August’s face was as pale as the moonlight streaming in through the broken window, his expression resigned. Gwen and Neha looked too petrified to speak, or perhaps Devereaux had silenced their tongues.
“Take your place, Darkseer,” Evren snarled, jerking his chin toward the circle of Order members.
I was horrified to discover Casimir’s complexion was ashen once more. Beads of sweat pebbled his forehead, which must mean the antidote was wearing off, and the poison was working its pernicious way through his body once more.
“Please,” Casimir hissed into my ear. “Go.”
“What a quandary this is,” Devereaux mused from the dais. His silky voice made my skin crawl. “Tonight, your Darkseer must either participate in the rite, thereby restoring his powers to full strength, or slowly succumb to the poison. You must admit, Wrayburn, how foolish it will be to die in some misguided attempt to spare the life of a mortal?” He sighed regretfully. “And to think that this may be the end of the Wrayburn bloodline?”
His remarks drew titters from the assembled Daemons.
Casimir glared back at him. “You left out the part where you spill the blood of innocents,” he spat.
The room went utterly silent.
Devereaux, however, smiled wanly at him. “You always had that rebellious spark in you, Wrayburn. Once, it served you well. But I am afraid you must become something of a villain tonight.” He strode down the steps of the altar and passed through the circle of Daemons to stand face to face with Casimir. “You know that saying the mortals have? ‘Life is precious?’ What it really meansis that human life is utterly fragile. Breakable.” He gave a sad little sigh, as though regretful for this unavoidable fact of mortality.
Again, my eyes were drawn to the dead butterfly pinned to his jacket, a reminder that Devereaux Graves would snuff the life out of any creature that he stood to gain from.
Devereaux continued, “A life so fragile that it must end, whether we intervene or not. My way, I hope, is a little kinder. It will be quick, and it will give their lives purpose, which is more than I can say for most. Their blood will be offered to the goddess, Sirenix, and they will be the means of restoring the Bloodthorn Order to its former glory. It’s what your mother wanted for you, Wrayburn.”
Casimir flinched, and I clenched my teeth in fury. How dare Devereaux taunt him with memories of his mother? His mother, who honed his powers into a weapon for her own political ambitions, and blackmailed him into joining Devereaux’s rebellion against the Queen, which resulted in his sister being imprisoned.
“Fuck you,” I snarled at Devereaux.
Evren hissed at my rudeness, and beside me, Casimir went rigid. A flash of fear betrayed his features for a moment before he composed himself.
“If you swear that you will not harm her, I will complete the rite,” Casimir rasped.
My gaze snapped to his face, but he didn’t so much as glance in my direction. As much as he tried to hide it, I knew he was growing weaker by the second. How much strength did a ritual involving bloodmagic require? And if sparing my life meant ending the lives of three innocents—he couldn’t. He would never drink Gwen’s blood as she lay dying.
Devereaux appeared to be considering his offer. And then he shrugged. “Once, that offer might have tempted me. But I’m afraid the time for making bargains has passed, Darkseer. You will participate tonight, regardless.” He strode forward to grip Casimir’s face in his cold hands.
The declaration struck me like a death knell, and I fought back the bile rising in my throat. I could not allow this to happen. I couldn’t let Gwen, August, or Neha pay the price for my foolishness. I racked my brain for a solution. Only one alternative came to mind.
“How did you know where to find the Book?” Casimir asked.
Devereaux smiled indulgently, releasing Casimir from his death grip. “It should come as no surprise to you, Wrayburn, but I am not a trusting man. I suspected someone might come along in search of theBook of Erebosbefore long… But I admit, I was impressed you managed to get past my wards,” he said, running a hand through his hair and offering Casimir a hint of a smile. “I feared we wouldn’t be able to retrieve the sprite in time for the full moon. “However, as luck would have it, it was Arden’s lovely friend Miss Riordan here who obliged us with some truly invaluable information.” Devereaux’s smile was full of poison. “She’s been my little spy for weeks now.”
An inhuman cry of horror escaped my throat.Gwen?No. It wasimpossible, and yet the proof of his claim lay on the table before us. I was going to be sick. Gwen would never betray me like that, so Devereaux must have glamoured her into being their spy. Gwen had been there, in our room. She’d seen me stash the Book under my mattress. And all the while, I’d been a fool, playing right into Devereaux’s hands.
What little color remained now drained from Casimir’s face.
“How do you think I learned about your little trysts?” Devereaux asked. “Arden tells her best friend everything. Well, almost everything.” Devereaux beamed down at our horrified faces. “It’s how I learned Mr. Sinclair has been quite disloyal to us for some time now.”
Casimir tensed beside me, and I sensed, rather than read the question written in the lines of his expression. Had Gwen revealed my true name to Devereaux? If so, then we were fucked. Truly and royallyfucked. Learning my true name meant they’d unveil my little bit of skullduggery where my bargain with Evren was concerned. More catastrophically, it also meant Devereaux would make the connection between me and my father, and—considering how few mortals ever traveled through Ethervale as emissaries—he’d surmise that my father was the council’s Keeper and had named me as his Heir.
Casimir shut his eyes as though in pain, and I heard him swear under his breath. A dreadful feeling settled in my stomach. He needed that antidote.
A sudden desperation possessed me. “Allow me to take Gwen’s place in the ritual.” I begged. “Please. She doesn’t deserve this, she’s innocent?—”
“No, Farrow—I will not allow you to sacrifice yourself—” Casimir dragged my chin toward him, forcing me to meet his eye. “You cannot do this, Arden.” His jaw was clenched so tightly it was liable to break.
I shook off his protests, my eyes never leaving Devereaux’s, but Casimir forced his way into my head, his inner voice deafening and relentless.
“I will never forgive you if you do this!”
My thigh prickled painfully as I fought to shut him out.