My mother’s face grows hard, her wobbling double-chin firming. “What of the citizens caught in the middle? The women and children who lose their husbands to Rirth’s reckless, lawless activities?”
I’m alarmed at her tone and the substance of what she’s suggesting. “Surely you can’t be saying he’s becoming the very wickedness he’s fighting against? Rirth has always had strong opinions and virtues, even when I knew him well in the Firehold. He wouldn’t betray himself.”
“All I’m saying, dear daughter, is the man needs a leash. Direction. Someone to guide him the right way.”
She leans forward. I start to pick up what she’s saying. Averting my gaze, I let out a huff of annoyance. “You think I can be that guide.”
“I’m telling you you can. And should.”
“And I’m telling you I can’t.” I stand from the seat abruptly, pacing to the other side of the small room so I don’t have to face my mother head-on. With my hand gripping the back of the chair, I squeeze it hard. “I don’t have control over Rirth or the Silverknights anymore than I have control over my own mates. Besides, I have my own revolution to fight in Olhav. Cut the head off the snake.”
She doubles back, shaking her head furiously. “Youdohave control over your mates, Sephania. They see a guiding star in you. Rirth could be the same!”
Her loud words bounce off the walls and sit in the air, lingering once they’ve long spilled from her mouth.
Cautiously, my mother speaks while lifting one of the murky Silverblood vials, until we’re both looking at it. “Thisis your control, whether you want it or not. This is the means to end the conflicts at both ends of the Olhavian Peaks. It will break the binds that keep thralls under their vampire masters. And it will be done without affecting you.”
Her words make me nervous. “Ifit works. There’s still a hefty trial period to embark upon before we can say the Silverblood is the battle-changer we think it is.”
“Which is why I’m glad you’re here, daughter.” Jinneth stands and heads for the door, glancing over her shoulder in the hope I’ll follow. “Because we have our first willing test subject, and I’d like you to observe the healing so you can give us insight.”
When she leaves the room, I begrudgingly follow. My curiosity won’t let me do otherwise. Shuffling up beside her as she marches down the dark hall, I ask, “Who do you have in mind? One of the Chained Sisters?” There’s a hint of alarm to my voice.Don’t destroy your own people for the sake of a “test,” Mother. It’s not worth the potential heartache.
“A particular vampiress, yes.” We come to another room and she gently pushes open the door. In a lower voice, Jinneth says, “She’s become even more erratic and strange than when you left.”
Inside, Sister Cyprilis sits on a small bed, staring at the stone wall like it’s a prison cell keeping her trapped. But my mother didn’t undo any locks to get in here. Cy has always been free to leave the Chained Sisters.
The girl I grew up with in the House of the Broken, under Father Cullard’s misguided hand, has a blank expression in her red eyes when she turns to me, like she’s been entranced by something not of this world. She is as skinny and veiny as ever, putting on the appearance of someone who is halfway to death’s door. Again.
Jinneth stays near the door. She lets me pass her and holds a hand out. “Cyprilis, dear? Surely you remember Sephania, your friend?”
“Is it you, Mistress?” the girl creaks through chattering teeth. There’s something diabolical about the expression on her haunted face. She was turned only months ago, has lost three children, and has since referred to me as “Mistress” after sipping my Loreblood.
“Hello, Cy,” I say with a warm smile, entering the room with my shoulders raised high. “Iswhatme?”
“Did you find my children? Did you steal them from me, Mistress?” She chuckles to herself, shaking her head. “I know you would never do something like that. But the voices . . . they’re telling me not to trust you.”
I glance at Jinneth with a worried expression. My look says,She truly has been gods-touched, hasn’t she? Vampirism is more difficult for her to navigate than it is for, say, Palacia.
Jinneth creeps forward cautiously. She wags the vial, putting her hands out in surrender, and it gives off the impression Cyprilis has become unwieldy and violent in her time away from human society. Surely the tunnels and the darkness can’t help.
“Are you ready for the drink we talked about, dear?” Jinneth asks.
I feel a presence behind me: Iron Sister Keffa, quietly melding in. This is potentially a major milestone for our revolt. Of course the leader of the Chained Sisters has to be here, witnessing it.
“Does it taste yummy, Mistress?” Cyprilis asks, reverting to her childlike attitude. She leans forward on the bed, sinking it as she puts her hands down.
“It tastes like blood,” I say frankly.
Cy smiles. “Lovely.” She curls her hand at Jinneth and the vial. “Bring it here, old hag. Corrupt me with your treachery. I don’t care, witch woman.”
Her words make it seem like she does care. Like she’s given up. Like my mother has been coercing her to this decision to drink the Silverblood potion.
I sit on the side of the bed with her, taking the potion from Jinneth’s hand, giving it to Cyprilis. She looks so small and quaint next to me, but I know she’s a dangerous individual ever since her turning.
Quite swiftly, Cyprilis upturns the vial and drinks its contents. A line of red and silver trickles down her chin. With a belch, she hands back the empty vial. “Well? Now what? Am I cured?”
Jinneth fidgets in front of her rotund belly. “Old Endolf made me realize the effects are not instant. You must have patience, young Sister. Sephania and I will return.”