Chapter XXXIV
XXXIV
Certain kinds of magic can be inked into the skin.
Typically this provides the practitioner faster means of access to a sigil for spells he regularly uses, although some deeper forms of magic require marking to be effective.
Many such marks are signs of Orcan magic and play a key role in the identification and annihilation of such practices.
“You have got to be,” Xan panted, “the stupidest motherfucker I have ever met.”
He lay on his back beside Vic in the snow and twisted toward her as he spoke. His voice had grown raspy from the smoke, and he looked at Vic with stormy eyes.
“What?” Her voice made almost no sound, and Vic coughed.
“You were supposed to get out,” he said, regaining his composure much quicker than Vic. He rolled onto his front and stared daggers at her. “What the fuck were you thinking fighting them off?”
“I saved you,” Vic croaked. The cold, though overwhelming when they’d first stepped outside, was almost pleasant after the unbearable heat of the entrance hall.
Xan laughed. A booming, bright thing. The tendons in his neck pulled around the muscles as his head fell back.
“You did not.”
“I did!” Vic insisted. “You were outnumbered. They would have eaten you alive if I hadn’t gone back.”
Xan plopped his face in the snow, as if Vic were simply too exasperating to handle.
“That’s cute, but I was fine,” he said as he lifted his head. Stray ice clung to his beard and eyebrows, and Vic wanted to brush it away.
“They would have had you for dinner!”
Xan kept laughing like Vic had said the funniest thing in the world.
“I had it under control. Why would I stay behind if I couldn’t handle it?”
“I thought you were being noble,” Vic said. “Stop laughing! There were like a thousand of them!”
“There were twelve of them.”
Twelve, Vic mouthed. “Twelve is a lot of monsters!”
“You know we don’t keep the really deadly Orcans in the castle. Those were like kindergarten Orcans.”
“Kindergarten? Fuck you. Fuck this place.” Vic threw her head into the snow, balled her hands into fists, and screamed.
Beside her Xan’s laughter filled the air, and Vic wanted to throttle him.
When he regained control of himself enough to speak, Xan turned to Vic and said, “In the future, when I give you an order, I expect you to follow it.”
Vic blew a raspberry at him, and he burst into a new chorus of laughter.
He poked Vic in the side and said, “I’m glad you’re alive, you little hellion.”
His eyes dropped to Vic’s lips, and he was going to kiss her again. Vic wanted him to. They were alive. They’d made it out of the castle, and Vic felt delirious with her own luck. Xan leaned in until their faces were only inches apart when Vic remembered the rest of what had happened.
“Do you think anyone else made it out?” she whispered.
Xan didn’t back away, though he frowned.
“No, I don’t.”
“Why did you stop me?” Vic asked. “Right after Nathaniel opened the cages, I wanted to go find people.”
“You wouldn’t have survived going into the thick of it,” he said, matter-of-fact like he had no doubts about it. “I was already worried you’d overextended yourself.”
“You could have left me. You could have gone on alone.”
Xan tilted his head slightly, looking at Vic with that too-observant expression, too aware of her. “I made my decision,” he said.
“I don’t need protecting,” Vic said. Not anymore, she thought.
Xan huffed a laugh. “No, I was the one that needed protecting. You tried to maul me back there.”
Vic’s face went hot as hellfire. Had she ever blushed before in her life? Today was full of unwelcome firsts. Xan must have caught her mortified expression, because he laughed again. He shrugged, but his shoulders looked tight and tense.
“I get it,” he said. “I tried to explain, but things like that happen when you’re newly Made. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. The change affects your impulse control.”
But there was something else he wasn’t saying to her, and Vic opened her mouth to ask.
A rumble in the distance made Vic jump, and she twisted toward the road.
Xan groaned as he pulled away from her, and Vic felt colder instantly. Xan stood and extended a hand to pull her up. She followed with considerable clumsiness, until they stood shoulder to shoulder facing the driveway.
Now that the fighting had ended, Vic felt the day’s events in her body. Every cell ached. Her joints and muscles and her face felt stretched and tired. Her legs shook, and Xan put an arm behind her back to steady her.
A row of armored cars tore down the narrow lane. At least ten of them.
But her gaze stuck on something overhead.
A speck against the night grew larger as Vic stared, until it took the form of a black bird.
A raven. It flew directly at her, and Vic put her hands above her head on instinct.
But before it could hit her, the feathered wings stretched farther than they ought to have been able, and the creature grew in size until it unfolded into the shape of a man.
Into Max, to be precise. He landed on the snow-covered cobblestones and strode toward Vic without missing a step. She stared dumbfounded at him.
Max brushed quick hands over her shoulders. “Are you hurt?”
Vic caught his eyes as they drifted in front of her, and Max stilled. She saw surprise there as he registered the Lumen. Vic wondered how many shocked looks she would receive before the end of this.
She shook her head as Xan spoke.
“Nathaniel was working with Mann. They tried to kill her. First with something in the woods, probably a mimic. Then she came back to the castle as he was opening the cages. I found them in the Arena, right before he destroyed the training area.”
Behind Max, the vehicles bearing the Sentinels pulled to a stop.
Doors opened quickly, and Sentinels filtered out, looking rumpled and curious as they watched Max, Xan, and Vic.
They wore combat uniforms of heavy black coats and utility pants, though most were streaked with dirt and detritus and looked distinctly the worse for wear.
“The massacre was a distraction so they could get the castle.”
“Massacre?” Vic asked. “What happened?”
“An Orcan attack,” Xan said. “A village near the border.”
“Is Henry okay?” Vic asked, looking to Max.
“He’s fine.” Max patted her arm. “He’s with the other recruits at the safe house.”
Vic released an enormous sigh. She hadn’t even let herself worry that Henry had been inside the castle.
“But why would Mann want the castle?” Vic asked. “It was almost empty, just servants.”
Max was shaking his head. “There’s a chance he only wanted to deal us a figurative blow.
Disrupting our stronghold makes the Order look weak, makes him look stronger by comparison,” he said, and Vic hated the idea that all that—the blood lining the hallway—amounted to nothing more than a chess move.
Make the Order look weak. Could that really be it?
“He might have done more than release the Orcans. We won’t know until we get inside. ”
“We need to clear the castle,” Xan said. “Check for survivors, see if we can restore—”
“Yes, yes,” Max agreed, eyes on Vic. “We need to talk first.”
“She needs to rest,” Xan said.
“You’ll rest after,” Max told her. “We need to talk.”
“Look at her,” Xan said. “She’s dead on her feet. We can do this later.”
“There isn’t time.”
For a tense moment, Vic thought Xan might hit Max.
He glared at the older man before crossing his arms in front of his chest and standing firm beside Vic.
Max paid no attention to Xan. He watched Vic, his face torn between sympathy and curiosity.
War had finally come to the Order, and Max looked ready to fight.
“Tell me what happened.”
The Sentinels crowded in around them, eager to hear for themselves, and Vic’s voice shook as she recounted the events in the forest. A few gasped at her description of being Made, and an instant later Sarah and May pulled out of the crowd to stand next to her.
Vic didn’t have the urge to cry, though she wondered if she should. She ought to sob and scream and break things. She described as much as she remembered in a torn and crinkled voice. It was the best she could do.
Max’s expression shifted from shock to horror to what she guessed was pride. Xan did not move a muscle as he stared forward, his face blank. Such a shift from the man laughing in the snow.
When she told them what had happened once she returned to the castle, angry sounds came from the gathered Sentinels.
“He’s dead,” Xan cut in when she got to the part in the Arena.
Vic shivered and a coat fell over her shoulders. She turned to see May placing it there and mumbled thanks. May’s expression sobered when their eyes met.
“Nathaniel admitted to setting the mimic on me,” Vic said. “That must be how it knew my brother’s voice.”
“I had the same thought,” Max said. “It isn’t easy, but some Orcans can be trained. Small things, like repeating a voice.”
Vic imagined Nathaniel teaching the thing in the woods to sound like her brother. Tossing it chunks of raw liver when it got the exact tenor of his cries correct. She wanted to scream.
“I assume you understand what happened to you in the woods,” Max said.
That was a strong word for it. Vic knew the name of what had happened.
She had fallen; she had been Made. She had gotten back up a different person, one who had seen death and lived to tell the tale.
But no, she didn’t understand. Vic nodded.
“Nathaniel thought Mann had me Made on purpose,” she said, and some of the Sentinels made sounds of surprise.
Max watched her carefully as he raised a single eyebrow. “It’s possible,” he said in a grim voice. “You are important to him.”
“Why?” Her voice was barely a whisper.
“Because your mother was important to him,” Max said simply. “The Order is at war. Today was a warning shot.”