As soon as they catch sight of the witches, they cease throwing themselves at the metal and stare warily at the figures outside their cage. They’re all a little worse for wear, covered in bruises from their efforts to break free. Nos’s hands are bleeding, and if I had to guess, I’d say he’s been clawing at the stone. Cas is the same, staring at the witches with haunted eyes.
Rysen and Val are both shirtless, my sigils on Val’s chest flickering silver in the lamplight and I wish I could drink them in.
Kier is…
Where is Kier?
Reva echoes my thoughts, and the ritual group starts staring. Cooper actually rushes forward with the key to the cell, but Sade manages to stop him before he can get close enough.
“He’s using a glamour,” Sade announces. “It’s a trick to get us to free them. Typical fae.”
At her words, Kier reappears, shrugging unrepentantly.
With all of them accounted for, Elsie steps forward, holding a bowl that’s been carved from a single piece of grey marble. It already contains several herbs, and I can pick out sprigs of rowan, thistles, and agrimony from where I’m standing.
“I need you all to add your blood to this,” she says, looking completely unruffled by the blood and their stoic expressions. “It doesn’t go against your orders, so you should be able to comply.”
She’s put her healer face on, I realise. That’s why she doesn’t seem fazed by the weirdly statuesque way the men are watching her.
Klaus moves closer to me, though he probably doesn’t realise he’s done it until I slip my hand into his, seeking his warmth to ground me.
“This is it?” Cas asks.
Before any of us can answer him, Nos nods. “This is it. We either die or…”
Val holds an arm out, reaching for Elsie’s bowl of herbs without any further instruction. “You better know what you’re doing, Solar.”
“We do,” Reva retorts, taking the bowl from Elsie and crossing the space between them.
Protecting the Solar, just in case my men try something else.
They don’t.
Val snatches the bowl and takes a knife from his boot, slashing his hand and making a fist until the blood flows freely.
“How much?” he asks.
“That should do,” Elsie replies, gravitating closer. “If you could add some hair too…”
The entire group of men freezes and turns to look at Val. The mage is famously precious about his hair, and he grinds his jaw in answer.
“Fine,” he mutters, passing the bowl to Rysen and taking the dagger to a piece of hair behind his ear.
The captain actually winces as he cuts the lock of white strands away and sprinkles them on top of the blood and herbs concoction.
“Me next,” Cas whispers, taking the blade and slicing his own palm.
Shifter healing means he has to cut himself a second time before he adds the same amount as Val did, but when it comes to his hair, he’s far less sentimental, taking a piece from the front with a shrug.
Nos doesn’t need to be told to take his turn, and Kier follows him. Rysen’s nostrils flare with each drop of blood that’s spilt, but his irises remain free of the crimson of bloodlust as he adds his hair and blood to the mix before passing it back to Elsie.
“You’ll want to sit down,” the Solar mumbles, turning away from them. “No use you getting head trauma on the way to the floor and making it harder for me to heal you.”
When they die.That’s what she means.
Klaus squeezes my palm comfortingly, and I crush his in return, relaxing my grip as I see him wince.
Oops. I guess the tension might be getting to me.