“You had better hope he is not more powerful than me,” he said, and he took deliberate steps toward me, caging me with his hands on the headboard. “Because there is no one else here to protect you.”
I tried to slap him, but he gripped my wrists, and I did not think I was imagining the white rim around his eyes flashing bright with malice.
“Not this time, my sweet,” he said, and his mouth slammed against mine. His kiss was bruising and rough, and I tore away from him.
“I think you should stop,” I said.
His hold on me lessened, but he did not release me and his eyes still had a faint glow. I had not been imagining it.
“You think?” he asked, voice low, body rigid.
“Let. Me. Go,” I said through my teeth, and he released me, taking several steps away.
I stood and pulled on my robe, needing distance. I barely glanced at Adrian as I headed to the door, but the silence between us was heavy, and in a word, I could only describe Adrian as devastated.
“Isolde,” he said.
I paused, my hand on the door, but did not look at him.
“I’m sorry,” he said, and I wondered what was going through his mind and what exactly he was apologizing for—his words or the way he had attempted to work out his anger through me.
I turned my head a little and spoke. I could not see him, but I felt his gaze burning into my back, just as fierce as my turbulent feelings.
“Perhaps you should reflect on why you are always apologizing to me,” I said. “And change.”
I left our room. Normally at this hour, I would return to my own quarters, but I was too wired, too shaken by what had taken place in Cel Ceredi and Adrian’s rage. I decided to return to the secret library Ana had brought me to earlier. On the heels of everything that had occurred since she had taken me there, it seemed even more urgent that we learn how to stop Ravena.
When I arrived, however, Ana was already there.
She sat, bent over the desk piled high with open books and a set of notes. The candles were lit and had waned to almost nothing.
As I came down the stairs, she looked up, dark circles pooling heavily beneath her eyes.
“Have you slept?” I asked.
“A little,” she said. “But I think I have found a spell for the mist.”
“Show me,” I said, approaching the table.
She turned the book toward me and tapped on a page that was beautifully illustrated. Whoever had taken the time to write these spells had also been an artist.
“This spell is for containment,” I said. “Should we not look to banish?”
“If we banish it, we risk sending the mist to another plane. If we contain it, at least we know where it is.”
“We need a vessel for containment,” I said.
“I think one of us should be the vessel,” Ana said.
I had never heard her be so sure about anything before.
“Ana—” I began, uncertain.
“You said you were preparing for war. Is the mist not a weapon?”
It was true that it was a weapon, but was it one we wanted to use? I had seen the horror it had created in my villages. Then again, the horror of war was no different, and I would bring it about to many people.
“Which of us will carry it?” I asked.
“You are queen,” she said without question. “You should carry it.”
I knew why she did not wish to contain such power. She did not want to be used as a weapon, but I did.
“It would be a waste,” I said. “I cannot call upon power.”
I had not even been able to shift since the night I was turned.
“You can,” Ana said. “You will. You channeled power into your body once. You can do it again.”
I sighed, but I could not deny the excitement that rose in my veins at her words.
“What do we need to cast the spell?”
“We need a water source to use as a conduit, and we must cast under the light of the first full moon,” she said. “We will also need a third witch.”
As Ana spoke, I began to recall some rituals for spells. A really gifted witch might be able to cast this containment spell, but we were learning, and it was best we followed the rules as closely as possible.
“A third witch,” I repeated, and my thoughts turned to Violeta, who was the descendant of Evanora, another witch of High Coven. Her greatest skill had been binding magic. I wondered if the gift had passed to my lady’s maid. If so and she was willing to help with this spell, then perhaps we would have a better chance at binding Ravena’s magic. “I have someone in mind.”
To my knowledge, Violeta did not practice magic, but I knew Evanora’s death haunted her, and it was that kind of trauma that silenced witches in this age. Perhaps she was too afraid to try.
“Whoever you choose, she must be ready by the full moon, which is in two days,” said Ana.
Two days.
That did not give us a lot of time to prepare or even teach but we had to try.
I thought of what had happened earlier, how that woman had screamed as she begged someone to save her dying husband, how she had tried to clean the blood from his face—as if somehow that might help bring him back to life. I hated that he had died, hated more that he had been brought back to life, and I dreaded that we still did not know the consequences of Solaris’s actions.
Containing the crimson mist was the first step to countering Ravena’s other spells, and I tried to imagine what it would be like if this was successful and we no longer had to worry about one element of her power. Though with The Book of Dis, I knew it was inevitable that something far worse would come.
Ana and I continued to plan, discussing where we would cast and why. I had first suggested the grotto, but it was not within view of the moon.
“There is a lake not far from Cel Ceredi,” she said. “It does not freeze in the winter because it is supplied by a spring. I think it might work, though it is close to a village.”
“Do you worry that we will be interrupted?” I asked.
“I worry that we will be hunted,” she said.
It was a valid concern given what had happened during court. We had not been able to quell the hysteria over witchcraft, and Solaris was only making it worse.
Would we face another burning? If so, would I survive it this time?
Seventeen
Isolde
I woke up in my room, though I’d had every intention of returning to Adrian’s chambers after I’d left the secret library last night, except that he was gone. I was so unnerved by his absence that I left to check my own room, thinking he had gone there, anticipating my behavior, but he had not been there either.
I worried because it was unlike him. He never ran from my anger, though perhaps he was running from his shame, which, I had to admit, was justified. I understood his frustration, even his anger, and normally, I did not mind the way he wished to work through it. I could handle him, I could fuck hard, but the look in his eyes and the way he had held me even after I had said no—that had scared me.
As a result, my sleep was restless. Frustrated, I rose early and dressed before Violeta and Vesna arrived. The two looked tired and were far more quiet than they had been yesterday, the fun they’d had during Winter’s Eve overshadowed by Efram’s resurrection. While I hated to see them so subdued, I was relieved that they seemed just as disturbed by Solaris as I did.