her face. ‘The choice is yours, Maker. Andreas’s court or the bottom of the river.’
‘I’d sooner hurl myself out of that window.’
‘You might have to if you don’t play along.’ She turned to go.
Panic set in. Nadia was no ally but she was the closest thing Sera had to a confidante in here, and despite their enmity there was something else between them – the cracked foundations of an old, tenuous friendship.
‘What would you do?’ said Sera. ‘If the choice was yours?’
Nadia leaned in, close enough that the soldiers couldn’t hear her. ‘I would choose death. Andreas has enough power. He doesn’t need another drop of it.’
She started to walk away.
‘Wait!’ Sera called after her.
Nadia stopped, turning on her boot heel.
‘I can’t settle,’ she said quickly. ‘I know I won’t sleep tonight. Every time I close my eyes, I see Ransom. Gasping. Dying.’
Nadia’s brow furrowed.
‘I need something to turn off my thoughts. Just for a few hours. At least then I won’t feel it when Andreas comes. I won’t even fight it.’
‘What are you asking for?’
‘Mistbane. A vial.’
‘I don’t have any mistbane.’
‘You could get some for me.’ Sera gripped the wrought-iron footboard. ‘One last gesture of kindness to bury the rest.’
The betrayal. The anger. The resentment.
Nadia’s nostrils flared, a ‘no’ hovering on the tip of her tongue.
‘Please,’ said Sera. ‘It’s the only thing I’ll ever ask of you.’
Wrinkling her nose, Nadia left without saying a word.
An hour later, a tray arrived with Sera’s dinner. A bowl of stringy lamb stew, and with it a single glass vial. The silver dust glimmered in the falling dark.
Sera sat by the window and choked down her stew. Afterwards, she palmed the vial and returned to her bed, where she sat and plotted, waiting for dawn.