Page 43 of Oracle of Ruin

“Now that we’ve almost died, can someone tell me where we are going?” I jog lightly to catch up to the other woman and fix her with a pointed glare.

She quirks an eyebrow skyward and I lift my wrist to show her the thin white scar that matches her own.

“And what would have happened if you had died? Would I have had to lug your body everywhere?”

Mavis rolls her eyes. “If you didn’t notice, you were able to run off with Neris just then because I wanted you to. If I felt like I was going to die, I would have broken the bond. But if I didn’t have time—don’t look at me like that. I can see it in your face. You would have had to carry a vial of my blood with you everywhere. It’s tied to blood not body, remember.”

I can’t say I’m fond of the idea of wearing a vial of Mavis’s blood everywhere for the rest of my life, nor the idea of being at her disposal for all eternity. “You’re removing this as soon as we get back.”

“Aw, bitch doesn’t like being on a leash?”

“You’re fucking vile,” I spit.

She responds with a wicked grin that tells me she knows and likes it.

Emi laughs, though, and despite the insult, some weight lifts from my lungs. All’s not lost yet for the kid.

“And to answer your first question, we are looking for someone,” Mavis grunts as she marches through a deeper pit of snow. “A man.”

“Is he a deserter or something? Is that why you need me?”

“Fucking hell, Vera, you ask a lot of questions.”

“And you answer less than half of them.”

Mavis lets out a frustrated growl that sparks a bit of pride in my chest. The ember flutters into flame as she runs her hand through her hair and finally answers. “He’s an informant for the king. A noble who might have found out how to defeat him, except he’s not capable of doing it alone, so instead, he’s being a coward and informing Ophelus in exchange for immunity. He’s on his way to meet Lucius now. We are intercepting him before all hope is lost. Clear enough for you?”

My brows furrow into a scowl. I can see how she and Amír got along so well in their time together. It must have been a constant pissing contest to see who could be the bigger bitch. I can’t tell if Kya was in heaven or constant hell with the two of them. Or maybe they were great friends, I don’t know.

But something she says bites at the corners of my consciousness, hard enough that I can’t let it go. He’s meeting Lucius. I haven’t seen my former fiancé since he attempted to sacrifice me and killed my best friend instead. Does he consider himself my fiancé still? Does attempted human sacrifice constitute as annulling an engagement? If he is unsure, I will have to make it certain for him that we are done. And maybe send him to Tanja so she can tell him as well.

“Not really,” I respond. “Why don’t we just recruit him? I assume you’re here to kill him.”

Mavis laughs, a dry and hollow sound that chills deeper than the snow and ice surrounding us. “I don’t spare traitors.”

I can feel the ghost of a hand sliding down my arm and the wind begins to resemble Argon’s screams. A sharp shiver licks up my spine and I rub my hands over my shoulders. “No, I suppose not.”

Emi steps away from Mavis now, daybreak having fully crested the sky. She runs ahead a bit and Neris trails her, threatening to dump snow down the back of her cloak. Color begins to return to her cheeks and she laughs, the nightmares of last night chased away with the sun.

“Hey, I think we’re almost here,” Neris calls out from ahead. Her toe nudges a still-smoldering lump of wood, the bulk of the thing charred and warm.

Mavis nods, tracking her gaze to a set of footprints leading away from us. Emi takes this as her cue to fall behind, lest she damage the trail. I fall into step beside her, Neris leading the way now.

A brisk breeze of pine and snow brushes the hair from the back of my neck. My joints ache from the constant pounding of trekking through the snow, but I remain silent. A part of me is more curious as to whether or not we will see Lucius, the curiosity drowning out any potential panic. The greater part of me wants to know who this informant is. What kind of rat is able to sell out humanity’s only hope for his own life? Why wouldn’t they bring it to us? Surely Mavis and the Nightwalkers aren’t known to certainly be alive, but the rebellion clearly is. We could have stood a chance, yet he chose just himself.

Roughly an hour later, Neris lets out a pitchy whistle, the frequency high enough that the icicles tremble in the pine boughs and it is nearly lost to the wind. Mavis crouches, so does Emi. I follow suit. Neris, however, pounces into the brush. A few yelps later, she rises, holding an older man by the scruff of his cloak. When she turns to show us his face, my heart drops.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I groan as I come face to face with none other than Duke Gadsden.

Chapter21

Verosa

Duke Gadsden is as slimy as he was when there was hot water and all the finest luxuries of life. In fact, seeing him now feels more fitting than seeing him squeezed into finery or in tunics with golden buttons popping off. His face when he sees me, however, is entirely different than how it was in the palace.

“Ver-verosa,” he stammers, his composure slipping. “I thought you were dead.”

There is no lust in his face or voice like there was when I was a child. Now there is only fear—a sickening and satisfying fear that reeks, especially when his eyes drop to the scars on my exposed skin and the weapon at my hip. The callouses on my hands tell him I know how to use it.

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