Devereaux was chanting, muttering prayers from theBook of Erebosas he invoked the magic he’d lusted after for decades. Dully, I wondered if adding the Heir’s blood, my blood, would make him even more powerful.
Abruptly, I felt Casimir’s presence like a soft intrusion against my mind. I let him in, despite the cloying taste of metal that arrived on the wings of his glamour.
“Wait for the right moment, Arden. You will know when it is time.”
With a staggering rush of adrenaline, I remembered the dagger still sheathed at my thigh.
“Every opponent has a weakness. You must root it out and exploit it.”
And there it was, their weakness. In keeping with their low estimation of mortals, the Order had been too arrogant to bother checking to see if I was armed before beginning the ritual.
For whoever’s blood still swirled onto the dais, dripping onto the floor, it was likely too late. But hopefully, I could still save Gwen, August, and Casimir.I could still save myself.
Devereaux believed us all to be too dazed or unconscious to fight back. Beside me, August’s muttering was cut off by a choked gurgling noise. I forced myself not to flinch. Oh gods.August. A scraping sound grated against my ear as someone collected the blood as it gushed from his neck.
I would be next.
A warm hand rolled me over, tilting my chin upward and exposing my throat. The hand felt too small to be a male Daemon’s. A rasping voice hissed in my ear, “You’re dead, Farrow.”
And then, the unmistakable chill of a blade against my throat. My eyes snapped open. The cloaked figure froze in surprise. It was a female Daemon, the little one with yellow teeth. I cut off her cry of alarm by plunging the tip of my father’s dagger into the hollow of her throat. Blood streamed from an artery in her neck, spraying into my mouth and eyes.
The room erupted into chaos.
The body of the female Daemon I had slain fell to the dais with a thud as several of the cloaked Daemons screamed in horror. My gaze collided with Casimir’s from across the room, where Evren held an obsidian blade to his throat. The Umbra Noctis. He must’ve found it in Casimir’s jacket. But Evren didn’t need adagger to kill Casimir. He was already so drained by the poison surging through his bloodstream, one hard shock from Evren’s glamour would probably finish him off. No, the blade was merely a display of power to ensure my cooperation.
The few drops of antidote Casimir had imbibed had long since worn off. He was conscious, but very weak. The whites of his eyes were a pale, sickly yellow as he stared back at me.
“Stop! Stop!” Devereaux screeched, furious at this interruption.
“Please forgive our gross oversight in neglecting to disarm you, girl,” Evren sneered, pressing the blade to the pulse point of Casimir’s neck. A few drops of blood beaded beneath the blade. “It seems we underestimated your very mortal desire to live. Now, drop the knife.”
I glared back at him from the dais, my own dagger gripped tightly in one trembling hand, painfully aware of August bleeding out beside me. I didn’t dare glance at Neha, who had been bled first. Gwen sat beside me, pale but unharmed.
In my periphery, I saw a shadow emerge onto the dais. A Daemon, intending to disarm me. But I was ready for them.
In one smooth motion, I kicked backward, catching my attacker’s ankle and forcing him off balance. The male Daemon cried out as his back hit the floor with a thud. Without hesitation, I seized his wrist, twisting his arm around his back until I heard his shoulder give a satisfyingcrack. He wailed in pain, but fury and fear had made me ruthless. Keeping his arm painfully tight behind his back, I brought my dagger to his throat, pressing hard enough to draw blood. The eyes of the cloaked Order members followed the red droplets as they trickled slowly from his throat; some widened in shock, others narrowed in vengeful fury.
“Move, and I’ll slit your throat,” I hissed in my captive’s ear.
Devereaux raised his hands submissively. “Arden, let us speak plainly.” Despite his calm demeanor, he was clearly furious, the polite mask he so assiduously donned slipping in the chaos.“You might get lucky enough to kill one or two of us, but you cannot win here tonight, not when there are so many against you. Drop your weapon.”
“Fuck you.” I held my dagger tight against the Daemon’s throat, eliciting a whimper.
“What do you plan to gain from this little show, tonight? Hmm?” Devereaux inquired.
“Kill Draylithen if you must.” He sighed, waving a dismissive hand. The male Daemon called Draylithen whined in protest, the sound vibrating against my blade. “It won’t save you or your Darkseer.”
He was right, I knew. Killing this Daemon wouldn’t change anything.
Evren’s lips curled, revealing a row of pearl-white teeth. “He’s right. The venom will soon take him. Your Daemon is doomed without the antidote, whether I open his throat or not.” He pressed the blade harder against Casimir’s skin, eliciting a soft hiss of pain as a rivulet of blood ran down his neck. “Oops,” he snickered, grinning maliciously. “I suppose now there’s more than one poison coursing through his blood.”
I bellowed in rage. “You fucking bastard?—!”
Evren had cut Casimir with the Umbra Noctis.Oh, gods. The poisoned blade.
“Drop the knife, girl. I won’t ask again,” Devereaux snapped.
Casimir was out of time. I had to make a choice. Either drop my dagger and trust that Evren would release Casimir, or fight through the Daemons until I was inevitably slaughtered, with Casimir soon after. It was no choice at all, really.Unless?—