Something flickers in her eyes, then she takes the seat across from me. It’s not empty, so she has to toss aside a pile of books before she plops down onto it. I wince as one hits the floor pages first, parchment crumpling as the book splays.
“What are you doing down here?” I ask.
Blaise picks at her fingernails. “Looking for a good read. Obviously.”
“Are you all packed for the journey? We’re supposed to be leaving Ermengarde for Othian in the morning.”
Blaise’s smile is all teeth. I wonder if that’s a post-vampirism thing. “Of course, Mother.”
I bite my tongue to keep from reminding Blaise she’s the reason I’ve spent months away from my wife. I hated leaving Asha, but I’ve hated waiting to return to her even more. Especially without means to correspond with her.
“And Nox?” I ask, wondering still how trustworthy Blaise’s transport contacts actually are. “Are he and his sister taken care of?”
“Folded up and shoved into my pack.”
I don’t bother continuing to engage with Blaise, not if she’s going to be purposefully elusive. Instead, I open the book I was reading, rifling through the pages until I get to…
“Ooooh. The history of liquid moonlight,” says Blaise, now hovering over my shoulder. I jump, having forgotten how much faster she is than even the fae. “That one’s a real page-turner, especially when you get to the part about undead—” She stops, her mouth working a bit, then swallows. “What has you so interested in this of all subjects?”
“I’m curious about your condition,” I say, craning my neck so that it’s not quite so close to Blaise’s fangs.
She shoots me a knowing look. “I grew up with the fae, remember? I tend to notice when you make statements that are technically true, even if really, you’re just avoiding answering my question.”
“Well, it’s good to know you’re so clever. I’ll have to keep that in mind.” I return to my book.
“You know what I think?”
I let out a mournful sigh.
“I think you’re interested in whether my condition makes me immortal. More importantly, I think you’re wondering if my condition could make someone else immortal.”
I still, Blaise’s accusation lingering in the air.
“I wouldn’t wish your condition on anyone I loved,” I say, carefully.
“Well, you said it, so it must be true,” she says, circling back around my chair and perching directly in front of me on top of a pile of books instead. “Okay, so I revise my theory. I think you want to know if there’s a way liquid moonlight can give a person immortality, without tacking on the negative side effects.”
I peer at her over the rim of the book. “Considering your condition involves drinking the blood of a vampire and having your neck snapped, it seems as though liquid moonlight on its own might not be the only factor resulting in the thirst for blood or the sunlight curse. Though you’ve yet to tell us exactly how liquid moonlight was involved.”
“And if you did find there was a safe way to grant Asha immortality?” Blaise asks, ignoring my implication entirely.
“Is that supposed to be a question?”
“Would you make her do it?”
The question stuns me, but as I go to make my mouth form the word no, I find my tongue hesitates—the beginning of the fae curse that binds me to my vows tingling at the edge of my response.
Blaise cocks her head to the side, though I can’t tell what she’s thinking. I expect judgment, but when she speaks her gaze is far off, somewhere else entirely. “I’d do it, too. Because it’s not fair of them, is it? To ask us to let go of them, when it wouldn’t be them who’d have to suffer. When they’re the ones leaving us alone, to deal with their deaths all by ourselves.”
Again, I find choosing my words around Blaise similar to trying to pick which cup is hiding the coin after a performer has already jumbled up the order. “I didn’t say I would take that choice away from her.”
Blaise snaps her head back to me. “But you didn’t say you wouldn’t. In my experience, if you don’t make up your mind beforehand, you’ll always choose yourself when the pressure of the moment comes.”
“Is this why you came down here?” I ask. “To encourage me to be the villain?”
Blaise shrugs. “Are you really the villain if you’re just trying to save the people you love?”
CHAPTER 4
NOX
“Now, just remember that since I can’t lie, you’ll have to,” Farin says under his breath, fisting his hand and tapping it against the side of my shoulder lightly as we approach Zora.
“I don’t know that lying will be much use if she can’t understand us,” I say, though I whisper it back, which I recognize is a contradiction to my claim.
I shake my head, trying to clear the flustered haze that’s invaded my eyes ever since laying eyes on my sister.
She looks different here, in this world, though I can’t know if it’s a true difference or just because I haven’t seen her awake. Haven’t had the chance to witness her demeanor, the way her eyes narrow in suspicion. The way she holds herself, like she’s ready to sprint at any moment.
Either way, she spits a string of unintelligible words at us as she whips a blade from her belt.
It’s a dull blade. I can tell by the way the firelight seems absorbed by it instead of glinting off the edge. I wonder how long she’s gone without sharpening it. If it’s even hers.
Farin and I both hold up our palms for her to see, though given the way she hisses at us, it doesn’t seem to help a bit.
“Zora,” I say, though I’m not sure why. I guess I’m hoping hearing her name will trigger recognition in her, but it’s a groundless expectation. If she doesn’t even speak our language, it’s unlikely her name here is the same as back home.
Something flashes in her eyes at the sight of me. Fear, maybe? It’s strange, the way her gaze lingers on me. I can smell the trepidation pumping off of her, though she pays little attention to Farin, who I consider to be the more dangerous of the two of us.
