“What’s so wrong with being a god?” I asked.
“It’s not becoming one that’s the problem; it’s who has to die for him to get there.” She paused, and then said, “But you know he is dangerous. Or at least you did—he’s why you created the book.”
“You’re lying,” I said, but the shock of her words straightened my spine and I hated how truthful they felt.
She smiled and shook her head. “I am many things, but I have never been a liar, Yesenia.”
“Time changes people, Ravena,” I said, and I reared back and shoved the blade toward her, but unlike last time, the mirror only shattered under my blow.
Her laugh echoed in my room, and she was gone.
Twenty-Two
Isolde
I left my room for Adrian’s.
I did not wish to remain there, not after Ravena’s visit. Her words weighed heavily on my mind, most of all, what she had to say about Adrian.
You do not know the man you married…he’s why you created the book.
I could not remember it, could not imagine it, and I did not believe her.
Clutching the spell book tighter, I entered Adrian’s chambers, finding him sitting on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands.
I halted, immediately concerned. “Are you all right?” I asked.
“Just a headache,” he said, but he did not look up.
I set my book on the table and crossed the room to the wash basin, where I soaked a cloth in cool water before bringing it to Adrian.
He looked up when I approached, squinting, and I pressed the cloth to his cheek and then his forehead.
“I am sorry you are unwell,” I said.
“It is no fault of yours,” he replied with a small smile. Then he tugged on my hand as he fell back against the bed, and I followed, landing atop him.
“Where have you been?” he asked.
“Looking for summoning spells.”
The air hung heavy between us, and I knew it was because I had things to tell him, but I did not want to add to his troubles.
I adjusted the cloth on his head. “I have never known you to have a headache.”
He touched the corner of my mouth, and I realized I was frowning. “It is nothing to worry about, my sweet. Did you find a spell?”
I rested my head upon his chest. “I found symbols,” I said, and then paused. “What do you remember of Ravena?”
I was not sure what information I was really looking for, but I was curious about his observations.
“Not much,” he said. “I only paid attention after your death. I watched her stand at Dragos’s side until I invaded Revekka, and after I murdered him, I pursued her, but it was like she vanished from the face of the earth. I hadn’t seen any sign of her until the crimson mist. Why do you ask?”
“I just wonder what motivates her,” I said.
“I imagine what motivates most of us in this world,” he said.
“And what is that?” I asked.
“Survival.”
“I think it has gone beyond that,” I said. “Has it not for you?”
“No,” he said. “Why do you think I like what I am?”
***
A scream drove me from sleep. I sat up, heart racing, and the only reason I did not think I was dreaming was because Adrian was awake too.
“Did you hear that?” I asked.
Another scream.
We shot from the bed, searching in the dark for our clothes. I had just managed to pull on my robe and get the door open when I came face-to-face with Sorin.
“The castle’s under attack,” he said. “There are vârcolaci roaming the halls.”
Vârcolaci were a type of werewolf. They were large and could rise onto their hind legs and fight using their clawed hands.
“How?”
“We do not know, but they did not come in by any usual means,” said Sorin.
Adrian drew his sword, and I turned to look at him. He was shirtless, wearing only the trousers he’d managed to find in the dark.
“Please stay,” he said, kissing my forehead. “Sorin, watch her.”
Then Adrian was gone.
I stepped into the hallway long enough to watch him, the muscles in his shoulders tense as more screams sounded throughout the castle.
I looked at Sorin. “I think I know how they got in.”
“How?”
“Ravena,” I said, unwilling to completely admit that I had summoned her, that whatever connection I had established earlier had not fully closed. “We have to go!”
I took off down the hallway for my chambers.
Sorin did not try to stop me; instead, he followed, racing beside me. When we came to my hall, I skidded to a halt, finding the door to my chambers in ruins. Part of it hung off the hinges, part of it looked as if it had flown off and hit the opposite wall, and there were splinters of wood everywhere.
“Isolde,” Sorin hissed as I crept closer.
I looked back at him and put my finger to my lips, glaring. My weapons were in the room, and I wanted them, but as I neared my door and peered through the wrecked doorframe, I saw that my room was still occupied by a vârcolac.
It must have sensed me because it turned its glowing, red eyes upon me and bellowed a scream-like roar.
I stumbled back, fumbling as I turned around.
“Run!” I yelled at Sorin as the creature exploded from my room. It used the wall as a springboard, flying through the air, landing in front of us, barring our escape.
Sorin lifted his blade.
“This would be a really great time for you to shift, Isolde,” he said, gritting his teeth.
“Maybe if I’d had a better teacher,” I returned.
The vârcolac roared again and rose on its hind legs, towering over us. He struck at Sorin, his razor-sharp claws tangling with his blade.
I raced back to my room to retrieve my sword, but just as my hand touched the hilt, another vârcolac rose from the shattered mirror on my floor.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
There was no hesitation. The vârcolac did not even attempt to assess me as prey; it just pounced, a horrible growling coming from deep in its throat. I gripped my sword but knew the creature was too close for me to succeed in any kind of attack. I managed to jump out of the way, but just as quickly, the vârcolac whirled and charged.
This time, I swung my sword, gripping it with both hands. The blade cut into the vârcolac’s paw but did not sever it. Blood poured onto my hilt and my hands, and while I tried to jerk my blade free, the vârcolac snapped at me. I fell to the ground to avoid its bite and crawled, but was flattened on the ground by a giant paw, its five sharp claws sinking into my back. I screamed and twisted, shoving my dagger into its arm.
It offered a loud shriek that rang in my ears, and I was able to stumble to my feet and run. I hit the doorframe, unsteady on my feet, and when I made it into the hallway, Sorin was facing two vârcolaci, the one behind me having also followed. I leaned against the wall, weak, and I thought of Sorin and our sessions. They moved through my mind quickly, and I latched on to a few words he had spoken.
This is magic, he’d said. You just have to reach for it.
I recalled how I had felt during the spell in the woods. How it had felt like my very womb had split open, and it had been full of light, full of magic, full of warmth, and it had given me hope—and then it felt as though it had been taken, snatched from me by hate.