Page 28 of Darkbirch Academy

The threat hangs in the air between us. We both know I could try to escape—and we both know that his runes, the extent of whose powers are still unclear to me, remain carved on my skin. While he’s alive, I doubt I can risk returning to my coven without putting the lives of everyone I care about at risk.

I stare back at him in disgust.

“You need me,” I say, after a beat. “Otherwise, I’d already be dead.”

“Perceptive.” Dayn rises from his chair and walks to the window, his back to me again. “As explained, what I’m proposing will benefit us both. The binding ritual that connects me to Mazrov is the same one that gives Heathborne the ability to create Emissaries in the first place. Break that bond, and my bond to Heathborne, and you neutralize the clearbloods’ greatest weapon against your people.”

“And grant you freedom in the process,” I say, eyes narrowed.

Dayn turns back to face me, moonlight casting half his face in shadow. “Yes, freedom. The chance to pursue my own interests without being leashed to Heathborne’s agenda.”

“Which are?”

“None of your concern.” His tone carries a finality that makes it clear he won’t elaborate.

I rise from the chair, matching his stance. “You expect me to help you break free so you can become an even greater threat? I’m not a fool, Dayn.”

“No, you’re not,” he agrees, stepping closer. “You’re a survivor. And right now, survival means working with me.”

The air between us thickens with tension.

After a moment, he continues, “The steps required to break the binding are, admittedly, dangerous. And they require someone with darkblood abilities. Your connection to death essence is... unique. Essential.”

“You’re asking me to risk my life to free you?” I say flatly.

“The alternative is watching your people die,” he responds. “Mazrov was just the prototype. Heathborne has plans to create an entire division of Emissaries, each one designed specifically to hunt darkbloods.”

I set him with a hard glare. “I thought you said only three can be bound to you at once.”

“Currently,” he replies, “but they’re working on ways around that.”

I don’t know whether to believe him. Dragons aren’t known to be trustworthy creatures with their friends, let alone with their enemies. Still, a chill runs through me at the idea that he could be speaking the truth. “Do you have proof of this?”

“I’ve seen the blueprints. The resource allocations. The training grounds being prepared.” His golden eyes lock with mine. “They’ll be operational within six months.”

I pace away from him. If what he’s saying is true—and that’s a significantif—then that is obviously a threat we can’t afford to risk. We’d struggle to stand a chance against an army of fully-developed Mazrovs. Maybe even an on-the-loose dragon would be better than that. After all, my kind managedto drive them to near-extinction centuries ago. Here, we’d be dealing with only one.

“What exactly would this ritual entail?” I ask, turning back to him. I loathe to play his game, but unless and until I figure out how to kill him, I don’t see a better way to spend my time here.

“Three phases,” Dayn replies, something like satisfaction flickering across his features. “First, locating the physical manifestation of the binding—a relic hidden somewhere in Heathborne. Second, preparing the counter-ritual, which requires ingredients only accessible to someone with your... particular talents. And third—” he pauses, his eyes taking on that burning quality again, “—performing the unbinding itself.”

I frown. “Why haven’t you already done the first step? Why would you need my help for that?”

“First, because there’s a risk searching for it could attract… attention. Attention I wish to avoid until I’m ready to actually perform the ritual. Second, two heads are likely more useful than one for this.”

“And the risks in all of this?” I ask.

“Considerable.” He doesn’t bother to sugarcoat it. “The ritual could kill us both if performed incorrectly. Even if successful, there will be... consequences.”

“What kind of consequences?”

“The kind we’ll deal with when the time comes.”

I glare at him while weighing my options. They’re painfully limited.

If I refuse, I’m probably as good as dead, either now or later when Heathborne unleashes their Emissaries. Dayn’s assertion that Heathborne is planning to create an army ofthem rings true: how else will the Emissaries be truly effective against us? Clearbloods never stop at one when they can have more.

If I agree to help Dayn, I’m still gambling with my life, but potentially incurring less of a risk for the future of all darkbloods. I don’t appreciate his vagueness regarding possible consequences, but the situation looks pretty grim either way.

---