The Letalisz ran his tongue across his back teeth. “You have a funny way with words, old man. I want proof that she is who you say.”
“There is only one way to prove–”
Zevander held up the small sampling of blood he’d collected from the mortal world.
“How did you come about this?”
“It was all over the archway in the woods. It led me to her.”
“Very well. Very well.” He slid his magnifying lens over his eye and examined the small stone. “Far too small for the septomir, of course. But it might be enough to reveal her aura.” He scrambled for his bag, rifling inside one-handedly before setting a crucible on his desk. “I’ll need some supplies for the long term. A viewing scope and some potions.”
“And where am I supposed to find these supplies?” Zevander asked, watching him place the small blood stone into the crucible.
“My old lab in The Citadel.”
“Does the magehood not monitor your old lab?”
“They’d have already raided it and stolen anything of worth. I suspect the only items left behind will be my viewing scopes and what they’d consider useless potions that they could procure themselves.” Nabbing one of the many colorful vials standing in a holder, he poured a purple fluid over the stone, and it sizzled on contact. Black smoke rose up from the crucible, and when the sizzling settled, only the silver from the blood stone remained. The smoke weaved itself together in the air, then fell into the crucible, somehow dragging the bits of metal around the surface, until it formed a shape that looked like a glyph. A sharp hook symbol, like a scythe, the blade of it serving as the bony upper ridge of what appeared to be a bird’s eye. “The death glyph. The Corvikae worshipped the death goddess.”
“That does not mean she possesses any great power.”
“Bring her here. We’ll see if she carries the sigil on her flesh. In the meantime, I promise you I am working on another means to temper your curse. Do me this favor, and I will put forth every effort to rid you of this insufferable sablefyre.”
“If you don’t, I will put forth every effort to see that you suffer for eternity.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
MAEVYTH
Ahard shove from behind sent me flying forward into a dark cell. Fire streaked across my knees and palms as the gravelly floor bit into my skin. I turned just as the iron door swung shut, and my captor peered in through a small hole carved into it.
Scrambling to my feet, I charged toward the door, slamming into the unyielding surface. “Let me out! Please! Let me out!”
“You aren’t going anywhere, sweet girl,” the dark-haired guard taunted.
“My sister … she’s …. I need to help her!”
“I’d say your sister’s better off than you, at this point.” He let out a cruel chuckle that goaded my anger.
Teeth grinding, I slammed my fist into the door, and a bright light flashed in my face on a blast of heat that shot me flying backward. Pain struck my spine as I crashed into the dirt floor, the air firing out of my lungs on impact. Every muscle trembled with whatever current ran through me. As it slowly subsided, I rolled to the side, groaning.
The guard chuckled again. “Smells like roasted oranges.”
“What do you say? High moon?” the blond guard asked beside him.
“Yeah. Evening guard will take over, and we’ll meet back here. Tell Ruvym and Stolyus.”
I focused on breathing, as they prattled on about something sinister-sounding they had in mind.
“Stolyus?” The other guard groaned. “Bastard’s about as fun as a dried up barnacle. I don’t trust him. I think he’d rat us out, first chance he got.”
“Give him a bit of baneberry, and he’ll dive headfirst off Dandymir tower, if we tell him to.”
Both guards chuckled.
“What I wouldn’t give to see that,” said the one whose voice I’d come to recognize as the blond. “The shady cunt has been acting weird lately. Always scratching at that arm.”
“Probably has muripox. Maybe we throw him in with her.”