The Bloodweaver’s scream of agony tore through the room, and in the same moment, the glass blood-bowl slipped through Devereaux’s fingers and shattered onto the stone dais. A few seconds passed during which I was unable to do anything but stare at Evren’s injured eye in mesmerized horror. Then, with a kind of ruthless determination I didn’t know I was capable of, I tugged at the dagger lodged in Evren’s eye socket. He struggled against me, lashing and scratching at my forearm. There was a sickeningpopas I withdrew and reclaimed my knife.
Evren staggered back, shrieking in pain and clasping his handsover the raw, gaping hole where his eye had been. My stomach lurched at the sight of the mangled eyeball, skewered like a green olive on the tip of my blade. Devereaux suddenly lunged forward, his fingers inches from the silver necklace at my throat.
No!
I careened backward, but not quickly enough. A short struggle ensued during which Devereaux managed to seize a handful of chainmail at my waist, pulling me off balance. I collapsed back onto the dais, taking him with me.
One minute I was kicking and thrashing, and the next, Devereaux’s hand connected with my bare flesh, and I tasted the cold iron of his glamour on my lips. An angry voice inside my head commanded me to “hold still,” but in a panicked, last-ditch effort, I twisted my leg out of his grasp and shoved my heel into his throat. The commanding voice vanished as Devereaux choked in pain and released me. I scrambled backward, ignoring the pain in my elbows as they ground into shards of glass strewn across the dais, determined to put as much distance between myself and the Siphoner as possible as the strange sickness began to seize him, too.
Devereaux had nearly succeeded in forcing me to obey his command. One more moment would’ve secured his control. There was no time to process what had almost happened. I scrambled over to where August lay and?—
There was no pulse.
The lesser Order members who had been shouting instructions in all the tumult at last fell to their knees, spluttering and heaving. I watched in frozen disbelief as a dozen Daemons vomited onto the floor of the Grotto.What the hell was going on?I glanced around for Gwen and found her lying unconscious on the dais. I hoped she had fainted from shock, and not from any serious injury. I slapped her cheeks, trying to rouse her.
“Gwen!” I hissed. “Gwen, wake up, we need to?—”
A strong arm pulled me from where I knelt, and I whirled around to face my attacker.
It was Veronika. Before I could protest, she was dragging me off the dais, her voice low and urgent as she hissed in my ear, “Come with me, girl.”
Something warm and wet was dripping down my arms toward my fingertips.
Veronika swore under her breath. “You’re bleeding.” She grimaced. “Let me remove the glass from your arms or else you’ll have permanent nerve damage.”
Dully, I was aware of a stinging sensation along the backs of my arms and my shoulders where I had ground into the broken blood-bowl while I wrestled with Devereaux.
Now, the Siphoner was too ill to do anything but press his forehead into the floor between groans of pain. Only Evren’s remaining green eye never left my face as he attempted to crawl across the dais between bouts of sickness.
“Why are they sick?” I whispered as Veronika plucked glass from my arm.
“I slipped a little something in their drinks,” she said with a shrug, as if poisoning the entire Bloodthorn Order was nothing to balk at. Seeing my dumbfounded expression, she added, “You know, Devereaux likes to have a palate cleanser after a blood ritual.” She rolled her eyes at this predilection.
I remembered Casimir once saying that Veronika was an Alchemist, a Daemon who excelled at brewing magical draughts and potions.
“You planned this with Casimir.” It wasn’t a question. “You’re his spy.”
“Spy?” she arched a brow at the term, and then shrugged, accepting the title. “I’ve been Casimir’s friend for many years, but now’s not exactly the time to reminisce.” There was a glint of fondness in her piercing gaze.
I quelled my confusion long enough to ask, “But what about the ritual? Don’t you care about regaining your powers? Don’t you want revenge against Nymara?”
A low hiss slid through her teeth. “Of course I do, girl. I long to see that bitch Queen dead, along with those doddering old fools on the council. What they did to me and my kin will not rest unpunished, I assure you.” Her silver eyes were ablaze with barely-restrained fury. “They will answer for their crimes, but this is not the time to discuss it.”
“Fucking bitch!” Evren was spitting invectives at me from his sprawled position on the dais. There was a look of undiluted hatred in his eyes that promised vengeance. Blood oozed from his empty eye socket. “I’ll see you torn from limb to limb for this,” he vowed. “I’ll torture you until the muscle falls from your bones, and then I’ll flay your marrow and feed the leftovers to my hounds.”
I tore my gaze away from the gruesome sight.
Casimir.I needed to get to him?—
“Go,” Veronika murmured at my side. “I will take care of the rest.”
“What about Gwen? And August? Please, you have to save them, they’re innocent in all of this?—”
Veronika gave me an impatient nod. “Yes, yes. Go,” she urged.
With this reassurance, I ran, stumbling on blood-slicked heels. But as I reached the center of the Grotto, my gaze snagged on theBook of Erebos, lying innocently on the table. This might be my only chance. If I destroyed the Book, the Order could never repeat the ritual, ending all future hopes of restoring their powers. But destroying the Book would cost me precious time. Time I could not afford to waste.
Casimir first, then.