Shame and regret hollowed out my insides. “I’m sorry,” I breathed the apology over and over until the phrase lost all meaning. Tears flowed down my cheeks, salty and hot as an uncontrollable sob broke from my lungs.
“It’s okay, Farrow,” Casimir reassured me.
That only made me cry harder. Nothing about this was okay.
“Oy!” called an angry voice up ahead. “Now is not the time for your little lover’s reunion. Get your Darkseer the fuck up and walking before I come over there and make him.”
I glared daggers at Evren but obeyed his command out of fear that he would make good on his promise. The last thing Casimir needed in his weakened state was to be tortured. Stronger thanks to the antidote, Casimir was able to stand on his own, and we followed Evren toward the woods at the edge of campus. The frozen ground crunched under our feet. It was quiet, save for the faint screeching of violins and peals of laughter coming from the distant ballroom. The full moon loomed brightly overhead, and every place its luminosity touched felt like a harbinger of death. There was nowhere left to hide.
“You should go, now,” Casimir whispered into the darkness.
“No way,” I hissed back. “You need the rest of that antidote. Evren says you’ll die without it, so I’m not going anywhere.”
The possibility of eliminating Evren and seizing the antidote was now out of the question. Casimir couldn’t glamour him without receiving a massive shock to the system, and he was in no state to endure it. I no longer cared about stopping the ritual. Getting Casimir that antidote was my sole objective.
Casimir saw the hard resolve etched into my features, his expression wary. Just before we reached the chapel, he held me back with a brush of his knuckle against my elbow and whispered into the shell of my ear.
“Two things. First, don’t take off that necklace, whatever you do.”
My hand automatically darted to the necklace coiled against my throat.
“Second, remember that you are the Heir, and that means your blood will protect you against glamours—at least, to an extent. Focus on escaping.”
He drew back and turned his gaze toward the Grotto, his mask concealing even the faintest trace of dismay.
37
Iscarcely recognized the place. The room that had once served as a heathenish den for undergrads had been transformed into a sinister ritual site. A dozen candles dripped vermilion wax onto the stone floor, reflecting off the stained glass windows and bathing the chapel in a reddish glow. The pews nearest to the altar had been cleared away to make room for twelve cloaked figures standing in a circular formation. The members of the Order, at last assembled beneath the full moon. The sharp metallic scent of magic burned at my nostrils, and I fought against the taste of it, like cold steel, like the air on the first day of winter. Not a glamour this time, but something much more potent. As we drew closer, my eyes darted to a leather-bound book resting on the table in the middle of the circle. A familiar eye gleamed on its cover, the twin to the one burned into Casimir’s wrist.
TheBook of Erebos.
My stomach plummeted to the floor.
How had they found it? I’d hidden the Book in our dormitory after they’d ransacked it. The floor swirled beneath my feet, and I steadied myself against Casimir’s shoulder. It was impossible. No oneexcept for me and Casimir knew where the Book was hidden—and yet, there it was. The horrible sinking in my stomach only intensified. We should have destroyed the Book when we had the chance. I dared a panicked glance at Casimir.
He met my gaze stonily, his expression unreadable. The only indication that he’d seen the Book was the slight crease between his brows.
A figure appeared on the dais and spoke in a cold, silky voice. “Glad you could join us, Miss Farrow, Wrayburn,” Devereaux said by way of greeting.
Casimir gave no sign that he’d heard Devereaux speak. He did not even deign to look at him, but continued glaring at theBook of Ereboslying innocently on the table.
Devereaux gave a little tut of disappointment. “I had hoped we might meet under less unpleasant circumstances, but alas,” he said with a sigh. “It was not to be.”
To my right, Evren snickered. My eyes darted to the Blue Morpho pinned to Devereaux’s lapel. Already dead. It felt like an omen.
“In any case,” Devereaux continued, recovering himself, “I am delighted to see my most trusted allies gathered here tonight, together at last. Veronika, if you would bring forth our donors...”
On cue, Veronika stepped onto the dais, tight-lipped and haughty as ever, and dragging a girl behind her?—
Not just a girl.Gwen.
My roommate stumbled onto the dais, looking terrified and confused in equal measure, with Neha not far behind. Time slowed to a crawl.
I barely heard Casimir’s voice hissing in my ear, “Arden, let me handle this.”
My brain stuttered to a halt. Neha, August, and Gwen were ushered into the center of the room before the altar.
They must be drugged or glamoured,I thought,to obediently kneel on the dais like that.Veronika descended the steps to join the circle of Daemons. Devereaux opened theBook of Erebosand began to speak to the Vrag Kigna in dulcet tones, requesting permission to begin the Bloodrite. I caught the phrase,Lingua Sanguinis. I didn’t need to probe Gwen’s knowledge of Latin to translate its meaning: Blood Tongue.